#scoups fluff

SWEAT TRICKLES DOWN THE BACK OF YOUR NECK AND THIGHS. Irritated, you wipe at the back of your neck for what feels like the hundredth time before pulling at the collar of your shirt, fanning it in hopes of cooling the rest of your body off. It’s unseasonably hot, a heat wave sweeping through the city and turning your office cubicle into a toaster oven.

The small fan on your desk whirs pitifully, barely offering any sort of respite. Adjusting in your seat does nothing but remind you how uncomfortable you are, the scratchy grain of the chair digging into the back of your sweating thighs, the underwire of your bra digging into your ribs, the heat rash forming where your underwear digs into the creases of your hips. 

Unbearable. 

A message pings on your computer and you open it, growling in irritation as you see a message from Wonwoo in the cubicle behind you. 

Jeon Wonwoo: Ever heard of suppressants, diva? 

You: IT’S FUCKING HOT IN HERE

You: Tell this company to BUY SOME FUCKING AIRCONDITIONERS 

Jeon Wonwoo: Irritable… sweaty… irrational… 

You grab the nearest pen and whip around in your chair, launching it at the back of his head. It hits with a satisfying thwack. He flinches, cursing as his hand flies up to rub the spot where you nailed him. Wonwoo turns in his seat, shooting you a dirty look over his shoulder.

You meet his glare with a stuck-out tongue and a very deliberate middle finger before turning back to your screen, face flushed, partially from the heat, partially from embarrassment.

He doesn’t get it. You know he’s just teasing, but it still stings. That old, familiar insecurity curls in your gut at his jest, no matter its innocence. Being an omega is hard enough. You’ve spent years unlearning shame, of trying to accept this part of yourself you never asked for. And you’ve gotten pretty far with that. 

But then something as simple as a heatwave hits, the rise in temperature turning your body traitorous, unable to accommodate for a little bit of humid air and heat. 

Of course, Wonwoo doesn’t understand - can’t conceptualize the level of difficulty it is to maintain a baseline for you. Betas don’t have to deal with this kind of hormonal chaos. Sure, they’ve got their own issues - media erasure, medical neglect, in general being left out - but it’s not the same. Not when your body actively works against you, not when your biology fights you. 

You sigh. There’s no point in going down the rabbit hole and comparing omegas and betas. You’ve traveled that road since your subgender presented itself in your freshman year of college. Comparison is the thief of joy, but it’s also an endless torture device. 

Your thighs rub together uncomfortably when you get up. You swipe your water bottle, unscrewing the cap as you duck out of your cubicle, head down and steps fast. You’re pretty sure Wonwoo is attuned to your scent more than others, having been one of your closest friends and cubicle-neighbor for the better part of five years. But still, you’re nervous about it, hand snaking up to touch the translucent patch on the side of your neck, meant to dampen the smell from your glands. 

No one pays you much mind. You breathe a sigh of relief to find the break room empty. You make a beeline to the water cooler in the corner, sliding the water bottle under it and pressing the tap. As it fills, the air conditioning kicks on, the vent right above you. 

Cool air hits the back of your neck. Your eyes flutter, a shiver of relief slithering through you. For a moment, you lose yourself, letting the cool wick away the sticky sweat, the first time you’ve felt a little relief all day. A small sound escapes your mouth, half whimper and half plea. 

Someone clears their throat and you flinch, losing your grip on the water bottle. It crashes to the ground, water splashing up your legs but more importantly, all over the floor. You squeak in panic, diving to pick it up in an attempt to stop the outflow of water. 

Hands dripping, you pivot on your heel, scanning for paper towels only to find them being offered. You blink in surprise, body going rigid as you become acutely aware of who is offering them. 

Choi Seungcheol watches you with quiet concern, dark eyes steady behind his glasses. He keeps a respectful distance, arms extended with a roll of paper towels, waiting for you to take them. But you don’t move. Your pulse pounds in your neck as your gaze drops from his face to his hands, large and patient.

He has pretty hands, you think absently, staring a beat too long.

For a moment, all you can hear is the roar of blood in your ears. Then, he steps forward without a word, crouching down to wipe the water pooling around  your feet. You jerk, startled, a sharp sound of protest escaping you as you drop down and snatch more paper towels from his hands. Apologies tumble out, disjointed and breathless, your thoughts scattered. 

He doesn’t back away. Instead, he methodically dabs at the wet tile while trying to avoid soaking himself in the process. His proximity is overwhelming, his spicy scent nearly knocking you over. You grit your teeth and clench your jaw, irritated. He’s not supposed to affect you like this - never has before. 

Seungcheol is always mild. Unassuming. He’s worked here as long as you have, one of the few alphas on your floor, and one of the most reserved. He keeps to his office, always dimly lit, always quiet. He greets you politely. Never lingers. 

It surprised you when you first met him. Seungcheol looks like the type of alpha who is the opposite of quiet and shy. There’s a gravitas to him that you haven’t quite figured out and a body made to ruin. Broad shoulders, thick arms, a voice deep enough to rattle through your spine even on your best days. 

Yet somehow, he’s never once made a pass on a single omega at work. 

Which, he shouldn’t. You respect that about him, which feels ridiculous. You shouldn’t have to be flattered by the bare minimum of respect, shouldn’t need to be surprised when an alpha is able to be normal. To treat you like a human being. 

You mumble a quiet thanks, focusing on the mess. It’s the only thing tethering you right now. It shouldn’t feel this intense, but the goddamn heat is getting to you. It’s baking you from the inside out, turning your cube walls suffocating. It makes you tired. Irritable. Prone to throwing pens at Wonwoo’s head. 

“Thanks,” you mutter when you stand. You toss the soggy paper towels into the bin, avoiding his gaze. “Sorry again.” 

“No need to apologize. I’m sorry I startled you.”

Seungcheol stands slowly. You don’t move, watching the way he wipes his damp hands across his slacks. You hate that you notice how the fabric pulls over his thighs. As soon as you have the thought, you avert your eyes, looking anywhere but him, afraid that he’ll see the embarrassment or the way your body reacts without your permission. 

“It’s been a long week,” Seungcheol offers, voice soft. “You alright? I know Jeonghan had you working on that insane report.”

You swallow past the dry patch in your throat. “All good. Just tired. It’ll probably keep me here forever, but what can you do?”

“Mhmm. Don’t forget it’s Friday - cleaning locks the office and will trap you inside.”

“Sounds like you’re intimately familiar.” 

His smile is soft, cheeks flushed. “Cannot confirm or deny.”

“I see.” You gesture to the watery floor. “Thank you, again. And sorry for being a bit clumsy.”

“No problem.” 

You slide away from him, hoping that he can’t tell that you’re leaning, trying to avoid catching his scent again. He doesn’t seem to notice - or has the decency not to make it obvious - and you slip away from the break room, all but running to your cube.

Inside your little haven, you rip open one of your drawers, grabbing a pheromone damp nasal spray. You all but shove it up your cranium, putting it as far up your nasal passage as you can manage before squeezing and shooting a blast of medical grade dampener up your nose, inhaling sharply. 

It helps a little, settling your nerves and erasing the lingering scent of Seungcheol. You breathe out a sigh, calm and collected. Carefully and quickly, you peel the suppressant patch off your neck and swap it for a new one. It tingles when you apply it, the microneedles that embed into the skin to deliver suppressant a cool sensation at first. 

When you settle, you feel much better. It isn’t until you turn to start knocking out the rest of your report that you realize you never refilled your water bottle after dropping it, making you lean back on your desk and groan. 

-

Working for Yoon Jeonghan comes with its challenges. He's incredibly sharp and a natural leader, but he tends to be a bit forgetful and brings a touch of chaos wherever he goes. Jeonghan is the reason you’d started working at this company, though, admiring that there was an omega in charge, defying the long-standing social norms that omegas could not lead. 

It’s a silly stereotype, but you’ve been fighting stereotypes your entire life, unlearning your own and reminding yourself that there are still inherent biases to unlearn. 

Like right now, when you're mentally cursing Jeonghan for tossing a last-minute report your way, even though he had multiple reminders in his inbox and just forgot he'd opened them. You only blame him a little. Work’s been nonstop, keeping him up at all hours, and if there’s one thing that truly makes Jeonghan unbearable, it’s sleep deprivation.

Jeonghan doesn’t have an assistant, but you’re the closest thing to it, one of the few people in the office he trusts to get things done. So when he’s on vacation and starts spamming your email that he dropped the ball, it’s on you to cover for him, like he’s done for you in the past. 

The consequence of competency, he’d told you over the phone, the sound of the ocean in the background. I’m sorry, I owe you, please don’t quit. 

You weren’t going to quit. Despite your irritation, you like working for Jeonghan, and despite the unbearable heat burning in your cubicle, you like being able to focus on pulling and building reports, inputting data into a spreadsheet and setting pivot tables and charts.

It makes you forget about the world for a little bit, including the oppressive office air and the way that the building’s air conditioner barely keeps up with the raging temperatures outside. Makes you forget about the incident in the breakroom, and about everything else, including the passage of time. 

Above you, the lights go out. You flinch, looking up in surprise. Rubbing your eyes, you blink until your computer screen comes back into focus, looking at the time. You groan. It’s past seven, far later than you meant to stay at work. But you’re done with the report, dragging the attachment to your email to fire it off to Jeonghan with a less than happy emoji pasted in the body of the email. 

Exhaustion weighs you down when you stand. Your joints pop and everything feels hot and itchy again, all of your irritations flooding back to pester you now that you’re not locked in on your work. You flip off the fan, lamp and computer at your desk. Immediately without air circulation, your cube is sweltering, the dress sticking to you, fabric itchy and clinging to your skin.

A sudden wave of dizziness makes the room tilt around you. You steady yourself with deep, measured breaths, trying to stay grounded. A spike in temperature is normal. You can deal with it. It’s manageable. Sure, the heat triggers a surge of estriolase, the hormone that kicks in during Stage 1 of an omega’s heat cycle. And sure, it leaves you flushed, restless, skin prickling with irritation, and-  

“You’re still here?”

You shriek, whirling around, heart hammering as your hand flies to your chest in terror. Seungcheol takes a cautious step back into the hallway, hands lifted in surrender, quiet concern etched into his features. For a moment, the air between you is thick with silence, broken only by your uneven breathing, still reeling from the rush of epinephrine and cortisol.

Being an omega means constantly walking a tightrope of hormones. One shift sets off another, like dominoes toppling. Fear bumps into instinct, instinct stirs something deeper, until your body is a storm of tangled biochemistry.

Now, your body is caught in a storm of fear, annoyance, embarrassment and interest, each one fighting for dominance. You swallow thickly and lean off your desk, ignoring the way your body flashes between hot and cold, fear and something else.

“Just finished Jeonghan’s report.”

“Ah.” 

Something passes his face. It’s unreadable, but he’s focused. Your skin prickles under the heavy weight of his stare, watching as his mouth tightens at the corner. 

“You heading out?” 

“Yeah.”

A beat passes. His gaze flickers briefly, so fast that you’re not sure you track the movement correctly, but you swear it drops to the patch on your neck, dampening your scent. His jaw flexes once before he offers you a tight smile, gesturing. 

“Mind if I walk you out? It’s late.”

Your heart hammers. “Sure.” 

You’ve walked out of work with Seungcheol before. He offers to walk anyone out when it’s after hours, even if he himself isn’t leaving yet. It has nothing to do with your subgender and everything to do with him being kind, a sort of stoic office guardian.

Grabbing the rest of your things, you follow Seungcheol in silence. The building is quiet, both of you the only people still around on a weekend. The lack of sound amplifies everything else: the sound of your own quickened breathing, the warmth pulsing under your skin, the spicy scent of Seungcheol as he steps onto the elevator, lingering at the threshold to hold the door open for you.

You murmur a thank you as you pass by him. You can’t help the shiver that snakes through you as you pass. You clench your fists, angry and willing yourself to calm down. This has never happened around Seungcheol, and you blame the fucking weather for the way your body overrides you now. 

The forty five seconds spent in the elevator are borderline hell. Neither of you says anything. You’ve pressed yourself in the corner, trying to remain nonchalant, like your entire world isn’t spinning, like there isn’t a dull ache in the pit of your stomach, like there isn’t saliva pooling at the back of your tongue. 

Seungcheol smells warm. Grounding. Something that lingers, sharp and clean with a bit of a bite. You breathe in, trying to figure it out. Perhaps bergamot and cardamom, spice touched by sweetness, a hint of earth. 

The elevator dings and Seungcheol is halfway through the lobby before you realize it. You push off the elevator wall after him, steps stilted and uneven. It’s even hotter in the tiny lobby of your office building, making a bead of sweat trail down the back of your neck. You adjust your dress, licking your lips in an attempt to relieve the hot flash threatening you. 

Seungcheol pushes on the glass doors at the front, but they don’t budge. Both of you stand and stare for a second before he curses low under his breath, voice like gravel. You ignore what your stomach does at the sound of it as he turns to look at you, expression wary.

“Remember what I said in the break room?” You definitely remember the break room, but not anything he said. “The cleaners come on Friday evenings and they lock the doors.” 

“Oh.”

Seunghecol walks back to the elevator and swipes his badge at the scanner and presses the button. The metal doors do not open again, and the button doesn’t light up. He curses again, pinching the bridge of his nose right beneath his glasses. 

“Badges don’t work after hours.”

“They don’t?”

“No. It’s not the first time I’ve been stuck here, unfortunately.” He adjusts the strap on his bag and pulls a cellphone from his pocket. “Thankfully I have security’s number saved for exactly that reason.”

Seungcheol’s words do little to bring you relief. He paces a few steps away from you, dialing a number on the phone. He holds the phone to his ear, waiting for security to pick up. His free hand is stuffed into the pocket of his slacks, thumb tapping idly. You stand a few feet away, arms crossed, trying to focus on the sterile, white glow of the lobby lights instead of the way your skin feels like it’s humming.

“Yeah, it’s me.” Seungcheol’s voice sounds loud, making you twitch. “Yes, I’m locked in the lobby again.” He glances at you. “I’m with another coworker as well. The badge isn’t working to get us back up. Can you come let us out?” 

You barely register his words. A flush is working its way up from your stomach to your chest, your chest to your shoulders, shoulder to elbows. You feel it unfurl, the slow-burning petals of a flower blooming. The air feels thick and heavy, almost damp, and no amount of focused breathing seems to help with the pulse you feel throbbing in your neck.

Seungcheol’s voice momentarily pulls you from your daze. “They’re sending someone from central security. Might take about an hour, though. They were in the middle of a shift rotation.” 

You nod, swallowing hard. “Alright.” 

“Are you alright?” Seungcheol asks quietly, eyes fixated on you. 

You open your mouth to say yes, but the word dies in your throat. Because you’re not. Not really. There’s a heat curling deep in your belly now, slow and insistent, and your clothes feel too tight, your skin too sensitive. You press your palm against the marble wall behind you, trying to ground yourself with the coolness of the stone.

“Yeah,” you manage, nodding and giving him a thumbs up. 

You’re anything but. It hits you slowly, but when it does, it locks into place with terrifying clarity: the dizziness, the temperature spikes, the way everything around you sounds sharper, smells sharper, the bergamot and cardamom. 

Your body is crawling toward Stage 1 of heat, triggered by the unbearable temperature spike across the city and the unbearable proximity of the alpha standing across the lobby from you. 

You shift your weight, arms tightening around yourself, every nerve ending suddenly too aware of Seungcheol’s presence. He’s not even close, but you can feel him. Or maybe it’s just your scent receptors going haywire, both just as likely. 

“You’re flushed,” he says after a moment, eyes not quite meeting yours now. “You sure you’re not getting sick?”

“No,” you say too quickly. “I don’t think it’s that.”

Seungcheol’s brows pull together, not believing you but not sure what to make of it. He shifts his weight, gaze scanning you, trying to figure you out. You refuse to meet his eyes, looking up at the lobby lights that are too bright, making you squint. But you can feel him watching you, his gaze intense. 

“You look uncomfortable.” He shifts a little further from you. “I apologize if-”

“It’s not you!” You blurt, a little forceful. “It’s just hot in here. It’s… hard on me.” 

When he doesn’t answer, you dare a look at him. Seungcheol tilts his head slightly, like he doesn’t believe you but won’t push it. He nods, leaning against a wall, crossing his arms over his chest. Your eyes track the way his biceps flex, the way his shirt compresses across his chest and your mouth goes dry. 

He studies you carefully now, eyes narrowing just slightly—not in suspicion, but understanding. Something settles in his expression, the faintest flicker of recognition behind his eyes. Fuck. Fuck. He knows. He knows and the embarrassment is so overwhelming you nearly fold over and start crying. 

Still, he doesn't call you out. Doesn’t voice what you’re sure he knows, what his instincts are telling him. Doesn’t corner you with it.

Instead, he says, “Tell me something you enjoy.”

“What?”

He watches you, eyes soft. “Anything. To pass time. I only know the basics about you. Tell me something you’re passionate about.”

Something you're passionate about? A million things run through your mind. You grab the first thing you can think of, a single subject that you’re well-versed in.

“There’s a theory that the Tyrannosaurus Rex didn’t roar.” 

He looks confused. “The dinosaur?” 

“Yes. Like you know in the movie how they… rahhh.” You imitate the noise, immediately wanting to smack yourself for the ridiculousness of it. He presses his lips together, trying not to laugh. He nods and gestures for you to continue, dark eyes focused only on you. “So it’s a total myth. Scientists think they made way lower sounds, like… you know when crocodiles do that weird purr?” 

“Crocodile purr?”

“Yeah you know when they…” You hunch your shoulders. “Do that weird water rumble thing.” 

“I think I follow.”

You nod rapidly, grateful for the distraction even as your heart beats way too fast. “Yeah, like a subsonic hum. They think it was more intimidating that way. A sound that could vibrate through the chest cavity of its prey. Honestly, it’s kind of genius.”

He watches you with quiet amusement, one brow raised but not mocking. “I didn’t know you were into dinosaurs.”

“I was obsessed as a kid,” you admit, shrugging, eyes still fixed on the security panel like it’ll spark to life if you ignore it long enough. “Used to correct people all the time. I was that kid. I got in trouble once for lecturing my cousin while playing with dinosaurs because Stegosaurus and a T. rex never existed at the same time. They lived millions of years apart! And he was trying to tell me they were best friends.” You scoff. “As if.”

You hear a soft chuckle across the lobby and you look up to meet his face. Your pulse flutters again, reminding you why Seungcheol asked you to distract yourself in the first place. 

As though he can sense where your thoughts are going, Seungcheol asks, “So are you one of those people who thinks the Jurassic Park raptors were too big?” 

You huff, a flare of irritation licking through you. “Well yeah. They were too big, thank you for asking. Plus, Alan Grant pointed out in the first movie that they were the size of turkeys, and then they get to Isla Nublar and they’re fucking six feet tall! And they were supposed to have feathers!”

“Not very intimidating.”

“I mean, I feel like a giant bird of prey is pretty intimidating.” 

Seungcheol grins and you feel another shiver threaten to pulse through you. His grin is beautiful, turning his face from intimidating to soft in seconds. “I’m never going to be able to take them seriously again, I think.”

“You’re welcome.”

It’s quiet again. The tension from earlier hasn’t disappeared, but something in the air feels different. Sweat fills the creases behind your knees, beads on the small of your back, gathers on your thighs. Your rambling had made you forget about it all for a moment, but now it’s back, the awareness of the way your body is crawling toward Stage 1 of your heat. 

If security gets here soon, you’ll be okay. It’s the lightest phase of the cycle, manageable with some effort and focus. But it’s unpredictable. Sometimes it lingers, sometimes it crashes into the next stage without warning. And while your body usually keeps a steady three-month rhythm, outside stimuli can trigger an early onset.

Like being trapped in an overheated lobby with an alpha just a few yards away. One who’s quiet, watching, aware. 

Still, it’s not unmanageable. You’ve handled worse. If you can get home in time, the meds waiting in your cabinet will ease you through the worst of it, keep you from slipping into second and third stage alone, unprepared.

If not…

No, you can’t think about that. If you stray too far to the second stage of your cycle before getting home, your options are limited and grim. 

You don’t like any of them. 

You shift your stance again, ankles crossing and uncrossing, arms hugging your waist like that might hold everything in place. But it’s not helping anymore. Your skin feels too tight, like it doesn’t fit right on your body. The heat is building now, no longer a low thrum, but a steady pulse radiating from your core, licking up your spine and sinking into your limbs. Your breaths come shorter, faster, and there’s a dull ache beginning in your lower belly, something deep and hormonal and utterly beyond your control.

“Hey,” Seungcheol says, causing you to look at him. His face is soft. Concerned. “You still with me?”

The way he says it, soft and gentle, makes things worse. Makes you want to whine and cross the lobby floor to him, to let him pull you in tight and tell you it’ll be okay. To comfort you. The desire is so bad that you realize you’re much farther into Stage 1 than you thought.

Panic starts to nip at your heels. You’re unsure what to do. There’s nothing on you besides your nasal spray and your patches to help you out, but those aren’t what you need. Your patches protect others from your scent and the nasal spray protects you from others - from Seungcheol. 

You try to answer, but your voice catches in your throat, coming out thin and shaky. “I’m okay.”

“Are you in prodrome?” he asks quietly, voice pitched low and careful.

You flinch when he finally says it out loud, letting the acknowledgement ring in the lobby. You close your eyes for a moment, your silence an answer in itself. 

Seungcheol sighs and pulls his phone back out of his pocket, dialing as he lifts it to his ear. “Yeah, I know. Look, you need to expedite. My colleague needs medical assistance and we’re still locked in the lobby. No… no.” Seungcheol glances at you. “She’s experiencing prodrome. Can you please expedite? Yes. Thank you.” 

He hangs up and turns back to you, stepping slowly so he doesn’t overwhelm, arms loose at his sides in a show of calm. “They’re sending someone now. Shouldn’t be long.”

You nod, but your breathing is uneven, shallow now. You can feel the sweat dripping down your spine, the pressure behind your eyes. Everything smells too sharp, too thick. Especially him. Spice and warmth and safety. It’s awful. 

Seungcheol stays where he is, a careful distance between you, but his voice is steady when he says, “Tell me what you need. What I can do to help.”

“I’m fine.”

“I mean it. If you need space, I’ll back off. If you need something cold, we’ll figure it out. Just don’t… don’t try to pretend this isn’t happening. Let me help you.” 

The kindness in his voice cracks something in your chest. No judgment, no pressure, just him, steady and solid, offering help while your body betrays you one symptom at a time. 

You swallow hard. “I just need to get out. I just need to make it home before it gets worse.”

Seungcheol nods, no hesitation. “Then we’ll get you home. I promise.”

Time moves like molasses. The silence between you thickens. You give up on standing, sitting on the cool tile floor. It only offers momentary respite until you’re panting again, struggling to maintain your grip on yourself. 

It’s not working. Your entire body is pulsing, tingling, burning in waves that crest and fall without rhythm. Your skin itches with hypersensitivity, every shift of your clothes unbearable, your breath slow and ragged. It feels like you’re melting, burning up from the forge in your chest.

You can feel Seungcheol watching you from his assigned corner. He says nothing, keeping a respectful distance. You steal a glance at him through bleary eyes. He’s just leaning against the wall, hands clenched and jaw tight. He’s doing his best to appear calm, but you see signs of irritation. His throat works and your eyes linger on the way his Adam's apple bobs for too long. You think about sinking your teeth into his neck, tasting him-

His scent, normally warm and grounded, spikes. You sense the shift and it makes you squirm, pressing yourself further into the wall. You look away from him, hiding your face in your shoulder while you squeeze your eyes shut as another wave of cramping crashes into you. 

Seungcheol’s irritation is sharp. Shame floods you, thick and fast. Of course he’s annoyed. Today has gone from bad to worse. He’s now stuck in a lobby with an omega in prodrome, a liability that he now has to be responsible for, and you’re barely holding it together, shaking like a live wire. You’re stuck, and he’s stuck with you, and-

The lobby doors beep and hiss open. You don’t even lift your head. Don’t even hear the first few words from the guards. You only feel cool night air and the sudden shift in pressure, making you keen and melt into the tile. 

Seungcheol appears at your side, his scent fading from acrid to soothing. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, crouching down to your level. It’s the closest he’s been to you all day. You feel the heat of him, the nearness overwhelming. “They’re here. We can go.”

You don’t move. The thought of moving suddenly seems like an insurmountable task. Your world is tilting, your ears ringing. Your limbs feel detached from your brain and your body is locked, curled in on itself. Heat prickles across your skin like static.

Worst of all, you’re starting to panic. Fear sets in, stabbing deep. You don’t know how to get up and take the train home. Don’t know how to get yourself up the stairs and into your apartment. To the cabinet to take a suppressant. To the fridge for water. 

Seungcheol’s voice sharpens. “Hey. Look at me.”

It’s a command. You blink up at him, barely able to focus. Something flashes behind his eyes and he’s on the phone again. “Hi, I need emergency assistance for an omega. She’s in heat prodrome and she’s deteriorating fast. No, she’s conscious. She’s overheating, but having trouble standing and struggling to focus. I have no idea what to do.” 

You barely hear the voice on the other end of the line, but Seungcheol does. His expression shifts, each word they say tightening his jaw.

“She’s a coworker - we were locked in a lobby at work but I can take her to an omega hospital.” You whimper and shake your head vehemently, whining. He softens. “They said they can give you a heat inhibitor on-site.” 

“No,” you pant. “It hurts.”

He nods. “I can’t do that, she doesn’t want to go.” The operator says something else and he nods. His eyes tighten at the corners and he glances at you. “I can take you to a service clinic. They can assign you-”

“Home,” you plead. “I just need to get home. I can- I can deal with it.”

“I don’t know… do you have, um. Do you have an alpha you usually…?”

“No.”

Tears well up fast and hot, blurring your vision, sliding down your cheeks in silent streaks. Your whole body feels wrong, like you’ve been unraveled from the inside, trembling and raw.

“I just want to go home,” you whisper, folding in on yourself. “I have my meds. I can manage if I can just get home. Please.”

He repeats what you say into the phone. They say something and he shakes his head and hangs up, shoving his phone into his pocket. “Okay. Alright. We’re going to get you home, okay?” 

He helps you to your feet slowly, carefully, arms braced around you like he’s afraid you’ll break. You lean into him, weak and unsteady, but there’s no judgment in his touch, just quiet strength and a protective kind of focus that makes your throat tighten all over again.

The lobby fades behind you. The night air hits your overheated skin like salvation. Seungcheol doesn’t say a word as he guides you into the passenger seat of his car, buckles you in, and throws his jacket over your lap for warmth. His hands are shaking as he starts the engine.

“Can you give me directions?”

You mumble them. You’re not even sure that he hears you. He has no idea the bomb he’s given you, tossing his jacket over you. Your fingers curl into it, greedy. Inhaling deeply, you feel yourself drift as he drives, the hum of the engine lulling you into a half-daze. The smell of Seungcheol is overwhelming, but comforting. Steady. No longer a threat, but something you want. Need. 

It isn’t until Seungcheol’s hands are gently shaking you that you realize you’re at your apartment. You blink up at him, stars in your eyes. He looks down at you, glasses a little askew as he asks you a question. His words are garbled and you don’t understand, shaking your head in confusion as he gazes at you. 

“Come on,” he sighs, unbuckling your seat for you. His chest brushes across you as he does, bergamot and cardamom hitting you so hard that it knocks the senses out of you. You’re near catatonic for a second until you feel his hands pressed against your forehead. “Fuck, you’re burning up. Can I carry you?”

You must nod, because he bends low and scoops you out of the car. You jostle against his chest as he carries you bridal style toward the stairs. His scent is mind numbing. Your face is too close to his neck and he doesn’t have a scent blocker on, pheromones doing insane damage to your self control as he climbs the stairs, you in his arms like you weigh absolutely nothing.

Gently, Seungcheol places you on your feet. He slides an arm around your waist, keeping you upright and pinned to him as he unlocks your door. You have no idea where he got your keys, must have fished them out of your purse at some point. 

Seungcheol guides you into your dark apartment, helping you to the couch like you’re made of glass. You collapse onto it, dazed. He crouches, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. His eyes are devastatingly soft, touch featherlight. 

“Let me call a doctor.”

“No.” Your voice is hoarse but immediate. “Please don’t. I can’t go to the hospital again. I don’t want to do this strapped to a bed, surrounded by strangers and white lights and IVs. I can’t.” 

He exhales, hands flexing. “Okay. Okay. But—then what? Do you have anyone who can help you through it? Any alpha you-”

“No. I just do it alone with meds. They’re in my bathroom cabinet. If you could just get them, I can do this.”

“I don’t think meds are going to help.” His admission is soft. Regretful, almost. Like it pains him to tell you this. 

You think he’s right, but you don’t know what else to do. 

Seungcheol’s brows furrow. You watch the internal war play out on his face, concern and hesitance and something harder to name. His throat bobs as he swallows. “If… look, if there’s no one else. I can try to help.”

You suck in a sharp breath. “What?”

“I can try. Only if you want. Only if you need. I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage, I just… I don’t want you to suffer. I know it’s not ideal, but I’m here. I don’t want to leave you like this.”

A fresh wave of tears hits you, shame curling hot in your chest. 

“You don’t want to,” you whisper, voice cracking. “You’re just saying that because you feel bad. And I feel awful. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I don’t want to put you in this position-”

“Hey.” His voice is firmer now, but not unkind. He shifts forward, his hands finding yours, wrapping them gently between his palms. Your skin tingles where he touches you, a fresh wave of heat licking through you. “Stop. Look at me.”

You do. Barely. His face is open and honest, his eyes warm. He’s so pretty like this, looking at you like you’re something he cares about - someone he cares about. 

“I want to help you. Not because I pity you. Not because I feel obligated. Because I care about you. And you’re in pain. And I can do something about it.” He takes a breath, then adds, softer, “Even if that means the more intimate parts.” 

Your face crumples, fresh humiliation rising, but he keeps holding your gaze, steady and calm. 

“Only if you want to,” he says. “Only if you’re lucid and safe and sure. If you want me to sit on the other side of the apartment all night and just be here, I will. If you want to go to sleep and pretend this didn’t happen tomorrow, I’ll follow your lead.”

“I don’t want you on the other side of the apartment,” you admit. “I just feel embarrassed by what I need.”

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, especially for something out of your control. Your body isn’t your enemy.”

You press your lips together, fighting the emotions building in your chest, but it’s no use. A soft sob slips out before you can stop it, and Seungcheol is there in an instant, wrapping his arms around you with careful strength, cradling you against him like he’s anchoring you to the moment.

His scent hits you more fully now, warm and earthy beneath the sharp spice, like cinnamon bark and sun-warmed cedar. It fills your lungs and settles into the frantic edge of your nerves like balm, and it’s… comforting. Not invasive. Not overwhelming.

Just Seungcheol. 

“I’m here,” he murmurs into your hair. “Whatever you need, we go slow. I’ll follow your pace. You lead.”

“Even if it’s more than you expected?”

“Even then.”

Seungcheol helps you sit back, propped with cushions on the couch, still watching you like you might unravel again, but not because he doubts you. Because he cares. Because he’s listening to every breath you take like it matters.

“I’ll need… a few things,” you say, quietly. “If this really goes into the full cycle. I have suppressants, but they won’t help much unless I can get them in the next hour, and I don’t think I have that kind of time anymore.”

“Okay. Tell me what you need.”

You breathe in. “Water. A lot of it. Heat spikes dehydrate fast, and I’ll probably get a fever if we don’t keep me hydrated. Heats are a game of chess except sometimes the board blows up.” 

“Funny. Got it.”

“And blankets,” you add quickly. “I’ll feel cold, even if I’m burning. Like weight and softness. Like nesting.”

“Like a bird… or dinosaur.”

You scowl at him and he grins, dimples appearing in his cheek. It makes you want to lean forward and bite him, to sink your teeth in and never let go. 

“What else?” He asks. 

“I’ll need food eventually. Simple things. Broths, carbs. My body’s going to want to burn through everything at once.”

“Easy.”

“And proximity.” You hesitate here, voice wavering. “I’ll need closeness. I haven’t had a heat partner before, but probably a lot of sex. It uh - comes in waves but it helps. Obviously. So there’s that.”

“I can do that.” There’s no hesitation. Just firm dedication. “It’s not a problem. What else?” 

You look at him, something stirring in your chest, still unsure how to express the storm of emotions bubbling beneath your skin. “What have you done for your omegas in the past? During heat? This is sort of new to me.”

He pauses. “I haven’t. I’ve never spent a heat with an omega.”

“What?”

“I’ve never been with an omega at all, to be honest with you.” The gravity of his statement makes you panic. You start to sit up, protests bubbling to your lips but he hushes you, eases you back down. “It’s fine. I’m fine, I wouldn’t have offered it if I wasn’t totally sure.” 

“Why offer at all?”

“Because it’s you,” he says simply. “And I’d rather learn how to help you than let you suffer alone.”

A beat passes. 

“Okay,” you whisper. 

“Okay,” he echos. “Let’s get you settled.”

Seungcheol stands, giving you one more lingering gaze before he sets himself to the task of readying your apartment. He sends you to your room to change into a pair of sweats and an oversized shirt before he lets you settle on the couch, sweaty and shaking.

Seungcheol moves through your space like he’s been here before, like he knows where everything is even when he clearly doesn’t. He opens cabinets and drawers gently, always looking back at you as though he’s seeking permission. You nod each time, endeared by his hesitancy. 

You don’t know what to make of his admission of never being with an omega before. In your experience, most alphas would loathe to admit that, finding something wrong with it. But Seungcheol doesn’t seem to mind, admitting it as a simple fact, neither good nor bad. 

You like that about him, his self-assuredness. 

When he finds your largest pot, Seungcheol fills it with water and sets it over the stove. He pulls out ingredients for simple foods: rice, pasta, anything with carbs like you’d said. He hums under his breath as he moves, a soft, low sound that vibrates in your bones.

It’s soothing. Almost domestic. But every second that stretches between you builds like static, his very presence buzzing along your awareness like an exposed wire. 

Seungcheol brings you a cool glass of water and kneels to hand it to you, his fingers brushing yours when you reach out to take it. You try not to flinch at the bolt of electricity that jumps up your arm. His eyes linger on your face, reading you. Not pitying. Not worried. Just seeing. 

“You’re doing okay?” He asks, but by his tone, he knows you are. You nod, but your throat is dry again, so you take a few gulps of water, nearly emptying the glass. He laughs and reaches for it when some spills over, running down your chin. “Careful.”

Something in his voice changes. The softness of it ripples down your spine and you look at him over the brim of your glass. His scent is warmer. Closer. Still under control, but pressing at the edges of your awareness like velvet, his alpha instincts responding to your body chemistry, the need of your hormones begging for him. 

Seungcheol rises, keeping a respectful distance, and yet his gaze burns where it rests on you. He takes the glass from you, fingers brushing yours again before heading to the kitchen to refill it. 

It makes you unravel, every part of you unspooling wildly as you watch him in your kitchen, the muscles under his shirt flexing. He rolls his sleeves as he turns the stove off before coming back your way, forearms bare, veins throbbing. 

Arousal unravels inside of you. You feel the tip from Stage 1 to Stage 2, your heartbeat kicking up a notch, your hands shaking more. When Seungcheol offers the glass, you don’t take it. You stare at your hands, willing yourself to stop, willing yourself to stop wanting him. The fear of making him uncomfortable is so sudden, a wave crashing into you.

Seungcheol notices. He drops to his knees immediately, putting the glass of water on the coffee table. This time, he doesn’t hesitate when he touches you, putting his palm to your forehead, his other resting on top of your wrist, his thumb tracing back and forth soothingly. 

“What’s wrong?” His voice is like velvet. “What happened?”

Your lips part, but no words come. You try again. Nothing. You don’t know how to shape the words, don’t know how to tell him that a second ago, you thought he was domestic and sweet, and now you’ve strayed into dangerous territory, thinking that you’d like nothing more for him to pin you down and fuck you until you can’t feel anything but him anymore.

You don’t need to tell him. Seungcheol inhales and you see the shift happen, a shiver rattling through him. He closes his eyes, inhaling again. A knowing, almost pained sound grumbles in the back of his throat and you squirm in response. He drops his hand from your head to your shoulder, fingers squeezing. 

“I’m sorry.”

His eyes snap open and he looks up at you, deadly serious. “Hey. No shame. Not with me. You told me to help, didn’t you? Let me do that.”

You nod, small and shaky. He lingers for a second longer, like he's giving you a chance to back out, then slowly rises, curling an arm around your back. You lean into him instinctively, your body already seeking contact, and he lifts you with ease.

Your bedroom isn’t far, but the walk feels endless, every footstep echoes with your racing pulse. You can feel his scent thickening around you, not overpowering, but present, comforting. It keeps you tethered, grounded. You cling to him in silence, your skin flushed hot, thighs pressing together in search of friction, your heart betraying you in its longing.

He places you gently on your bed, kneeling down beside you. For a long moment, he doesn’t touch you. He just watches, reading your every breath, every twitch of discomfort.

At first, you don’t do anything but stare at him. Seungcheol is so beautiful, with a plush mouth made for kissing, long eyelashes that frame gentle eyes, a dimple that appears each time he smiles. You’ve always noticed him, this quiet and soft alpha in your office. You’d never imagined you’d be here, looking up at him with want in your gut so strong that you can barely stand it.

Seungcheol senses it, because of course he does. He surges forward, catching your mouth in a gentle kiss. It’s slow and uncertain at first, hesitating to see if you pull away. You don’t pull away at all. Instead, you keen, a whine slipping between your mouths that makes him groan in response.

He deepens the kiss slowly, reverently. His lips are soft but sure, his hands careful as they frame your face. He tastes faintly of cherry chapstick, your omega running wild as you lean into him and lick into his mouth, eager to taste him. 

“Is this what you want?” He asks, panting as he breaks the kiss. He’s leaning onto your bed now, pressing his nose against yours. You feel him pant against you, barely contained. You nod, unable to speak. “Even if this goes further?”

“Please.” 

That one word seems to break him. He climbs up into your bed, hovering over you, pinning you to the mattress. You let out a sound of appreciation as he settles, his mouth meeting yours again. This time, there’s heat in it. One hand roams you carefully while the other is planted by your head, keeping him looming over you. Every touch eases the ache and stokes the fire in equal measure. 

You can’t get enough of him, running your hands over his stomach and around his waist, pulling at him, desperate. It feels like you’re burning up, both suffering and relieved at the same time as his tongue finds the warmth of your mouth, drinking you in. 

His scent is rich and spicy, unmistakably alpha. It makes your omega instincts claw at you, urging you to submit, to bare your neck. You tilt your head, exposing the sensitive skin, and Seungcheol growls low, his lips brushing the pulse point before he nips gently, not enough to mark but enough to make you shudder. Your slick pools between your thighs, the air thick with your arousal, and he groans again, nostrils flaring as he catches the scent.

“Fuck,” he growls, burying his face in your neck. It might be the first time you’ve heard him curse. “The sounds you make… fuck.”

Seungcheol’s tongue darts out, sweeping against your scent gland. His head snaps up and he frowns, realizing there’s a scent blocker on your neck. His lip curls like he’s offended, and he gently peels the pad off your neck, soothing the sting as the adhesive tears off with his warm, wet tongue. 

His tongue directly against your neck nearly makes you catatonic. Your eyes roll back, breath catching as he mouths at you before pressing warm, open-mouthed kisses up and down your neck. 

“You smell so fucking good,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. 

His hand slides down your body, fingers dipping beneath the waistband of your pants. You arch into his touch, a needy whimper escaping as his fingers find your slick-soaked panties. He teases you, fingers circling slowly, pressing the fabric of your underwear into your messy cunt.

“Please,” you pant. 

There’s that word again. It seems to make him malfunction, makes him bend to your will. He nods, peppering your collarbones with butterfly-light kisses as he pulls your underwear to the side. His fingers drag up and down your cunt and you squeeze your eyes shut. Your arms circle around his neck, clinging to him for dear life, hips canting as he leisurely circles your clit, applying subtle pressure. 

“Feel okay?” He asks, breathing the words into your ear. His teeth nip at your ear playfully and you gasp, making him chuckle deep in his throat. “Do you want-”

“Please.” 

He kisses your jaw. “Got it.” 

Seungcheol presses a finger into your heat, wet and slow, aided by the arousal dripping from your entrance.  The stretch is perfect, his fingers curling just right, and you gasp, hips bucking against his hand. 

You whine, clutching at his shoulders, nails digging into his shirt. He hums in response, pleased at your reaction. He slowly starts to pump his fingers, restricted by the waistband of your sweats. His thumb swirls against your clit and you hurtle toward an orgasm from the barest stimulation, already too worked up, too fucked out on him and his fingers and the hormones. 

Your body sings under his touch, heat coiling tighter, your omega keening for more, for him, for everything. His lips find yours again, mouths clashing as he slips another finger in, working you open until you’re shaking in his grasp and coming around his fingers. You hear the wet smack of his hand against your pussy, the way his fingers squelch. 

You don’t have the wherewithal to be embarrassed by it. Instead, you’re floating in a fucked out haze, the world dulling. There’s just Seungcheol’s lazy tongue in your mouth and the smell of bergamot and cardamom. The weight of him on you feels safe, setting you in a trance. 

Slowly, he pulls his fingers from you. You make a noise of protest but he hushes you with a gentle kiss. You feel a little more aware as the orgasm subsides, the ache you’d had a few moments ago dulled by the satisfaction. You know it’ll get worse and you’ll need more, but for now, you’re okay. 

You open your mouth to give a shy thank you when you’re stopped, entranced by the way Seungcheol brings his fingers, shining with your cum, up to his mouth. Your lips part in shock as he pops them past his lips, sucking generously. He hums, eyelids fluttering shut as he licks them clean. 

Never had you imagined that, imagined him like this. When he opens his eyes, his pupils are dilated. Starving. Feral. 

“Taste so fucking good,” He murmurs, leaning down to give you a lingering kiss. You taste yourself on him, different but not unpleasant. “Can’t wait to taste you properly later.” That makes you whine and you reach for him, but he smiles and kisses your nose before standing up. You pout and he laughs. “Water. You need water.” 

Seungcheol leaves your room but he leaves the door open just in case. You nuzzle into the bed, fisting the jacket he’d given you earlier as you nuzzle into it. You wish the bed smelled more like him. Right now it just smells like you, with bits of Seungcheol laced in. 

You close your eyes, letting your body melt into the sheets, muscles pleasantly sore and mind hazy with velocetin, a neurochemical that heightens arousal and reduces pain perception during Stage 2 of an omega’s heat cycle. The room is quiet, save for the distant hum of the AC and the faint creak of the floorboards as Seungcheol moves through the house.

When he comes back, Seungcheol is holding a bottle of water in one hand and something else in the other. A bowl of mac and cheese. He brandishes both proudly before sitting on the bed next to you. You prop yourself up on the pillows, looking at him through your lashes.

"Figured you might need both,” he says. 

You shake your head. “Just water.”

“You haven’t eaten dinner.”

“Don’t wanna.”

He levels a look at you. Switches tactics. “It would make me feel better if you did,” he urges gently. He puts the water on the nightstand, bowl of mac and cheese in his lap. He reaches out and brushes his fingers along your bottom lip. “Please.”

That word hangs in the air between you, both a pleasantry and a weapon. You feel the way he means it, the way it would make him feel better if you ate. You nod, sitting up with his careful assistance until you’re leaning against the headboard. 

Seungcheol stabs some of the pasta and lifts his hand before pausing, realizing he was about to feed you. You both flush, averting his eyes and handing you the bowl awkwardly, you trying not to put it down and jump him at the thought of him wanting to care for you this way.

Instead, you bite into the mac and cheese. It’s a little salty, but it’s good. You eat the entire bowl in comfortable silence, Seungcheol holding out the bottle of water for you in exchange for your empty dish. You trade and you chug some of the water, letting it keep you cool.

“I guess I didn’t realize how much of an appetite I had,” you note, sagging into the pillows. You feel good. Far better than you ever have when dealing with your cycle alone. 

He grins, cocky and unrepentant. “Guess I fixed that, huh?”

You roll your eyes, but you’re grinning too. “Shut up.”

“I could,” he says, climbing back into bed beside you, “but then I wouldn’t get to hear you whine like that.”

You flush at the memory, at the way your body still responds to his voice alone. He notices, of course he does, and his smile softens. One hand finds your waist, tugging you closer until you're nestled against him again.

“Take a nap,” he murmurs, leaning back into the headboard. “You need rest.” 

“What about you?”

He smiles softly. “I’m good right where I am.”

-

You wake to the sound of voices. For a moment, you're disoriented, wrapped in sheets that smell faintly like Seungcheol and sweat and a myriad of other scents familiar to you from years of heat cycles. It’s still dark in your room, only the glow of a neon sign outside slipping through your blinds a source of illumination. 

You roll over instinctively, reaching for Seungcheol and you freeze. The spot where he was when you had fallen asleep is now vacant. Cold, like he hadn’t been there in the last hour. 

Panic lances through your chest, so painful that it feels like a physical blow. You all but fall out of bed, heart hammering when you realize he left. He’s gone and you’re alone and you don’t know what to do, terror working its way up your throat. 

Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe everything he said was just talk. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to silence the rush of doubt, of fear- until you hear it again. Voices. Voices that had woken you up in the first place, momentarily forgotten by a hormone-addled brain and sleep. 

The door is shut to your room but you reach for it now, cracking it open. Dim light floods through the gap. All the lights in your apartment are off, but the single bulb over your stove is burning, a warm golden glow filtering down the hall. 

Sticking your head out, you see Seungcheol standing at your door. It’s mostly closed, just enough for him to block the gap with whoever he’s talking to. His broad back is facing you and you cock your head, puzzled. You can see the tension rippling through him, the way his hackles rise and the rigid way he stands, like he’s barring entry to something important. 

“Yeah, you’ve been really helpful,” Seungcheol growls. There’s a low, dangerous edge to his voice that you’ve never heard before. It sets the hairs on your arm standing. 

“Relax, man.” You don’t recognize the voice on the other side of the door. It’s playful, distinctly male. “I brought you your shit, didn’t I? You’re acting like I came to steal her.”

Seungcheol bristles. “Out, Soonyoung.” 

“Okay, okay,” Soonyoung - whoever that is - says. “Message received. You don’t have to piss on the doormat, Cheol.”

“I just might.”

You can’t help the small sound that escapes you, half laugh, half sigh of relief. 

Seungcheol’s head whips around at the sound, eyes immediately softening when they land on you. “Hey,” he says, voice gentler now, but still tight with emotion. “You should be resting.”

You pad down the hallway toward him. Each step closer makes the fire inside of you return. You feel the throb come back, needing more, subtle but growing. “I thought you left.”

His entire expression changes, and he’s at your side in an instant. “No. No, baby,” he says, cupping your face with both hands. “I just went to the door. I called Soonyoung for some clothes and stuff. I wasn’t leaving. I wouldn’t leave you like that.”

Baby. He says it so naturally, so unconsciously, that you’re not even sure he realizes it slipped out. But it hits you like a warm wave, softening every edge of panic still clinging to your chest. Your knees wobble slightly, and he notices. His hands slide from your face to your waist, grounding you there, steady and sure. He pulls you closer, and you melt into him, breathing him in.

Not gone. Not alone. He’s right here with you, like he said he would.

“Sorry. I just panicked.”

“No, it’s my fault. I should have known you’d wake up.”

A throat clears behind him. 

You both freeze, and then Seungcheol stiffens, the muscles under your hands tensing like a drawn bowstring. His eyes narrow behind his glasses as he turns his head, keeping you tight against him, chest to chest, like a shield. A low, warning growl rumbles from deep in his throat.

“Soonyoung was just leaving,” Seungcheol asserts. 

“Soonyoung is leaving, but also says he hopes your cycle goes well!”

Carefully, you peek around Seungcheol to see Soonyoung in the doorway. He’s standing in the doorway with a duffel slung over his shoulder, unbothered and grinning. His dark hair is long around his ears, and his eyes curve into soft crescents when he smiles. He waves at you, the gesture so sincere it makes you falter, like he’s genuinely happy to see you, even though you’ve clearly never met.

“Nice to meet you!” 

Another warning growl vibrates through Seungcheol’s chest. You feel it more than hear it.

Soonyoung just rolls his eyes. “Alright, alright, relax.” He lifts his hands in mock surrender as he backs away. “Let me know if he starts brooding in corners or being unbearable. Happens when he doesn’t get enough attention.”

“Bye, Soonyoung,” Seungcheol grits out. 

Soonyoung flashes one last wink and manages to pull the door shut just before Seungcheol fully turns to kill him. He exhales sharply and mutters something under his breath.

You look up at him, a teasing smile on your lips. “Territorial much?”

His ears flush instantly, color blooming down to his neck. He chews the inside of his cheek, gaze dropping.  “I apologize,” he murmurs, stepping away. “I know I’ve overstepped and-”

“Don’t,” you interrupt, reaching to pull him back, hands curling into his sides. “I liked it.” His brows lift, uncertain. You offer a soft smile. “I don’t think I’ve seen that side of you before. You’re usually so calm. Quiet. Kind of unassuming. Not very…”

“Not very alpha.”

“Not in the way people expect. But that’s not a bad thing.” He studies you for a moment, searching your expression, and something in his shoulders loosens. “I like the way you are. And the possessiveness…” 

You shiver and he grins, cockiness returning to you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Definitely.” 

His hands slide back to your waist, gripping just a little firmer this time. “You shouldn’t have told me that. Now I’m not going to be able to stop.”

“I don’t want you to. Please.” 

Seungcheol forgets all about his bag by the door. He scoops you up in his arms, taking you back to your room. You let out a soft sound, something almost like a purr, keening under him, excitement and arousal flooding you overtime. 

He notices, groaning when he catches the change in your body chemistry. He places you down on the bed gently, crawling over you, hand skimming up your t-shirt as he does. His fingers are warm and light, playful. You don’t want playful, though. You want greedy. Hungry. 

The buzz of anticipation curls low in your belly, heat blooming under your skin like wildfire. You arch into him instinctively, hips twitching. “Don’t play with me,” you breathe, reaching up to fist the fabric at his sides. “Please.”

Something flickers in his eyes. Recognition, you think. Like he sees the hunger gnawing inside of you and he recognizes it as his own. You want it, want that fire in him. You want to dive in head first and never come up for air. You want him so bad it hurts, a physical pain manifesting between your legs as your thoughts drift away and your instinct takes over.

“Please,” is all you can whisper. 

That’s all it takes. The control he’s been clinging to snaps like a thread pulled too tight. He crashes his mouth onto yours, swallowing your moan as his body presses down, heavy and solid, every inch of him demanding to be closer. His kiss is nothing like the ones before, this one is rough, consuming, all tongue and teeth and need. His hands slide up your sides, pushing the shirt higher, until the fabric is bunched at your ribs and he can finally touch bare skin.

His palms are searing, dragging up your waist to your ribs, brushing just beneath your breasts before he groans deep in his throat, your scent thick in the air now, laced with heat, need, you.

“You smell so fucking good,” he growls, mouth trailing hot, wet kisses down your throat. “It’s driving me insane.”

You thread your fingers into his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan again, his hips pressing into yours, and you gasp at the hardness you feel through his pants. He’s still in his work clothes, though they’re wrinkled and sweaty and a mess. You tug at them desperately, whining, trying to get them off. 

He growls again, low and possessive, and then he’s kissing you hard, his body rolling against yours in slow, grinding movements. His thigh slots between yours, pinning you in place, and the friction makes your back arch, chasing more.

“Tell me what you want,” he mutters against your mouth, one hand cupping your breast through the thin fabric of your bra, his thumb brushing over your nipple. “I’ll give you anything, baby. Anything.”

There’s that nickname again. Baby. It sounds sinful on his lips, like he’d do anything for you, like he would give anything for you. It makes you dizzy with gluttonous power and you pant, pulling him as close as you can get him, a button popping on his shirt. 

“I want you. Now.”

Seungcheol’s eyes darken, pupils blown, and he pulls back just enough to kneel above you. His gaze rakes over you, flushed, trembling. He makes a sound, something pitiful, hands trembling slightly as his fingers work the buttons of his shirt. 

He shrugs his shirt off, the fabric catching on broad shoulders before it falls, revealing hard planes of his chest, skin flushed with a thin sheen of sweat. His muscles flex when he moves, every line of him radiating strength. Your mouth waters, arousal pooling between your legs, screaming to touch him, to taste him. 

He doesn’t rush, though. His fingers linger on his belt, unbuckling it with deliberate slowness, the clink of metal loud in the charged silence. Your hips shift, impatient. He tuts at you, narrowing his eyes and you still immediately, falling into line, eager to please. His mouth twitches and he drops a hand to give your thigh a squeeze as if to say good job.

It makes you want to pass out. 

Seungcheol slides his belt free, letting it drop, and when he unbuttons his pants, the sound of his zipper is tortuous. You want him immediately, you want him now, but he seems dead set on doing this at exactly his pace. So you let him, letting the ache peak inside of you, shivering at what you know he’s going to give you. 

He carefully shoves his pants down, kicking them alongside his briefs in one fell swoop. His cock springs free, thick and heavy, the tip glistening with precum. Your core clenches at the sight, a fresh wave of slick dripping from you, and he groans, nostrils flaring as he catches the scent.

“God, you’re perfect,” he says, voice low. He peels your sweats down your legs, shaking his head as he goes, overwhelmed by the sheer need for him, to your body's reaction. “Fuck.”

He crawls back over you, hands skimming your sides, sliding up to peel your shirt off of you. The air is cold but Seungcheol’s touch is burning you up. He deftly removes your bra, tossing it somewhere behind him. He pauses, eyes locked on you, and the intensity of his gaze makes your breath catch. It’s like he can’t get enough of you, cannot fathom what’s in front of him.

Seungcheol shakes himself as if from a daze and then his mouth is on you, lips trailing fire down your throat, over your collarbone, until he reaches your breast. He takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking gently, tongue swirling, and you moan, back arching to press closer.

His worship is meticulous, unhurried. He lavishes attention on your other breast, teeth grazing just enough to make you gasp, while his hand slides down, fingers brushing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You’re trembling, omega instincts in overdrive, and when his fingers finally find your slick-soaked folds, you cry out, hips bucking into his touch. He groans against your skin, the sound vibrating through you, and pulls back to look at you, eyes blazing.

“Yeah?” He asks, voice scratchy. “So wet for me.” His fingers tease, spreading your slick, circling your clit with maddening slowness. “All for me?”

“Yes. Yours.”

Hearing you say it makes something snap in him. His pupils dilate, fucked out and filled with an intensity you didn’t know was possible. He dips lower, kissing a path down your stomach, nipping at the soft skin above your hips. He settles between your thighs, spreading them wide, and the sight of him there, all broad shoulders, dark eyes, and lips parted, makes your core throb. 

He doesn’t tease this time, reaching up with one hand to rip off his glasses and toss them to the corner of the mattress. He drops down and his mouth finds you, tongue dragging a slow, deliberate line through your folds, and you moan, loud and broken, as he tastes you. Relief floods through you. You feel yourself go boneless, the pain that was ebbing in you a moment ago dulling again as Seungheol leisurely tongues at you, groaning while he does. 

Seungcheol is relentless, worshipful, every lick and suck a testament to his need to please you. His lips close around your clit, sucking gently, then harder, and you writhe, fingers tangling in his hair, tugging hard. He moans into you, the vibration sending sparks up your spine, and doubles down, tongue flicking with precision, lapping up every drop of slick. His fingers join in, two slipping inside you, curling against that perfect spot, and the stretch, the pressure, is overwhelming.

You gasp, hips grinding against his face, chasing the building heat in your stomach. He hums, pleased, and the sound pushes you closer to the edge. He’s messy, slick coating his chin, his lips. He doesn’t care. He seems drunk on it, one hand pressing your thighs to further open you up, pressing his face further into your cunt to drink you in. 

His fingers thrust in time with his tongue, every curl and suck calculated to make you unravel. You shiver under him, your limbs unable to keep up, thighs twitching against his hand. It feels maddening, better than anything you’ve ever felt up until this point. 

Your orgasm hits like a tidal wave, dragging you under until you’re gasping for air. Your thighs clamp around his head and he lets you. He laps at your entrance as it drips, drawing out every shudder, every pulse, until you’re whimpering and overstimulated. 

Even overstimulated, you want more. Need more. 

Seungcheol pulls back, lips glistening, eyes wild. He pulls his fingers from you and crawls up to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. The kiss is filthy, desperate, and you moan into it, pulling him closer. 

“Need you,” you gasp, hands roaming his back, feeling the muscles flex under your fingertips, your nails cramping. “Need you inside of me. Please.”

He nods, unable to respond. He lowers his waist and drops a hand down to peel your thighs open. You feel how wet and messy you are but you don’t care. Seungcheol seems to appreciate it, swearing when he looks between your bodies to fist his heavy cock and line himself up with your entrance. 

The anticipation makes you tremble. He pushes in slowly, stretching you inch by inch, and you both groan, the sensation overwhelming. He’s big, filling you completely, and your walls flutter around him, slick easing the way.

“Fuck,” he grits out, dropping his forhead against yours. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck.”

Seungcheol fights to keep still, fights to let you adjust around him. You’re stretched tight, gripping him like a vice, your breathing hitched as you struggle yourself, near ready to come from just this alone. 

You manage to hang on, tangling your fingers in the damp hair at the base of his neck. You need more - always more. You start rocking your hips, urging him deeper. It feels so good you see spots in your vision. He moans and thrusts hard on instinct, bottoming out. 

The pace builds, his hips snapping, each thrust precise and deep, hitting that spot that makes you see stars. The pressure builds so fast you barely register it, chasing your high and whatever he’ll give you, your omega instincts screaming for it. 

He can tell. He quickens his pace, trying to get you there faster. It does the trick, because you come around him without warning. You pulse around him and he slows down, grinding his hips against you, letting you gush around him until your shaking subsides. 

Seungcheol is still rock hard, cock throbbing. Your forehead rests against his forearm, Seungcheol leaning over you, caging you in.

“Can you take more?” You nod but he shakes his head, nosing your temple. “You have to verbally tell me.”

“Can take more.”

“Promise?”

“Yes.”

He kisses your temple and picks his pace back up. 

It’s slower, but more defined. Deep. Seungcheol’s stroke is slow and deliberate, one of his hands slipping under your thigh to hike it up around his waist. That makes you whine, high-pitched and he loves it, mouth catching yours, drinking in all the sounds you make. 

You’re close again, the pleasure building faster now, amplified by the way he watches you, eyes never leaving your face, like he’s memorizing every gasp, every moan. His hand slips between you, fingers finding your clit, still swollen from his mouth, and he rubs tight, relentless circles.

“Want you to come again,” he murmurs, voice raw. There’s a bit of a command in his voice, laced with something you swear is devotion. “Wanna feel you, baby. Give it to me.” 

His words and the relentless drive of his cock are too much. You whimper, nails digging into his back and he leans down, lips brushing against your neck. Not biting - that’s far too advanced for whatever this is - and his fingers press harder, circling faster.

The coil in your belly snaps and your second orgasm crashes through you, sharper and more intense. Your body locks around him, walls pulsing as you come again. He groans, low and guttural, pleased by the way you clench around him. But he doesn’t stop, fucking you through it. 

You’re shaking and oversensitive, but he’s not done. His thrusts are slow and deliberate, keeping you tethered. 

“So good for me,” he praises, kissing your sweaty forehead. “So fucking perfect. You did so good.”

The praise makes your omega sing, and you cling to him, breathless, as he chases his own release. His hips stutter, breaths growing ragged, and with a final, deep thrust, he comes, spilling inside of you. He groans, dropping his forehead against you, shaking in your arms as he comes down from his high. 

Finally, he collapses over you, careful not to crush you. You stay like that, a pile of tangled limbs, panting. His lips find your neck, kissing softly, soothing spots he’d nipped. 

“You okay?” He croaks, voice hoarse with disuse.

You’re only slightly coherent, somewhere stuck between a dreamlike space where your omega is satiated and reality. “Yeah,” you whisper. “Good.”

“I’m gonna grab water, okay? I’ll only be gone for a second. Just gonna get water and then we can sleep for a little.” 

“Mhmm.”

Seungcheol is hesitant this time when he gets up, no doubt worried about what happened the last time you thought he left. This time, you’re too out of it to really register how long it takes him to get water. One moment he’s out the door and the next the bed is dipping under his weight as he cradles your head to feed you water.

It’s cool and you come back to life a little, opening your eyes as you gulp, greedy. He admonishes you to be careful not to choke, tilting the glass so that the water isn’t gushing into your mouth. When you drain the glass, he smiles and kisses you. 

“Good,” he hums, happy. That makes you beam at him, thrilled that he’s pleased. “More?”

You shake your head. “Tired.”

“Okay. Let me change the sheets - don’t move. I’ll work around you, okay?”

Somehow, he manages to. With a careful series of rolling you to the side and lifting you to slide new sheets under you, Seungcheol executes an impressive sheet change without really bothering you. He disappears once more to throw the spent sheets in the wash. 

Upon his return, you’re barely awake. You reach for him anyway, buried somewhere underneath piles of blankets that smell like him. Finally. 

Seungcheol lets you pull him into bed, sliding across the mattress until you’re flush chest to chest, the beating of his heart against yours. He smells good. Content. Happy. Your eyes blink heavily as you breathe him in, all pain forgotten.

“Sleep,” he mumbles, just as tired. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

-

When you wake up again, you’re not really sure what time it is. All you know is that there is orange light burning through your blinds, something like late afternoon. More important, there’s an ache between your legs and there’s sweat on the back of your neck, already restless from whatever dream had woken you up.

The room is quiet, save for the soft rhythm of your breathing and Seungcheol’s steady exhales beside you. His arm is draped loosely over your waist. His scent is warm and spicy, grounding you. But beneath that cool calm his presence brings is a restless heat simmering, starting in your core and spreading to your limbs.

You try to ignore it, shutting your eyes and willing yourself back to sleep. It doesn’t go away, an ache growing in its place. A whine slips through your lips, despite your best efforts. The sound is small, but piercing through the stillness and before you can tamp down on it, Seungcheol is stirring, arm tightening briefly before he’s hooking a chin over your shoulder. 

“What’s the matter, baby?” He asks, voice low and rough with sleep. “You okay?”

His fingers brush back and forth across your waist. It’s supposed to be soothing but it’s almost maddening. 

“Feel hot. Need you.”

Seungcheol presses a kiss to the back of your shoulder. You feel the curve of his smile. “I’ve got you.”

He moves slowly, peeling the sheets back. His hands are reverent, skimming your thighs and parting them as he settles between them. The air feels electric, every brush of his skin against yours sending sparks through you.

Like always, Seungcheol takes his time. His lips start at your knee, kissing softly, then trailing higher, nipping the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh. You whimper, hips twitching, needy and desperate, and he hums, pleased. 

“So needy,” he teases. You’re not embarrassed this time, knowing that with him, there’s nothing to be worried about. 

He spreads your legs wider, exposing your warm, wet core. He bites his lower lip, teeth digging into the flesh as he groans, like he’s trying to fight himself on diving in and taking what he wants versus giving you what you need. 

The first pass of Seungcheol’s tongue is slow and deliberate, a long, slow-soft drag through your folds that makes you gasp, hands fisting the sheets. He hums, the vibration making you twitch. His lips close gently around your clit, giving an experimental suck. You cry out and he grins, dragging his tongue to dip back down to your entrance for a taste.

Seungcheol is relentless, his mouth working you with a devotion that borders on obsession. His tongue traces every inch of you, slow and thorough, lapping up your slick like it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. He alternates between broad, languid strokes and precise flicks, learning your reactions, lingering where you tremble most. His hands grip your thighs, keeping you open, grounding you as you writhe, the slick coating his chin and lips only spurring him on.

“Fuck,” he mutters, pulling away for a second. He leans over your cunt and lets a string of spit and cum drip from his swollen mouth to your cunt before chasing it with his tongue. “I could stay here forever.”

He dives back in, tongue pressing into you, fucking you with slow, shallow thrusts of his mouth. Your moans are broken, and he takes it as encouragement, running his tongue in lazy circles, tasting all of you. Just as you start to near a soft high, his fingers join in, pressing in gently, making your vision blurry. 

The first orgasm builds fast, your body already primed from the restless heat of your sleep. His fingers pump in time with his tongue, relentless, and when he sucks hard on your clit, you shatter. A cry tears from your throat, hips bucking against his face as slick gushes, your walls clenching around his fingers. He doesn’t stop, lapping through your tremors, drawing out every pulse until you’re shaking, oversensitive, whimpering his name.

“One more, baby,” he murmurs, voice thick. “You can give me one more.”

You can. He knows it. You know it.

His mouth softens, less intense but no less thorough, kissing your folds gently before returning to your clit with slow, teasing licks. Your body protests, too sensitive, but the heat is already building again, coaxed by his worshipful attention. He’s patient, methodical, every movement calculated to keep you on the edge without overwhelming you. His fingers slide back in, slower this time, curling lazily, and you feel the stretch, the fullness.

Your second orgasm creeps up, slower but deeper, a steady wave that builds as he works you with unwavering focus. His tongue flicks faster, lips sealing around your clit, and when he hums, the vibration tips you over. You come with a sob, less sharp but more intense, your whole body trembling as pleasure rolls through you, slick coating his hand, his mouth. He laps at you softly, easing you through it, until you’re boneless, panting, your omega sated.

Seungcheol’s kisses turn languid, worshipping, cleaning up the mess he made, savouring every drop. Your hands loosen in the sheets and he finally pulls back, crawling back up to the bed, pressing scattered, wet kisses up your body as he does. 

“Better?” He asks when he reaches your face, nose brushing against yours. 

“Thank you.”

He smiles, dimples flashing, and settles beside you, pulling you into his chest. His scent surrounds you, grounding, and you feel the bond pulse, warm and steady.

“Rest a little. Then we’ll shower.”

-

The shower fills with steam and the scent of eucalyptus. Fog covers the shower door as hot water runs over you and Seungcheol. His broad frame stands behind you, hands gentle but firm as he massages shampoo into your hair, working slow circles into your scalp. You lean into his touch, eyes fluttering closed. 

If only for a moment, it’s perfect. Almost too perfect, which makes your chest tighten with a quiet ache. This is just Seungcheol helping you through your heat, a temporary balm for a fire that will ultimately flare again.

You don’t know how you ever did this without him before. Don’t know how you’re going to manage to do it without him in the future. After just a day, Seungcheol has flipped your scope of the world upside down, changing your heat cycle entirely. 

Typically, it’s days of foggy suffering with suppressants to numb you. It’s a listlessness that chases you for days until your hormones are right again, until you can feel the sun on your face and let it make you smile. 

Now, you don’t know what it’s supposed to be. 

You turn to face Seungcheol. Water is streaming down his chest, catching the sculpted lines of his front. Each droplet clings to him in a way you understand - you want to cling to him too.

Seungcheol is breathtaking, all strength and quiet care. It’s a wonder that someone so powerful can also be so gentle. He’s unlike anything you expected, and breaks the norms of what you thought having an alpha help you through your heat might be like.

You don’t fool yourself into thinking there’s anyone else like him. You already know that this is just him, just Seungcheol. It makes a flicker of fear come to life in your chest, wondering what will happen when your heat fades and the intimacy here dissolves like the water flowing down the drain. 

You push the thought down. Gliding your hands over his chest, your fingers chase the droplets of water, feeling the steady pulse of his heart beneath your palm. It makes you ache with need again, an always there need for him coming back to life.

Heat cycles are like that. They’re made up of peaks and lows, moments where the need is so high it drives you insane followed by a near catatonic need to drift and sleep. 

Now, you’re approaching another peak, pulse picking up, body thrumming.

Seungcheol senses the shift immediately. He’s attuned to you quickly, but you refuse to let yourself wonder what that means. He steps closer, hands pulling at your waist, dipping his head to brush his mouth against yours in an almost kiss. 

His eyes darken with a mix of concern and something darker. “What’s that look?”

He steps closer, pressing you against the tiled wall, water pooling where your bodies meet. The warmth of him, the slickness of his skin, feels like a dream you’re terrified to wake from. You don’t answer, can’t. Your hands dip lower, tracing the hard ridge of his abdomen, and he tenses, breath catching. 

“Baby,” he warns, voice rough. There’s no real protest there. Just a playful warning, edged with want. 

The endearment hits you like a spark, igniting you.  You can’t get enough of it when he calls you that, when he says it velvet-soft and purring, when he says it like you are his baby. His world. His omega.

You sink to your knees, tiles cold and wet beneath you. You look up at him through wet lashes, biting your lower lip, hesitant, wanting permission. His cock is already hard - has been the entire time you’ve been in the shower - and the sight pulls a whine from your throat. You want to taste him. Want to make him feel good. 

“Please,” you ask, still unmoving, hands resting on your thighs.

The way he looks at you - everent, undone - makes you feel like you’re everything, even if part of you whispers that this is just your heat talking, just his alpha responding to your need.

Seungcheol nods. He places one hand to brace against the wall as you lean in to press soft kisses to the base of his shaft, lips brushing his warm skin. He groans, the sound deep and raw, and it sends a tremble of excitement through you. 

Your tongue traces the underside of his cock, following a thick vein from base to tip. You swirl your tongue greedily around the crown of his cock, tasting the faint salt of him. It’s intoxicating, perfect, and you let yourself sink into it, humming pleasantly. 

One of his hands comes down to rest on top of your head, not pulling, not pushing, just anchoring himself as you take him into your mouth. You go slow, savoring the weight of him. He’s big, stretching your mouth painfully to the limit, but you relax, breathing in through your nose. 

“Shit,” he hisses. “Shit fuck. That mouth.”

The praise makes your omega preen. You hum again, the vibration making his hips twitch as you build a steady rhythm, head bobbing, tongue working the underside of his cock while your hand wraps around the base, stroking in sync. 

Water rains down on you, making everything fluid. Your lips glide effortlessly around him, your grip on him firm, squeezing gently as your hand meets your mouth on the upstroke. His groans grow louder, more desperate, hips twitching but never taking control of your pace. His fingers tighten on your head, and yet he remains in control of himself, letting you take what you want. 

“Fuuuck, just like that,” He pants, head tipping back. Water falls down his throat in rivulets. The sight of him, vulnerable and unraveling, makes your pussy throb, a wave of arousal running down your thighs and mixing with the water. 

You take him in deeper until your nose brushes his pelvis, swallowing around him. He makes a broken sound, half growl, half moan, and his hips finally jerk. You welcome his shallow thrusts eagerly, moaning around him, encouraging him.

Seungcheol looks down, eyes locking with yours. His are fucked out and fazed, the raw edge to his gaze making your heart beat faster. You pull back a little, focusing on the tip, sucking hard, tongue swirling. Your hand pumps faster and his breathing turns ragged, muscles in his stomach twitching. You know he’s close and it makes you grin up at him, mouth full of spit and precum.

“Gonna - fuck - come,” he warns, voice strained. 

You don’t pull away. You suck at him harder, desperate to give him this, to hold onto this perfect moment. With a guttural sound, he spills into your mouth. You swallow down every drop, lips sealed until he’s over sensitive and shying away from your mouth. 

Easing back, you look up at him, your knees aching. He pulls you to your feet and to his lips, pressing you into a kiss that’s deep and messy, tasting himself on your tongue. He licks into you, uncaring as he pulls you close to his chest. 

“So good,” he murmurs between kisses. “Such a sweet girl for me.” 

You grin as he turns you around, walking you forward so that you're pressed against the warm tile of the shower wall. “My turn.”

-

Soft, neon light filters in from your window, washing your room in a smear of watercolor. You fidget in bed, body coming alive, arousal starting in gentle waves, building the more your body catches up. Seungcheol is already awake beside you, sensing your need. His warmth is a quiet anchor.

Seungcheol’s lips brush your neck, nuzzling and scenting, his gentle possessiveness soothing your omega. You let out a soft sigh, going pliant for him. He hums, pleased at your easy submission, tongue darting out to lick your neck playfully. 

He’s tender, peppering your shoulder and neck with soft, wet kisses. Each one stokes the steady fire in your core and chest. The way he handles you is maddening, like you’re spun glass but he knows you can take whatever he gives you. Your omega preens and you shift closer, feeling the heat of him against you. 

This is different from earlier. At this point, you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve done this. You’ve lost track of time and the days. There’s just this: Seungcheol’s hand sliding down to lift your leg up for him, the thick head of his cock nudging your entrance, weeping and wanting for him. 

Then he slides in, slow and stretching you inch by inch, earning a dreamy exhale from your trembling lips. He grinds his hips against the curve of your ass, deep and languid, easing the ache between your legs. His strokes are measured and intimate, each one dragging against your walls, stoking the flames without rushing. 

You moan, breathy, as your slick coats his cock, the wet sounds of your bodies obscene in the silence of the room. His hand slides up, cupping your chest, thumb brushing back and forth over your nipple until it pebbles under his rapt attention. You arch into his touch, whimpering. 

“So good for me,” he murmurs against your neck. His voice is rough with sleep, just how you like it. 

Seungcheol keeps the pace slow, hips rolling lazily. It builds a steady burn. His lips find the pulse point below your ear, sucking gently, not enough to make tender, but enough to make you shiver, cunt leaking down your thighs.

You reach back, fingers sliding in his hair to tug softly. He groans, low and raspy, the sound sending a fresh wave of arousal through you. 

“Seungcheol,” you breathe, voice barely a whisper. “Cheol.” 

He hums, pleased at the nickname. He grinds deeper, the friction perfect and overwhelming as the tip of his cock brushes against the soft spot inside of you, making you unwind. 

Your eyes flutter open and you peer over your shoulder at him. The neon light catches the sweat on his skin, making him glow. You marvel at how beautiful he is, a powerful alpha, yours in this moment. Maybe not later, but you don’t think about that now, trembling as he brings you close to your orgasm like he’s done every time before.

His hand slips between your thighs, fingers seeking your clit, slick and swollen. He starts to circle the throbbing bud with agonizing slowness, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. The sensation is devastating, punching the breath from your lungs. You rock your hips to meet his, desperate for your undoing, needing to come. 

“Come on,” he urges, lips brushing your ear. He presses his fingers hard, circles them faster. Your breath catches and he feels it, deepening his thrusts, becoming more deliberate. “Come for me, baby.” 

The words mixed with the intoxicating feeling of his cock makes you shatter, a soft cry spilling out of your lips as your pussy pulse around him, soaking him thoroughly. He groans, fucking you through it, slow and steady, drawing out the full length of your orgasm until you’re boneless and barely there. 

But he’s not done. Seungcheol eases out carefully and shifts you onto your back. You blink, starry eyed and warm as you watch him slide down the bed and settle between your legs. Your thighs fall open at the sight of him and he groans, pleased at how you immediately know what he wants, ready to comply with your alpha.

No. Not your alpha. But he is right now and that’s all that matters.

Any fight on that subject vanishes as he kisses the soft skin of your inner thighs. His eyes are dark and burning when he looks up at you, pupils wide. 

“Need to taste you,” he murmurs, mostly to himself. 

Then, his mouth is one you, tongue dragging through your folds, lapping at the mess left over from your orgasm. It’s filthy, the way he moans into you, lips and chin glistening as he buries his face in your cunt. But it’s gentle, his tongue slow and worshipful, circling your clit.

It’s soothing, the way he moves, tongue tracing lazy patterns, circling your clit with no pressure, just presence. His hands rest on your hips, thumbs stroking the sensitive skin there, grounding you further. Your fingers find his hair, threading loosely, not pulling, just holding, and he groans softly, the sound muffled against you. The ache in your core softens, not gone but eased, replaced by a warm, liquid comfort that spreads through your limbs.

Seungcheol mouths at you with no purpose other than to soothe and because he can. He doesn’t seem focused on getting you off, isn’t trying to overstimulate you. It builds a soft glow anyway, your breathing hitching as he keeps going, tongue dipping lower to taste your entrance, letting you drift toward the edge without pushing you toward it. 

“Taste so good,” Seungcheol mumbles, mouth full of you. 

This time, your orgasm comes like a tide, not crashing but rising, warm and steady. You whimper, hips shifting and he holds you steady, one hand sliding up to lace his fingers with yours. You squeeze his hand tight, letting him keep you tethered as you come undone, throbbing softly. He drinks you in, tongue lapping and slow, easing you until you’re limp and sated, the ache finally gone. 

Seungcheol pulls back, mouth glistening neon in the low light. His eyes are heavy with something that you can’t read. When he crawls back up, you realize he’s come untouched, spilling his own release while getting you off. It makes your chest tighten, instincts purring at the proof of his want, his devotion to you. 

He slides in beside you, kissing your temple before pulling you close. 

“Better?” He rumbles, already half asleep.

“Better.”

-

“You have to eat.”

You huff. “Don’t want.” 

You’re curled up on the couch in one of his jackets, inhaling deeply. His scent makes you tired, limbs heavy. You tuck your knees to your chest, wrapping  your arms around them to make yourself small. The blanket over your shoulders is warm and smells like him, making you sink further into the cushions. 

Across the room, Seungcheol watches with thinly veiled amusement. He holds a steaming bowl in one hand, a spoon in the other. You love him like this, hair fluffy and still damp from a shower, glasses pushed high on the bridge of his nose as he glares at you.

“You need to eat,” he repeats gently. It has to be the third or fourth time he’s said it, each time just as gentle as the last. 

You grumble and turn away from him, hiding in your blankets. He sighs and pads over to you, dressed in nothing but sweatpants. Shirtless Seungcheol is a weapon in itself, but the way you smell him immediately, can tell he’s using pheromones against you, makes you growl at him. There’s no heat in it and he laughs. 

“Yeah?” He teases. “Gonna growl at me?”

“I’m tired.”

“I know,” he coos, voice dropping into that low, soft register that always seems to settle you. “Your body is working hard. But you still need to eat something, baby. For me.”

“Meh.”

“I’ll feed you.”

That sparks your interest. You peek out from your blankets with one eye, peering at him. He smiles, dimples appearing when he sees he’s got you listening now. His scent wraps around you, luring you deeper into his spell.

“What if I say no?”

“Then I’ll start pouting. I don’t care if I’m an alpha, I’m good at pouting.”

You can’t help the small laugh that escapes you. The image of him pouting is sweet. His smile grows, triumphant as he stands up to sit next to you on the couch. You sit up, squirming toward him. 

“There she is,” he hums, happy. “Open up that pretty mouth for me.”

-

Blue light flickers from the TV while golden light of the afternoon sun washes the room, peeking through the blinds. You’re curled into Seungcheol’s side, his arm around your shoulders and your legs tangled together beneath the shared blanket. Jurassic Park plays quietly in the background because you asked for something familiar, something comforting. 

Your heat is finally starting to fade, edging toward Stage 3. The decline leaves you exhausted, but the full haze of Stage 2 is lifting, leaving you with less thoughts of tangled bodies and tongues. You can feel it in the way your body no longer aches with desperation, clarity seeping in like a slow tide.

With the clarity comes unease. Because… Well, what now? 

Neither of you have brought it up, the what happens next. Everything still feels good, but it also feels fragile, like you’re balancing in the quiet moment between inhale and exhale, waiting for the next breath to shatter whatever this little bubble you’re in. 

Your fingers fidget lightly against his chest. He notices, as he always does, and his hand smooths down your arm in slow, comforting passes. You lean into him instinctively - you don’t know how you will ever unlearn this - basking in his warmth. 

But your thoughts keep spinning. 

You don’t know how to voice the big question, don’t know how to talk about it. Don’t know what the best approach is. So you pretend it isn’t there, staring at the TV screen with unseeing eyes, thoughts burning you from the inside out. 

Seungcheol senses it anyway. 

“What’s up?” He asks, lips pressed against the top of your head. His eyes are still on the screen, the movie reflected in the lense of his glasses.  

“Did you know the stegosaurus had brains the size of walnuts?” You ask suddenly, eyes fixed. “Built like a bus with a very small brain. It was like two ounces.”

“Really?”

You nod, grateful he doesn’t question why you’re talking about dinosaurs again. “Yep. For years people thought they had a second brain somewhere near the anus.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I’m serious. There’s an enlarged area near their hips and early scientists thought it must have been for a second brain because they couldn’t believe something with so much mass could operate with such a small brain. Turns out it wasn’t an ass-brain.”

He huffs. “Ass-brain would have been cool.”

“Right? I always hated that people thought they were docile too. They literally have massive spiked tails as a built in morning star and could beat predators' asses. People need to put respect on them.”

“Hmm. Sounds like we’re talking about more than dinosaurs here.” 

You go quiet. Your eyes flick toward the screen, but you’re not really seeing it. He’s not wrong. You chew your bottom lip, fingers playing with the edge of the blanket. 

Of course it isn’t just about dinosaurs. You’ve always admired creatures like that, misunderstood, underestimated. Not flashy, not predators, not something people are afraid of on instinct, but fierce all the same. Stubborn. Ready to dig their heels in and fight if they had to. 

Which is why you liked the stegosaur. You resonated with that. Maybe not the smartest or the strongest, but never easy to push over, always ready to bare teeth when push came to shove. It was why you liked working for Jeonghan, too, seeing a lot of that fight in him. 

Which brings you back to thinking about work, and that tomorrow is a new work day, and your heat will most likely be fully complete. And you’ll have to go back to… normal?

You don’t know.

“Why are you so nervous?” Seungcheol asks, bringing you out of your reverie. You look at him, eyes wide. He gives you a soft smile. “What, think I didn’t notice?” 

You hesitate. His face is open. Honest. He’s giving you no reason to hold back, no reason to hide from him. But what you have to say is scary. 

You take a deep breath and think about the stegosaurus. “Because my heat is fading. And I know things felt intense and - to me - special. I just… what happens after?”

“What do you mean?”

Tears prick your eyes and you curse your hormones for making you emotional. “When my heat is over, what then? We go back to normal? I’m… I don’t know. Having a heat partner is new to me, and I’m not begging you to stay or make you feel bad, I just-”

“Hey,” he interrupts, catching your face in his hands. His eyes are round, gentle. “I’m going to be honest, nothing is changing for me when your heat is over.” 

You blink in surprise. See nervousness flicker across his face when he says carefully, “I stayed because I wanted to help you. I - look, I was already a little soft for you. Now that I’m here, I like being with you, heat or no. Even when you’re talking about dinosaur ass-brains.” 

That makes you laugh and his smile lights up the room. “Really?”

“Really, baby.” 

His thumb brushes across your cheek, catching a single salty tear. “Unless you don’t want-”

“I want,” you insist. “I want so much. I have never wanted this much in my life.”

“Then I’ll stay. I’m yours.”

“Even if I start talking about ass-brains?”

“Even then.” 

The air in the room shifts, charged with something warm and unspoken. You move without thinking, surging forward and climbing into his lap where he sits on the couch. The soft fabric of his shirt brushes your thighs as you straddle him, your hands settling on his shoulders. He feels solid and warm beneath you.

Seungcheol’s hands find your hips, pulling you closer. Your forehead rests against his, breathes mingling, and for a second, you just stay there. Savoring the intimacy. Savoring his scent, bergamot and cardamom. 

“You’re sure?” You ask, voice small.

“Very sure.”

His hands slip upward, slow, under the hem of his hoodie. His fingers graze the sensitive skin of your waist, making you shiver as heat pools low between your legs. You lean in and kiss him softly, lips brushing, then pressing, slow and deliberate. 

You deepen the kiss, unhurried. His tongue traces the seam of your lips, tasting you, opening you up. You shift, grinding down on him gently, feeling the hardening length of him through his sweats. He makes a sound, soft and low, and it buzzes through your mouth. You feel yourself grow wet against your underwear and he sucks in a sharp breath, catching it. 

“Yeah?” He mumbles against your mouth, pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes are fathomless but warm. His hands push the hoodie up and over your head, baring your chest to him. His eyes flicker and he curses. “You’re so perfect.”

You flush, shy under his gaze. His lips find your collarbone, kissing softly before drifting lower, trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses down the curve of your breast. Your head falls back as the cool air hits you, your eyes closed. 

He takes a nipple into his wanting mouth, tongue swirling, sucking gently. You gasp, hips rocking instinctively, grinding harder against him. The friction is delicious. He groans against your skin, sending sparks through you. 

Seungcheol’s hands stay on your hips, encouraging your slow, rolling movements. He doesn’t rush you. Doesn’t push. It’s soft, the couch slightly creaking under the weight of you. 

His mouth moves to the swell of your other break, lavishing it with the same care. His teeth graze just enough to make you whimper, your fingers tangling in his hair, holding him close. You feel slick drip down your thighs, not as heavily as before, but still just as ready for him. 

“Cheol,” you breath, voice shaky. 

He hums, lips sealed around your nipple. The wet buzz of his mouth makes you grind on him faster, chasing the heat in your belly. 

Seungcheol pulls back just enough to look up at you, eyes glassy. “Love watching you like this. Love feeling you. Want you like this.”

He pulls back just enough to tug at his sweatpants, shoving them down his thighs, his cock springing free, thick and heavy, the tip already glistening. You bite your lip, the sight making your core clench, and he catches the look, a soft smirk tugging at his mouth.

Carefully, he helps you kick your sweatpants off. You sit back in his lap, not bothering with your underwear. He pushes them to the side with a careful finger, his knuckle deliberately dragging over the wet heat of your pussy. 

“Fuck. Wet.”

You nod as he grabs the base of his cock, helping you sit high on your knees. He rubs the rib through your messy folds, both of you moaning in unison before the head catches your entrance and sticks. You sink down, taking him slowly, the stretch punching the breath from your lungs. 

His shirt stays on, bunched where you fist it against his chest. It is work, sitting on him fully. You feel him deep in your stomach, your breath turning ragged. You savor the fullness, hands tangled in his shirt. 

Taking a deep breath, you start to move. His hands grip your hips, not controlling but encouraging, letting you set whatever pace you want. His cock drags against your walls, smooth and fluid. His lips find your chest, mouthing at a nipple, sucking gently. 

Your nails dig into him through the fabric of his shirt, the wet heet of his mouth, the press of his cock, all of it driving you mad, sticky with sweat as you continue to use him however you want. 

He lets you, content to suck and mouth at your chest all the while. The couch creaks faintly, a quiet underscore to the soft filth of it all, your slick coating him, dripping down to soak his sweatpants, the way his shirt clings to his sweat-damp chest.

Pleasure builds, slow and warm, a glow that starts in your core and spreads. You grind deeper, chasing it, and he groans, head tipping back, eyes half-lidded but never leaving you.

“How could I ever wanna leave this?” He asks. “How could I ever want anything but the perfect omega?”

The words, the way he says them, tip you over, and your orgasm comes soft but deep, a gentle pulse that has you trembling, walls clenching around him, a quiet moan spilling from your lips.

The way you tighten pushes him to the edge, and he groans, low and broken, thrusting up once, twice, before he comes, hot and thick inside you. His hands grip you tighter, pulling you close, and you collapse against him, panting, forehead pressed to his, the fabric of his shirt sticking to your skin.

“Mine,” he assures you, giving you a gentle kiss. “Ass-brain and all.”

“Please,” you laugh. 

That single word makes him melt, makes him all soft at the edges. “Anything for you, baby.” 

-

The office feels noticeably cooler when you return, the hum of the air conditioning a welcome sound after days away. Cold air brushes the back of your neck as you step off the elevator, a stark contrast to the lingering warmth on your skin, not from the building, but from Seungcheol following close behind you.

Seungcheol’s presence is unmistakable. And people notice.

Jeonghan is the first. He’s perched near Wonwoo’s cubicle, half-lounging on the edge when he glances up and spots you. His gaze flicks from you to Seungcheol, then back again. His eyes widen. A slow grin spreads across his face, and he immediately points a finger.

“You-”

“Not a word,” Seungcheol warns, voice low as he slides a steadying hand to the small of your back and gently guides you toward your desk. Your cheeks heat, teeth sinking into your cheek to suppress a laugh as Jeonghan starts bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“We’re just walking, Jeonghan,” you mumble, feeling anything but casual.

“You’re glowing!”

Wonwoo straightens in his chair, peering over his cubicle wall. His brow lifts as he spots Seungcheol casting a warning glance back at Jeonghan, lips curled into something between a snarl and a smirk.

“I knew it,” Jeonghan asserts, looking at you and nodding. “He’s always thought you were the cutest omega. Does he know you’re obsessed with dinosaurs yet?”

“Ugh, Jeonghan.”

“Yes,” Seungcheol confirms with a flat grin. “You remind me of a Stegosaur, Jeonghan. Very… you have similar brains.” 

You snort before slapping your hand over your mouth in horror.

Jeonghan saints at him. “I don’t get it.”

Seungcheol ignores him, turning to you instead. He brushes his fingers against your arm, and his gaze softens instantly, all gruffness melted into something warm and fond. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

✩ nsfw section ✩

❥ seungcheol nsfw fic recs

❥ the cake in the back - @toruro

❥escapades - @toruro

❥ sweet (like candy) - @toruro

❥ take care - @toruro

❥ Friends with benefits - @hoshifighting

❥ Nerd!Seungcheol - @hoshifighting

❥ Mutual Masturbation - @hoshifighting

❥ Dildo Riding - @hoshifighting

❥ dumbification - @hoshifighting

❥ college fling!seungcheol - @hoshifighting

❥ fingering you as you sit between his legs - @hoshifighting

❥ dilf!seungcheol - @hoshifighting

❥ choi seungcheol as your sugar daddy - @woozivrsefactry

❥ bff!seungcheol fucks you before a date - @nsfwhao

❥ sweetest thing - @rubyreduji 

❥ us and the stars - @rubyreduji

❥ brat tamer! cheol - @svtswhorehouse

❥ your wish is my command - @svtswhorehouse

❥ mingyu nsfw fic recs

❥ LO$ER=LO♡ER - @toruro

❥ easy to love - @husbandhoshi

❥ an ode to mingyu's tiddies - @monamipencil

❥ big boy! - @monamipencil

❥ foreplay - @catboyieejeno

❥ his best girl (nsfw) (gg series) @svtswhorehouse

❥ thinking about on vacation mingyu being your best and most memorable fuck - @cherry-hulu

❥ soft sex before bed - @nsfwhao

❥ [7:05] - @monamipencil

❥ mingyu + squirting - @monamipencil

❥ dilf neighbor! mingyu - @monamipencil

❥ to the brim - @toruro

❥ Ovestimulation - @hoshifighting

❥ giving oral after your final exams -

❥ I can do it for you - @hoshifighting-blog

❥ Rivals to Lovers - @hoshifighting

❥ watching you fingering + fingering - @hoshifighting

❥ praising kink (reader) - @hoshifighting

❥ making you squirt for the 1st time - @hoshifighting

❥ reader entering in subspace for the 1st time - @hoshifighting

❥ edging sub!mingyu - @hoshifighting

❥ on his back - @hoshifighting

❥ the secrets kept from roommates - @hoshifighting

❥ an ode to m(ingyu's)arms 🌟- @hoshifighting

The memory of the tryout was a blur. The burn in your arms from holding a position too long, the nervous shake in your voice as you shout out the cheer – you swore you’d be cut immediately.

So imagine the shock you felt when in your student inbox sat an acceptance email.

Dear Kim ___,

Congratulations!

We at Cheonghwa University’s cheer team, The Hwa-roes, are excited to inform you of your acceptance into the team.

Please reply to this email within 3 working days to let us know if you will be joining us on the quads to hype up the players and crowd!

Warm regards,

The Hwa-roes.

(Word play on Heroes)

You read the email at least three times – waiting for the words to morph into a rejection email, for someone to tell you it was sent by mistake.

Yet, here you were – pom-poms in hand and sneakers laced tight, standing with the other newcomers in the basketball stadium in a uniform that was low-key a little too short for your liking. As the seniors began the introduction, announcing a little freshies night would be done that weekend, you realised that… maybe this wasn’t a joke anymore.

You were in.

The late afternoon sun stretches across the quad, the grass looking more vibrant; even a little golden. The sound of a whistle being blown pierced through the field, followed by the heavy thud and grunts of The Hwa-rriors, Cheonghwa’s rugby team, as their bodies collide with one another during their on-going practice.

Enter Choi Seungcheol, Captain of The Hwa-rriors.

Seungcheol is the type of man where one look at him out on the field, you’d know he was meant to play. Knew that he was meant to be captain with how he barked orders whenever someone slacked.

He practically lived for the game. The sweat, the grind, the competition – nothing could ever divide his attention from the field.

Or at least, nothing used to.

His gaze had managed to stray from his team to the corner of the field where The Hwa-roes were practicing their cheer routine. Half the team were forming a base while some of the male cheerleaders were balancing the girls mid-air, laughter filling the air in a way that was infectious – causing a small smile to tug at his own lips.

Then, his eyes land on a particular cheerleader.

Unlike the stereotypical looks most female cheerleaders would have – long hair that’s pulled into a ponytail, probably one of the two main colours of the university as a bow stuck at the top; this cheerleader had a bob that almost went past her shoulders.

Seungcheol felt… something in his stomach, but it wasn’t from the mediocre cafeteria food for sure.

It was weird.

The Hwa-roes and Hwa-rriors had always co-existed during practices, yet since two weeks ago, he finds himself watching the bobbed-hair cheerleader.

“Captain, ball!”

He came back to his senses a little too late – the rugby ball smacked against his head, bouncing off onto the grass.

Groans echoed from his team.

“Seungcheol, I swear to God,” Jeonghan huffs, flicking sweat out of his hair. “If you’re going to keep staring at the cheer squad, at least don’t ogle to the point you’re physically here, but mentally there.”

“I wasn’t staring,” Seungcheol defended, muttering a curse as he picked up the ball.

Joshua snorts, leaning an elbow against Jeonghan. “Sure. Your eyes probably have a mind of their own and decided to wander off.”

His jaw tightened at the jest, but he knew they were right.

He barks at the team to get back to practice, trying to regain his focus in the process. Yet, when he hears the cheer captain announcing they take five, his head snapped back towards them just for a minute too long before he starts the countdown.

On your side of the field, you’ve learned to treat the rugby team’s shouts and grunts as background noise for your practice. In a way, it helped the cheer team in finding the tempo.

However, several cheerleaders, including the seniors would point out that their captain was staring – specifically at you. From what you’ve heard, Choi Seungcheol was practically Cheonghwa’s pride and glory.

He was tall, broad – even his presence was commanding, the kind that made people pause mid-step whenever he walked by. When your head of cheer announced a five minute break, you glanced over to the rugby team and watched as he barreled into a tackle. The sound of impact was enough to make even the cheer team wince.

Still, he didn't flinch.

You shake your head, reminding yourself of the reputations rugby players had – loud, cocky, out of your league. You may be a cheerleader, but you were a new cheerleader. You were one voice in a choir at the sidelines.

You weren’t someone special.

“Mingyu.”

“ ‘Sup, hyung?”

Seungcheol hesitated, mainly because Mingyu gave him a knowing grin. God, he was never going to hear the end of this. He inclines his head subtly towards the cheer team, “The girl at the top of the pyramid. Layered bob. You know who she is?”

The giant followed his line of sight, his grin widening almost instantly. “Ohh, I see.”

“See what?”

“Our captain’s taken a fancy to one of the cheerleaders,” Mingyu teased. “I thought Joshua was just imagining things, but apparently not. Guess I owe him ten bucks.”

“You lot are impossible,” the elder groans, running a hand down his sweaty face. “Just answer the question, Gyu. Unless you’d want to run five laps.”

Mingyu laughs, clearly having a blast poking at his captain. “She’s one of the newcomers they recruited. Kim _.” He observes Seungcheol’s face for any sort of reaction, his canines showing off when he sees the tips of his ears turn red. “I think she’s in her first year, final sem. Heard from one of the cheer guys that Haesoo told them she wanted her in after she left the audition. Kinda obvious why.”

Seungcheol nods, repeating the name in his head.

Kim ___.

Pretty name for a pretty girl.

“So,” Mingyu leaned in with a wicked grin, “Planning to shoot your shot?”

Seungcheol scoffed, “Get back to practice, Gyu.”

The campus library was almost empty that evening. The scratch of the metal nib against your tablet screen paired with the soft hum of the air conditioning was almost perfect until someone slots themselves into the empty seat across from you.

“Hey there, Miss Cheerleader.”

The voice was unfamiliar to you yet the owner greets you with such familiarity it felt… odd.

Looking up, you’re greeted by none other than Choi Seungcheol himself. Captain of The Hwa-rriors, heartthrob of the campus. He hangs his backpack over the chair he’s seated in with a big puppy grin on display.

He looked far too alive for the library. Out of place. Sweat clung to his temple, dark hair pushed back and messy like he’d run his hand through it dozens of times before this.

You blinked at him, “Shouldn’t you be out on the field, Captain?”

Seungcheol shrugs, “Practice ended. What about you? Was expecting you out on the field cheering and doing flips.”

“Thursdays, Fridays and weekends are our off-days.”

“Off-days, huh?” He leans closer, propping his arms on the table. “Didn’t think you guys would have that kind of schedule.”

You raised a brow, deciding to tease him a little. “We don’t run on triple A batteries, Captain. We like to preserve our energy unlike you jocks that can’t go a day without needing to run into a wall of muscles.”

Something about your tone made his heart flutter. He hadn’t expected you to tease back and the fact that you did intrigues him. “Didn’t mean to interrupt your little focus bubble,” he continues. “Just… didn’t expect to see you elsewhere other than… y’know, flying through the air.”

“Are you assuming cheerleaders are bimbos, Captain Choi?”

HIs eyes widened, scrambling to defend himself and forgets his surroundings momentarily. “No!”

The librarian shoots him a look and Seungcheol smiles sheepishly before bowing his head apologetically. Turning back to you, he lowers his voice. “No, I would never have that ideology. It’s just… I expected you to be more of a social butterfly like the others.”

“Well, cheerleaders can be academically driven too,” you said dryly.

He lets out a quiet laugh, “Noted. Guess I only ever see you on the sidelines cheering us on.”

“Well, that’s the whole point of the cheer team, Captain.”

“Yeah.”

You set your stylus down, deciding to give him your time. “So, what brings you here, Seungcheol?”

God, his name sounds so right when it comes from your lips.

“Trying to look academic to swoon some girls?”

“Maybe,” he teases. You watch as he then turns to the shelf behind him and grabs a random book, “Or maybe I came to get some study materials for my subject.” Glancing at the book he had just plucked off the shelf, he regrets it instantly.

‘The Trade Policy of the European Union’ by Gstöhl and De Bièvre.

You let out a small laugh and it made the tip of Seungcheol’s ears go beet red. “I understand you’re a Business Major, Captain. But try something less… heavy… next time. That one will put you to sleep before the first chapter.”

That pearly white grin returns, “Got it, Sunshine.”

You blinked, “What?”

He froze, realising what he’s just said. “Oh– Sorry. It’s just…” He awkwardly gestures towards the window. “The… The light is… It makes you look bright.”

Get a grip, Choi Seungcheol. You’re Captain of the football team. Why are you fumbling over your words?

God, you look like such a–

You can’t help the quiet laugh that slipped past your lips, caught between being thrown off guard and amusement. “Didn’t realise you were terrible at giving compliments, Captain.”

He gives you a sheepish smile, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah, well… Guess a pretty girl like you has me fumbling over my rehearsed lines.”

“Uhm… Thanks..?” You turn your focus back to your study material.

“Anytime, Sunshine.”

There’s a faint pink in your cheeks when you look up again. “You gonna start calling me that now, Seungcheol?”

He shrugs, grinning again. “Only if it annoys the hell outta you.”

“Careful now,” you warned, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “It just might.”

“Then I’m not stopping.”

“Hey, Yejin?” One of the seniors called out to the Head of Cheer.

“ ‘Sup?”

“Sky’s looking a little gloomy… Should we call in a rain check?”

The Head of Cheer waves her hand dismissively with a smile, “Oh, y’know the sky is always gloomy. We’re nearing the middle of fall season so the sun is just a little shy.”

“But what if it rains? We can’t risk the team falling sick or getting injuries. The big game is coming up and we can’t really form a new routine if we do have casualties.”

Yejin seems to consider the words before announcing to the cheer squad that they’ll do one final routine and call in a rain check. The others, you included, agreed but not before casting a glance up to the sky where the graying clouds start to gather. You hear Seungcheol’s voice behind you, barking out orders and telling his team to keep an eye out for the weather.

It was clear the gloomy weather had both teams on high alert.

But it was soon pushed to the side when the rugby team was halfway through scrimmage drills, and the cheer squad ran through several formations that needed more focus in perfecting. This routine had somehow become a source of to you – how everything falls into a steady rhythm.

5 minutes later, any trace of sunlight was gone.

Then came the first drops, turning the once green field into a polka dotted pattern. Both teams glanced at each other, as though they were telepathically asking – “Are you retreating? Because if you do, I do.”

They didn’t have much time to ponder as within the seconds, the slight drizzle turned heavy. Y’know, the kind of downpour that soaks you in less than a minute.

Chaos broke out when a gust of strong wind swept across the fields. Laughter, squeals and shouts rang through the field as everyone sprinted towards the auditorium to take cover. In contrast to the humid rain outside, the auditorium had its air conditioning running and the coldness sent shivers down your spine and damp uniform.

You wring out your skirt and tried your best to laugh with the others, but the cold was starting to get to you. Your hands were freezing, the fabric of your top was sticking to your skin and no matter how much you rubbed at your arms, the goosebumps wouldn’t go away.

You hear Seungcheol talking to the Head of Cheer, “Did everyone from the cheer team make it in?”

“Yea, I counted three times. Yours?”

“All counted for. Make sure neither of you cheerleaders get sick, yea? We’d be lost without y’all cheering us on.”

Yejin snorts, “Yea?” She nods towards his team that were raking their hands through their damp hair, teasing them about resembling golden retrievers trying to dry themselves off. “Better make sure neither of them get the flu either. Not only will Coach kill you, we won’t have a team to cheer for.”

Mingyu chuckled behind Seungcheol, “Well, I’m sure Cheol hyung can cover for all of us.”

“Careful, Gyu. I might just drag you with me.”

The trio laughed, knowing the threat wasn’t serious nor that deep.

His gaze soon landed on your shivering figure.

You stood a little further from the others, staying quiet while your teammates whined about their ruined hair and soggy sneakers. One of the newcomers complained about how the soaked fabric of the uniform was starting to stick uncomfortably against their skin. You smiled when one of them teased you for shivering like you were just dumped into the middle of a snow pile, but the smile was tired.

Mingyu noticed Seungcheol was staring somewhere and following his line of sight, he smirked. “Staring at the pretty cheerleader again, Captain?”

Yejin’s eyes followed and she too joined in on the teasing. “Fancy our little ___, Cheol?”

“Shut up,” he rolled his eyes, “Both of you.”

The Head of Cheer grins, leaning in, “Well, you didn’t hear this from me, but so far she’s still single. But, unfortunately jocks don’t seem to be her type.”

“Why not?”

Yejin shrugs, wringing the edges of her skirt. “Well, nobody really knows, but my two cents is that it has something to do with jocks being players with better stamina. You know how the rumours are with you guys – always flirting, never really committing. Probably forgetting a girl’s name once the next game rolls around.”

Mingyu frowns, placing a hand over his chest. “Ouch, that hurt.”

“Um, dramatic much?” Yejin snorts. “She probably doesn’t want to end up as another cautionary tale in the locker room or y’know… The entire campus of why you should steer away from jocks.”

“Hey, we can’t be that bad.”

She raises a brow, “For some of y’all? Maybe. But the reputation the media paints? Kind of hard to shake it off when a few of them fit the bill. Loud, cocky, always surrounded by cheerleaders or girls.”

She turns to one of the senior cheerleaders, “Kinda allergic to communication.”

Seungcheol moved to his duffel before his brain could catch up, grabbing his varsity jacket – the black one with his name stitched in gold thread. “You say that like we’re a species, Yejin.”

She all but grins, watching with Mingyu as he crosses the room, “Well, if the boot fits, Cheol.”

You sat on a bleacher that was close to the heater, rubbing your arms to try and chase the chill away. While you adored the sleeveless design of the cheer uniform, sometimes you wished the sleeves were a little longer to make it less chilly. Not that it’d help in your current situation.

The rest of your squad huddled nearby, helping each other to brush out their damp hair or to undo the ponytail it’s been put in.

A shadow looms over you and looking up, you see him.

“Sunshine.”

“Captain.”

He held out his varsity jacket, voice low and steady, “Here.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his gesture. “What?”

Seungcheol chuckles, “I’m offering you my jacket, sunshine. You’re freezing.”

“I’m okay, Seungcheol. I’ll live.”

He raised a brow, “_, even I can see that you’re clearly shaking from the cold.”

He’s not wrong. The heater wasn’t doing much to warm you up and you could practically feel the cold seep into your bones. Before you could reject him a second time, he had already draped his jacket over your shoulders. The warmth hit in an instant – the jacket soft, heavy and carried a faint scent that was him. Behind him, you hear several ‘ooohs’ and ‘awws’ from the others.

“Feel better?” He asks quietly, knuckles making contact with the side of your neck as he brushes your hair to the side.

You swallowed, “A lil..”

He smiles, taking a seat next to you but with enough distance so he doesn’t crowd into your personal space. “Won’t you need it?” You asked. The Captain simply shakes his head, “Nope. I’ll live without it.”

You snort, “Confident, aren’t you?”

“Well, that’s because I need you on the sidelines,” he teased. “If you catch a cold, whose chants am I supposed to listen to? I might start missing passes and pissing the whole team off.”

You rolled your eyes, though a soft smile tugged at your lips. “So now your entire performance depends solely on me?”

“Kinda, yea.”

You huff, tugging at the jacket to wrap it tighter around you. It was definitely one or two sizes larger, engulfing your body in warmth – though some of it wasn’t actually from the piece of clothing. Seungcheol tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, catching you off guard and he’d half expect you to pull away – but you didn’t.

He gives you a small smile, lips parting to say something until one of his teammates yelled from across the room. “Yo, Seungcheol! If you’re done flirting, Coach said to hit the showers so we don’t get sick!”

A chorus of laughter erupted in the auditorium – some of the boys whistled while the cheerleaders had teasing smiles on their lips. The noise mixed with the distant patter of the rain outside, making the whole situation feel a little lighter.

You caught the way a faint flush crept up Seungcheol’s neck before he sighs, turning to give you a sheepish smile. “Well, guess that’s my cue to leave.”

You nodded. “Don’t catch a cold, Captain. Otherwise you won’t hear my cheers.”

He grins at your tease, lingering by your side just a second longer before walking across the room to his teammates.

Your thumbs brush against the fabric of the jacket, trying your best to ignore the stupid flutter in your chest.

📣 Hwa-roes Squad 🤸🏼‍♀️

HoC Yejin: hey there Hwa-roes, Head of Cheer here with some news !! HoC Yejin: our Cheer Coach & the Hwa-rriors’ Coach organised a little squad bonding this weekend for us to well, bond with each other. deets are as follows: Date: XX October - XX October 20XX, Saturday - Sunday Time: 8AM Sat - 3PM Sun Venue: Busan Coastal Beach Planned activities include Balance Exercises Grill Night !! Bonding Bonfire Tug of War And more… 🫦 HoC Yejin: attendance is compulsory unless there’s a valid reason for absence. see yall this weekend !!

The morning air at Cheonghwa’s main parking lot was a little chilly, but definitely noisier than most weekends. The clattering of luggage wheels against the gravel pavement, thumping of duffel bags being loaded onto the bus’ luggage compartments. Some were already on the bus to try and catch a quick nap, others were discussing what food they bought for the Grill Night.

The cheer squad, all wearing their navy warm up jackets, were gathered near the front of the bus as Yejin conducts her usual headcount that reminds the rugby team of a military headcount. Just a few feet behind them were the rugby team loading the rest of the luggages onto the bus.

You arrived a minute later, tote bag hanging off a shoulder with a cup of iced coffee in one hand, a pretty pink luggage in the other. “Morning, Yejin,” you greet with a smile. She checks your name on the clipboard, “Morning, honey,” she greets back, peeking behind you and shoots you a teasing smile.

“Looks like fanboy there is already staring.”

Turning your head to follow her gaze, you make eye contact with Seungcheol. He gives you a small smile, and while you were unsure of how you felt – the corner of your lips lifted to return the smile.

“Cheer squad, anyone missing right now?” Yejin calls out.

“Minjoo went to grab snacks from the vending machine with Jeonghan!” Someone from the rugby team calls out. Coach Song, the rugby team’s coach, glances at his watch. “Better hope those snacks will last the two hour bus-ride.”

On the bus, you managed to find a seat near the middle and slid in, tucking your tote under your legs. Halfway through pulling out your earphones, a familiar voice came from the aisle.

“Hey sunshine, mind if I sit here?”

Seungcheol stands there, a paper bag in one hand while the other holds his water bottle. “Oh– Uh, no,” you said, realising you were staring.

“Thanks.” He slides in, shoulder brushing against your for just a brief second.

You took a sip of your coffee and watched as the campus rolled past when the bus departed. The early sunlight flickers through the windows and you finally take out your earphones, glancing at the paper bag in his lap. He notices and reaches in, pulling out a KitKat bar and offering it to you. “I got a bunch of snacks for the trip. Some healthy, some unhealthy.”

You took the chocolate, chuckling, “I’m not sure I should be having a KitKat for breakfast, Seungcheol.”

He grins, fishing out a sandwich box with the words ‘Egg Mayo’ written on its packaging. “Well, lucky for you, I also got some sandwiches.”

Two thoughts popped in your mind.

First – Wow, this man is well prepared.

Second – Why is that lowkey hot?

Successfully getting your earphones out and plugging them into your phone, the captain leans closer. “What’re you planning to listen to, Sunshine?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” you mutter, “Any suggestions, Captain?"

“Hmm, why don't you give Love Again by Dutch Melrose a try?”

You offered him the left piece of the earbud, “Wanna join?”

He blinked, surprised at your offer. But who was he to pass up on, what he deems, the opportunity of a lifetime. “Don’t mind if I do.”

Mingyu, sitting two rows behind, catches the little interaction and elbows Wonwoo who’s sat next to him. “Would you look at that,” he teases. “Captain’s whipped as hell.”

It was roughly 10AM when the squads arrived at the beachside – the air filled with the scent of seawater and coconut (add a bit of sunscreen into the mix). Several of the boys from the rugby team were helping the cheer girls move their stuff into the beach cabins, some snack stealing going on because Dokyeom claimed while they didn't need to do drills,they certainly were too early for dinner.

Everyone was brainstorming on activities to pass the time until the designated beach activities. That is until – “Guys, I found water guns!”

“Where the hell did you even get these?” Yejin asked. Wonwoo snorts, “Hey, I warned you not to let him wander off when he’s bored.”

The tall giant shoots his signature grin, “Found these and a few more in the duffel bags Coach packed. Let’s have a water gun battle to see who’s the better squad. Winning team gets bragging rights for the rest of the season!”

That’s all it took.

In just minutes, the rugby boys and cheer team split up into “teams”.

You crouched behind one of the benches, peeking over the seat as you pumped your water gun in a random direction, somehow successfully hitting Chan who yelped – “Noona, I didn’t even do anything to you!”

You can’t help but giggle, shouting out an apology while Seungcheol barked out orders like this entire game was a championship match instead of a simple water battle – typical.

You squeal when cold water splashes onto your arm. “Hey! Whoever that was, you better count your days!”

“Would be a dream!”

“Jiwoo, she’s off limits!”

You like this. The chaos that fills the air with laughter. It’s simple and pure, just like how the movies portrait or romanticise college life for cheerleaders and the rugby team.

Rounding a tree for cover, you collided with someone else who had the same idea. You squeak and a strong arm caught you by your waist before you could fall on your butt. Looking up, there stood Seungcheol in all his glory.

His shirt was drenched and clinging to his chest, droplets of water ran down his neck and Gods, if you didn’t have some form of self control, you’d probably jump him.

He looked just as surprised as you were – but it only lasted a second before that infuriating smug grin of his spread on his lips. “Didn’t think I’d find you here, sunshine.”

You huffed, trying to play it cool. Trying to act like your heart didn’t do that stupid flutter. “This is a water gun battle, Captain. You’re supposed to be fighting, not flirting.”

Seungcheol chuckles, “Who says I can’t do both?”

Before you can come up with a comeback, the captain lifted his water gun and fired at you at close range. The stream hit your shoulder, the water cold enough to make you gasp at the sensation.

“Choi Seungcheol!”

He laughs, dodging the spray of water you fired in return. You chased after him across the beach, trying both your best to not trip over your steps, shouting half-formed threats in between laughter. The rest of the squad had fallen into a similar form of chaos – Jihoon was wrestling Mingyu for some waterballoons, some of the cheer squad had formed a barricade with one of the picnic tables and Yejin was chasing after Joshua for a spare water gun.

You finally caught up to Seungcheol near one of the beach cabins, both of you panting, soaked, but still fiercely competitive.

“Okay, okay,” he said between breaths, “You’re a tough one, Sunshine.”

He extends a hand towards you, “Truce?”

You narrowed your eyes, suspicions high. “You’re a Leo who’s fiercely competitive. You don’t do truces.”

He smirks, “Maybe I make an exception for a certain cheerleader whose smile reminds me of the rays of sun.”

You hesitated, but decided to trust him. “Fine. Truce.”

He takes a step closer, lowering his water gun. “See? We can work together afterall.”

Just as you lowered your gun, you felt a stream of water his you right in the chest.

You blinked. “You–!”

He was already laughing, running away with his hands raised in the air as you chased after him. “You should know better than to trust the enemy who is also a competitive Leo, _!”

“You are so dead, Choi Seungcheol!”

Whoever said the sunsets look even more gorgeous at the beach was right. The sky was a blend of soft pink, purple, and orange. Whatever team bonding or rivalry was done for the day and everyone settled into a new routine with the rhythmic rolls of the ocean waves in the background.

Several of the rugby boys moved the grills a little further from the campsite, but not too close to the tides so they could enjoy both sides without compromising too much.

Yejin claps her hands together, “Alright! Cheer squad on sides. Rugby boys on grilling.”

“Try not to poison us with the grill,” Minjoo teases.

“Excuse me,” Mingyu scoffs. “We know how to cook. In fact, we’re excellent cooks!”

“Seungcheol had to search up how to cut an onion last time,” Yejin snorted.

“Hey!” Seungcheol called out from the grill, raising the tongs at the cheerleader. “That was one time!”

Moments go by and you’ve decided to hover nearby Seungcheol’s grilling station, watching his actions curiously. The sizzling sounded promising, but the smell… not really. “I don’t think they’re supposed to smell like that, Captain.”

Seungcheol frowned, “It’s fine, sunshine. They’re on a grill.”

He lifted a skewer and is rendered speechless when one side is visibly blackened. You tilted your head to the side, “Define… fine.”

Mingyu picks up another skewer, waving it in front of the captain's face. “I think it's fighting back, hyung.”

Seungcheol glares at him, “Go and see if the cheerleaders need help with the sides, Gyu.”

The giant raises his hands in surrender, walking away with a shit eating grin that makes the captain want to punch it off his face. You stepped closer, "You're flipping them too late, Seungcheol.”

“It's not that bad.”

You raised a brow, “Would you eat them when they look like that?”

He huffed a laugh and stepped aside to make room for you. “Alright, ___. Show me how to not turn dinner into… charcoal.”

You sprinkled some water onto the grill to lower the heat and spread out the skewers while the captain observed quietly, secretly impressed. “Didn't think you'd be the type to be good with grills, sunshine.”

“Went on several camping trips with my family and had my dad teach me some tricks.”

“So you're an outdoors girl, eh?”

“Only if food isn't about to be burnt and I'm not shoved deep into a forest.”

Seungcheol didn't think he'd be more attracted to you, but here he is – whipped because his little cheerleader crush enjoys the great outdoors.

Food was finally ready by the time the sky darkened and stars started blinking in one by one. Everyone gathered around the grill and bench table with paper plates and plastic cups. “Remember to throw your trash in the bags, team!” Minghao called out, “If I see anyone littering, you will get an ass whooping!”

Jihoon takes a seat next to you on one of the driftwood logs. “So… ___, right?”

You turn to him, “Depends on who's asking.”

“The Flanker.“

You shift and he chuckles, “Don't worry, I'm not here with ill intentions. Just curious about the girl that's got the captain so down bad.”

You snort, “Oh, please. You say that like it's something serious.”

He chuckles, taking a sip from his red plastic cup before replying. “Well, I did grow up with him so it's safe to say that I know when something's up. Cheol is… I guess you can say he's not the type to fall for people. If I remember correctly, he's had two ex-girlfriends but he didn't really like them as much as they did to him.”

“Why did he get together with them, then?”

Jihoon's lips twitch into a smirk. “Curious, arent'cha?”

You narrowed your eyes and he shrugged. “He likes them enough to be with them, but relationships aren't exactly a priority to him. During his first year, when we just enrolled, it was studies and the girl was more of a party animal which did kinda turn him off.”

You raised a brow. “I thought you jocks like going to parties. Alcohol, hook-ups, weed–”

“Okay, maybe some of them do. But, Seungcheol is more like… He's there to keep an eye on us, y'know? Gotta make sure his boys don't end up too deep in trouble.”

You hum in understanding. Maybe not all jocks are hormonal party animals, you thought.

“In second year, when he got accepted into the rugby team, his priorities became study and rugby. It was a little hard for him to balance those two while maintaining a relationship so, yeah.”

“And you think that this time it'll be different because I'm a cheerleader?”

Jihoon snorts. “Please, if you're thinking of that stereotypical jock and cheerleader trope, you can abandon it. I think it'll be different because you check out at most eighty percent of whatever his ideal type is.”

“And that is?”

“Passionte about what you love. Independent. You talk back or challenge him in a sense, and trust me when I say that shit turns him the fuck on.”

“Excuse me?”

He smirks, “You'll find out sooner or later. That is if you give him the chance. Kink aside, you also prioritise your studies.”

A beat of silence before he nudges your arm, “But, you didn’t hear it from me. Anyways, I gotta bounce because I can feel Cheol staring daggers at me. I'm not saying all these things to persuade you into accepting him as a boyfriend if he does decide to tell you. Think of it as me vouching for some kind of long-term investment that will benefit you both.”

“Nice business talk, Jihoon.”

“Hey, I'm a Finance major. Gotta know how to talk business.”

Both teams gathered around a bonfire after dinner. Joshua strummed the chords of the guitar while Dokyeom sang a random line from one of Mariah Carey's songs. You and Yejin passed around some marshmallows while someone yelled out, “Alright, time for a game of Truth or Dare!”

“I got a good one!” One of the cheerleaders announced. Pointing at Seungcheol, she asks him to pick. Being the Leo that he is, the captain chose Dare. The cheerleader grins, “Sit next to someone you'd like to get to know better.”

For a moment, he hesitated.

You felt his gaze on you even as your gaze was focused on the fire, watching the sparks rise and disappear. The silence was torturous to the group, but their gaze soon followed his and landed on you. Mingyu nudges him, “You buffering, Captain?”

Seungcheol cleared his throat, his neck turning a light shade of red. He moves to sit next to you and the teasing was immediate

“OHH–”

Seungcheol glares at his team, “Shut your mouths before I make you lot run laps tomorrow morning.”

The cabin lights flickered on one-by-one as everyone retreated for the night.

In your cabin, Yejin is quick to start the conversation as soon as she kicks off her sandals and plops onto her bed. “So, are we going to talk about it or pretend it didn't happen?”

All eyes were on you.

You blinked, “Talk about..?”

Another girl turned her head, mid-way putting on her face mask. “Don't play dumb, ___. Obviously about Choi Seungcheol.”

The cabin erupts into a chorus of hums and giggles. You groaned, “Come on, girls. What's there to talk about?”

“Um, have you forgotten the incident where he lent you his jacket when it rained a few weeks ago?”

“How he sat next to you for the dare?”

“Not to mention the way he kept looking at you whenever you laughed. Like, constantly.”

You rolled your eyes, braiding your hair for sleep while also hoping the somewhat dim lighting managed to hide the warmth creeping up your neck. ”It doesn't mean anything. He's just being nice.”

Yejin snorts, clearly unconvinced. “Right, nice. Last I remembered, the only people who got this level of ‘niceness’ were those girls he dated. And based on my observations, there's a difference when it comes to him being nice in general and down so bad I need this girl to be mine kind of nice.”

You don't respond – partially because you had no idea on how to respond to that. Even if you were to respond, what were you supposed to say? That for some odd reason, you kind of liked the way he hovered around you without it feeling like he was invading your personal space? That occasionally your heart would flutter at the thought of giving him a chance?

Noticing your lack of response, Yejin diverts the topic – not wanting to pry even though she wanted to.

Eventually, the voices softened. Someone had fallen asleep mid-scroll, the dim light of their phone lighting up their face before blacking out. Another cheerleader muttered something in her sleep before rolling over, snoring softly. One by one, the girls in your cabin settled into sleep – except you.

You lay on your back, staring at the ceiling with the sound of waves rhythmically crashing against the shore playing in the background. Your mind replays several instances of Seungcheol essentially pining after you. While you try to convince yourself that it meant nothing, you begin to doubt your thoughts too.

That doesn't really answer a lot though – why you?

Out of all the cheerleaders, out of all the girls – why specifically you?

You shifted carefully, careful to not wake either of the girls as you slipped out the cabin. Walking along the shoreline, you let the tide roll onto the cool sand and occasionally soak your feet. It was peaceful and the view was breathtaking, bringing you a sense of peace.

You stop when you feel someone behind you. Turning around, you're face-to-face with Seungcheol.

“Creeping up on me now, Captain?”

He laughs softly, shaking his head. “I view it more as me making sure you don't get hurt out here, sunshine.”

“By walking at a very questionable distance behind me?”

“Touche.”

You let him come up to stand next to you, watching the silver painted ocean while the gentle breeze blows in your faces. “Guess I'm not the only one that can’t sleep tonight,” he starts. “Penny for your thoughts?”

For a second, you had an internal debate. Do you ask him about his feelings? Or should you just… play dumb and act like nothing is going on?

The words slipped through your lips before you could stop them.

“Do you like me?”

The captain blinks, clearly caught off guard. His lips part, then shuts; and opens again. For a second, you wonder if you had maybe read too much into it – that maybe Yejin and Jihoon also read too much into his actions. But, he lets out a quiet huff. “Should've known Jihoon said something to you when he sat next to you.”

“Yejin said some things too,” you added.

“Of course she did.”

He tucks his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants, looking up at the stars. “They're not wrong, though. I do like you. Like, like like you. As in, I want you to be my girlfriend kind of like.”

You stare at him, taking in the way he looks right now. The moonlight softened his usual sharp features, stripping away any roughness that's usually seen on the field. Right now, he just looks… gentle. Soft. Like he just belongs to the calmness of the night.

“But… Why?”

He looks at you,”Do I really need a reason to like you, sunshine?”

“Um… In this day and age, clearly. How can I be sure you aren't those jocks that tell cheerleaders they like them to get up their skirts?”

He rubs the back of his neck, “Yeah… The media and how some of the boys act aren’t really helping my case, huh?” Sighing, he turns to look at you – really look at you. What caught your breath was the look in his eyes.

Genuine. Full of emotions.

“Look, I just… I don’t want you to look at me and think I’m like that,” he starts. “How jocks, athletes and captains are all the same. I get it, y’know. A few bad apples s’all it takes to ruin the bunch, but I don’t want you thinking I’m just another version.”

“Another version of what, Seungcheol?”

“That I don’t mean what I say. That I thrive off of attention, which while is true, doesn’t apply to… romantic interests. I don’t want you thinking that I’m doing all this just to get up your skirt and leave.”

A breeze picked up and a shiver shot up your spine. The word slipped past your lips before you could stop yourself, “Why?”

He doesn’t answer right away, tearing his gaze away from you to look at the dark ocean. “I do things with intent, sunshine. Sure, you could look at what I’m doing right now like I’m trying to increase my chances of sleeping with you; but that’s not my intention. You… You kind of… expect the worst from people, which I don’t blame you for. But I don’t want to be that.”

You swallowed, “You don’t know me that well.”

“And I want to.”

Silence followed – the air charged with something and the ocean kept lapping at the shore.

“I don’t offer my trust to just anyone. Especially when that trust involves my feelings.”

He waited for a ‘But’ that never came. It was evident to the rugby captain that chasing after this little cheerleader would be a challenge.

Luckily, he’s never one to back down.

After a while, he stood. “We should get some sleep. Tomorrow’s probably going to be even hectic before we head back to campus.” He offers you his hand, and you hesitated for several seconds before taking it.

“Yeah… Yeah, we should,” you mumbled.

He gently helped you up and only let go when you were steady.

“Goodnight, sunshine.”

“Goodnight, captain.”

Several weeks have passed since that night by the beach.

There was no drastic change in the way Seungcheol interacts with you, but he has been acting more… thoughtful? Considerate? You weren’t even sure what word to use. Sure, your routine in Cheonghwa is pretty much the same – it’s just that now you’re seen with a particular rugby captain more often.

How it started?

Well, let’s just say that Seungcheol has taken it upon himself to walk you home.

It started off unintentionally, or at least that’s what you both have been telling yourselves.

Practice ran later than expected one evening. By the time you had finished stuffing your pompoms into your duffel and zipped up your hoodie to hide the cheer uniform, the field light flickered to life. You sigh, slinging the bag over your shoulder and begin to walk across the field towards the gates.

You were about halfway there when you heard quick footsteps catching up to you.

“If you’re thinking of jumping me–”

“Whoa there, sunshine.”

Seungcheol had his hands raised in mock surrender, his own duffel hanging over his shoulder. “I’m not a threat.”

“Count yourself lucky I didn’t have my pepper spray in hand, captain,” you retort. “Could’ve blinded the star player before his Friday game.”

He chuckles, “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. Honest. I just… Well, your studio is in the same direction as mine so…”

The jock almost wants to kick himself at how bad he’s failing in trying to act and sound non-chalant.

“Are you offering to walk me home, Seungcheol?”

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

From that night on, it became part of your routine if practice ran on longer than usual. He’d catch up to you without a word, his pace adjusting to match yours almost immediately. After the first three times, Seungcheol’s even took it upon himself to carry your duffel bag for you – letting it hang over his own shoulder. You’ve tried to protest several times, technically every time, but he just shrugs it off.

“I want to do this, sunshine. Let me, alright?”

The walks with him were comforting, easy even. The conversations you both had never felt forced. It just came naturally – he’d ask about your routines, you’d ask about his pre-game ‘rituals’. Sometimes he’d even ask you about your classes, which subject made you nervous or which lecturer needed to be better at their job. Whenever you complained, he’d always make sure your feelings were valid.

When you talked about pressure and expectations, he shared some of his own experiences. How while he loved being captain, it was still a role he wasn’t expecting to receive.

“I always thought it’d be either Wonwoo or Jihoon to be honest,” he chuckled. “They’re both more… strategic.”

He goes on about how there were days he wishes he wasn’t captain – that the weight of leadership was heavy, especially when everyone expects you to have all the answers when you were figuring things out too.

Whenever you reach the lobby of your studio, he’d always make sure you walked through those gates. He never insisted that he followed you up to your studio in case it was crossing a line.

“Text me when you’re inside,” he would say, every time.

And every single time, you would.

What you didn’t know was that he’d only leave the lobby if he got that text. On the days you’d forget or were too tired to, he’d linger around for about ten minutes before leaving.

seungcheol 🏉: hey sunshine seungcheol 🏉: u up? seungcheol 🏉: kinda need hlp with some stuff sunshine ☀️: it’s 12am captain sunshine ☀️: what help could u possibly need? seungcheol 🏉: can i call u?

At first you thought he just needed to jog up his memory from previous classes – ones he’s taken before but had forgotten, and since you were both in the same course, it’d only make sense for him to do so. It was just two students helping each other with their grades, until you remembered he’s made the Dean’s List the past two years.

“You don’t actually need help, do you?” You asked over the phone.

Seungcheol lets out a laugh, one that’s warm and sheepish – like he’s been caught red-handed. “Okay, you got me. I don’t really need help with my studies.”

“Then why the calls?”

A pause.

It wasn’t the awkward kind, but you can tell he’s choosing his words carefully.

Then, he sighs. “Look, sunshine. I… I really like hearing your voice. I think it’s cute and admirable that you’re trying to explain something that you haven’t learnt, but still did it because you wanted to help me. And… Well, I like you.”

“You know I don’t trust anyone with my feelings, captain,” you reminded him. “Especially jocks.”

“I know,” he mutters. “I know you’re… scared of something, and I know my… courting methods probably aren’t making it any better. But, that doesn’t mean I won’t stop trying to earn your trust.”

His words had your fingers tightening around your phone. He wasn’t begging nor was he making a promise that’s too big to deliver.

He was just being honest.

Those calls stretched longer as time went on. Sometimes it’s about classes and exams; other times it’s just him indirectly getting to know you a little better. He’d ask you about your favourite colour, your childhood memories – sometimes he’d manage to get you to open up just enough where you’d say things you rarely said out loud.

Then, there were nights when exhaustion wins over you and you’d fall asleep mid-sentence.

Seungcheol never tried to wake you up.

He doesn’t hang up immediately either. He just listens to your steady, quiet breathing for a few minutes before he does hang up.

Like he’s making a silent promise to stay with you even when there are days where the world feels too heavy, where you’re too tired to speak.

One afternoon, right after practice, Yejin approaches you in the locker room. She leans against one of the mirrors, arms crossed when she says very matter-of-factly, “Seungcheol’s in love with you.”

You scoffed, “He’s not.”

“___, he carries your bag.”

“So? That doesn’t mean anything.”

“I heard he’s been calling you at night, too.”

“Studies.”

Yejin raised a brow.

You pursed your lips together, realising how weak that argument was. “Okay, fine – I’ll let you have that one…”

Another girl chimed in softly, “I’m gonna be honest, girl, he looks at you like you’re the only girl in the room. Anyone would kill to have that kind of attention from him.”

Your words came out harsher than intended, “That’s the problem.”

The silence that followed was heavy. You swallowed the lump in your throat, “Everyone wants his attention. Everyone wants him. Sure, he says all these sweet words and pays attention to me now; but jocks are all the same. They’ll get bored, ‘busy’, or maybe someone else will come along and then suddenly, you’re just… an afterthought to them.”

Yejin sighs, “Seungcheol isn’t like that, _.”

“How do you know for sure he isn’t like that?”

Tense silence fell over the locker room once again.

Against your paranoia or overthinking self, part of you wants to believe what Yejin is saying about Seungcheol. Hell, you want to believe the captain is genuine, too – especially with how his unspoken confession was seen everywhere.

In the way his knuckles brushed yours when he walked you home.

In the way he searches for you after winning every game with that stupid grin.

In the way his gaze softened whenever it met yours.

To the cheer and rugby squad, it was obvious that Choi Seungcheol’s feelings and intentions were pure even if you didn’t want to admit it.

And that terrifies you.

Seungcheol finds you sitting on one of the bleachers later that evening, lost in your own thoughts. He takes a seat next to you, maintaining a small; yet respectable distance between you both. The kind that tells you he’ll give you space, but if you need a shoulder to cry on, he’s just within reach.

“Yejin came to me to have a little chat,” he said carefully.

He hears you suck in a sharp breath. Turning to look at you, he studies your face. “She didn’t say anything bad about you, don’t worry. Just said that based on her observations or conversation from earlier, you have some… trust issues.”

He lets his words hang in the air for a moment.

“I’m not here to corner you, sunshine. I’m not here to force answers out of you too. I just… I want you to know that whatever it is you’re carrying, I’m not offended nor am I afraid of it.”

You let out a slow breath, though it trembled just a little. “It’s not you. I’m just… not good at trusting people without being reminded that there are consequences.”

He nods. “People don’t build walls without reason.”

He nudges you a little with his elbow, “I’m patient too, y’know.”

“Why? Why are you doing this?”

“Again, my feelings or actions aren’t temporary, sunshine. I really mean it when I say I want to be a part of your life. Highs and lows. Pretty and ugly. All of it.”

You desperately wanted to believe him, but the fear won’t let you.

“I’m not going to forcefully tear down your walls. I just… I want you to know that I’m willing to stand by your side. If you’ll have me.”

You slowly turn to meet his gaze. The longing and devotion in them were loud. They were telling you that he’s already chosen you.

You should’ve told him to leave. Tell him you wanted him to stop this pursuit quest he’s set his mind on.

But, you don’t.

taglist;

“You've been staring at the door since 7:40. It's currently 8:05. Taehyun's mom's going to walk through it any minute now and you're going to jump like she caught you doing something illegal.”

“I wasn't staring at the door.” You absolutely were staring at the door. 

“Okay.“ Jiwon holds up an oval that's more of a rhombus. “Do these look like chicken eggs to you?”

“They look like abstract art.”

She sticks her tongue out at you. “Okay, well, they're chicken eggs.”

Across the room, Soyeon — who technically works the front desk and has no real business in the classroom during the day, but wanders in anyway whenever she's got a free ten minutes — is refereeing a dispute over a single yellow crayon that has somehow become the most coveted object in the building. Two kids stand on either side of her, red-faced and furious, both absolutely certain of their claim.

“I had it first.”

“I had it first first.”

“There's no such thing as first first,” Soyeon says, with the weary patience of someone who's negotiated with cranky four year olds before breakfast and will again after lunch. “There are, however, eleven other yellow crayons in that bin. I checked.”

Neither kid finds this persuasive. You've learned, over three years, that most classroom diplomacy comes down to waiting people out rather than winning any actual argument, and sure enough, within ninety seconds both of them have abandoned the crayon entirely in favor of a much more interesting pile of dolls in the corner. Soyeon catches your eye over their heads and mouths good luck, and you give her a thumbs up you don't entirely feel yet as she disappears back to the office.

The door opens. It's Taehyun's mother, harried and talking rapidly about a meeting she's clearly already late for, depositing her son and his bag and a granola bar all in one motion before disappearing again in a cloud of strong perfume. Taehyun toddles toward the block corner without acknowledging either of you, which is, frankly, the daycare equivalent of a warm greeting.

You've got four kids in by 8:15, seven by 8:30, and by nine the whole room has that low hum of chaos that means the day's properly begun — someone building a tower, someone destroying a tower, someone crying about the tower's destruction with a passion. Chaewon, three going on forty, sits very seriously at the reading corner turning the pages of a picture book upside down and narrating it with complete confidence.

“That's not what it says,” you tell her, crouching down.

“I know,“ Chaewon says. “I made it better.”

You don't have a response to that, so you let her keep going.

By ten you've got the whole room moving through the usual currents — circle time, then centres, then the slow inevitable descent into midday crankiness over minor grievances that means it's almost snack time. You hand out orange slices and listen to a passionate, incoherent argument between two five-year-olds about whether dogs could, in principle, become doctors, a debate that resolves itself only when someone knocks over the entire bin of blocks and both parties get called away to help clean it up, already having forgotten what they were arguing about in the first place. 

This is the shape of your days, mostly. Small disasters, smaller triumphs, a lot of glitter you'll find in your hair for a week afterward. You do like it — the specific way you like something you didn't expect to love. You'd taken the job out of necessity two summers after a psychology degree that hadn't led anywhere near where you'd planned it would; you'd pictured a clinic, or a research post, or at the very least something with your name on a door, not a room full of glue sticks and orange peels. But somewhere in the middle of your first year you'd looked up from tying somebody's shoe and realised you weren't counting down to anything anymore. You like the kids, you like listening to their absolutely nonsensical debates, and okay, maybe the tantrums aren’t exactly a plus, but when they hand you a badly coloured apple or give the sweetest compliments about your outfit on any given day, your whole heart melts. You think about it sometimes — grad school, or moving away, but never with any real intensity. It could happen, someday, but for now, you’re happy exactly where you are.

Sunday dinner at your mom's is a fixed institution, always at the same table, same mismatched chairs, same argument, most weeks, about whether the good tablecloth is really necessary for a meal that will inevitably involve your younger sister spilling something on it. Agreeing to dinner once a week was one of your mother’s few stipulations when you decided to move out. And now Yuna's twenty-two and home for the summer between the end of her graphic design degree in another city and the beginning of whatever comes next, and she's currently interrogating you about your love life with the particular shamelessness only a younger sibling can manage.

“So nothing's happening with anyone,” she says, not a question.

You roll your eyes. “Correct.”

“Nothing at all. Zero activity.”

“I have a very rich inner life, Yuna, it doesn't all have to be romantic. Hobbies. Friends.”

“I didn't ask about your inner life, I asked if you're seeing anyone.“ Yuna reaches across the table for the rice without asking, which your mother allows only from her, a fact that has been a point of argument for roughly twenty years. “You have like, two friends anyway.”

Unfortunately, your younger sister is entirely correct. 

“I saw that lovely Choi boy last week, actually,” your mom says, entirely too casual about it, spooning more food onto your plate — which is her way of forcing you to stay in your seat. “He asked how you were doing. Very polite about it. He's always been polite, hasn’t he?”

You scoff. “He's flirting with the whole town, Mom, that's just what he does.”

“Mm,“ your mother says, which is not agreement, and also not disagreement, and is in fact the single most infuriating sound a mother can make. “He's been doing it a long time, though, hasn't he? Since you two were teenagers.”

“He asked her to proooom,” Yuna chips in, sing-song, and you promptly kick her under the table. “Ow! Mom!”

“That doesn't mean anything,” you say, over Yuna’s complaint.

“I didn't say it meant anything.” Your mother says it lightly, the way she says most things she actually means incredibly pointedly, a skill you're fairly sure you inherited directly from her and have spent years turning against her at this exact table. “I just think it's interesting that a man can ask about a woman for ten years and it doesn't mean anything, and a woman can turn him down for ten years and that doesn't mean anything either. Sounds like a lot of nothing happening for a very long time.”

“Can we talk about literally anything else,” you groan, rubbing a hand over your eyes. “In fact! We can talk about how Yuna still hasn't found a job,” you offer, and Yuna kicks you back under the table hard enough that you yelp, and your mother laughs, and the conversation moves on, mercifully, to safer ground — Yuna's job search, the neighbour's renovation, whether it's finally time to replace the good tablecloth — but you catch your mom looking at you once more over the course of the meal with an expression you don't examine too closely.

Here's the truth of it, if you're being honest, which you try not to be too often on this particular subject: Seungcheol's been flirting with you since roughly the ninth grade, in the low-grade, no-stakes way he’s never grown out of. But he also flirts with the guy at the post office. He flirts with Ms. Oh, who's sixty-one and unmarried and thinks he's a delight. He flirts with the bartender at the one good bar in town, who's engaged and finds it hilarious. It's not a thing you take personally, mostly, because it so clearly isn't personal — it's just the way it is with him, constant.

Except it's always felt a little more personal directed at you, and you've spent a lot of energy over the years making sure it never gets anywhere near landing. 

You remember the prom thing specifically, with a clarity that time hasn't done much to soften — him leaning against your locker two weeks before, hands in his pockets, asking with a shrug that was trying so hard to look like it didn't matter, and you turning him down before he'd even finished the sentence, because Kim Daeun had told you the week before that he'd asked three other girls the exact same way, and you weren't about to be a fourth. You'd found out later that wasn't true, that you'd actually been the only one he'd asked, but by then the pattern was already set, the reflex already built, and reflexes, you've learned, are a lot harder to unlearn than they are to learn in the first place. He hadn't argued, hadn't sulked, had just said “your loss” and grinned and gone off to ask someone else's opinion on which tie to wear instead, and you remember watching him walk away and feeling, underneath the relief, something that took you another decade to correctly identify as disappointment.

There was something else, too, that came later, and you think about it more than you'd like to admit, because by then you weren't the same girl who'd turned him down at a locker. You were two years into a psychology degree, home for a fortnight over the winter break, feeling like a slightly different person in your own hometown, the way you always did those first few days back, still half in seminar-mode, still analysing everything, including, apparently, yourself. You'd been walking back from your mum's when the sky opened properly, no warning, the kind of rain that soaks through in under a minute, and a car had pulled up alongside you with its window already rolling down before you'd even registered whose it was. Seungcheol in his brother's beat-up sedan, hair already damp from getting out to jog around and open the passenger door for you before you could say anything.

“Get in,” he'd said, entirely reasonable, entirely obvious, and you'd stood there on the curb, drenched, freezing, genuinely unable to think of a single sensible reason to say no, and said no anyway. You'd told him you didn't mind the walk, which was a lie so transparent you'd half expected him to call it, and he hadn't, had just looked at you for a second too long, rain running down from his long fringe onto his cheeks, before he'd said, “Alright,”  and driven off slowly. 

You'd spent the rest of that walk soaked through and furious with yourself in a way you didn't have language for yet, turning it over with the same detached, clinical curiosity you were being trained to turn on everything else that year — why did you say no, what did you think accepting would cost you — and never quite landing on an answer you liked. You remember thinking, absurdly, that you'd learned more about avoidant attachment that semester than you'd ever wanted to know, and that none of it had stopped you doing exactly what the textbook said you would.

You remember the coffee, more recently, and the movie, and the wedding — Soonyoung's cousin's wedding, the one he'd asked you to as a plus-one with an actual paper invitation he'd apparently gone to the trouble of getting an extra copy of, which you'd found both sweet and alarming in equal measure and you had turned down within about four seconds of seeing it, before you could think too hard about why your hands had gone a little unsteady holding it.

You expect it now. Seungcheol borderline flirts every time he sees you; occasionally he pushes his luck and asks you out, with enough time in between that you can’t call him insistent. 

Each time, you refuse it with the specific lightness of someone slamming a door gently enough that it doesn't look like she's slamming it. And each time he's taken it exactly the way he takes everything — with a grin, a shrug, a “your loss” tossed over his shoulder as he walks away completely unbothered, already on to the next joke, the next call, the next whatever. 

So you do the same — you don't examine it. You put it in the same drawer where you keep most things you don't want to look at directly, close it, and go back to your life.

The same week you have that pointed dinner with your mom, you see him at the grocery store — or rather, he sees you. It's a Wednesday, nothing special about it, and you're standing in the cereal aisle trying to decide whether you actually need a box of the good granola or whether that's just a symptom of grocery shopping hungry, when a voice behind you says, “You're gonna want the other kind.”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, not even bothering to turn around. “I didn’t ask you, Seungcheol.”

“You didn't have to. You've been standing there for a full minute looking at that box.” Seungcheol's got a basket hooked over one arm, and the basket, when you glance at it, contains a box of protein bars, a carton of orange juice (with pulp, which, ew), and a single lime, which tells you absolutely nothing about what he's planning to cook tonight. “The one with the honey clusters. Trust me.”

“I don't take grocery advice from a man whose entire cart is a lime and protein bars.”

“It's a basket, not a cart, and I resent the implication that I don’t know how to grocery shop.” He leans against the shelf, unbothered, like he's got nowhere else to be — which, this being a Wednesday evening and him apparently off shift, he probably doesn't. “You still owe me an answer on Seokmin’s barbecue thing, by the way.”

“That was two years ago, Seungcheol.”

“I have a long memory.”

“You have a selective memory. You don't remember owing Soonyoung forty dollars, but you remember a barbecue invitation from two summers ago.”

“Different category of memory. One's debt. The other's an open wound.” He says it with a hand pressed dramatically to his chest, grinning, and you roll your eyes and put the honey clusters in your cart anyway, which he looks entirely too pleased about.

“Don't,” you say.

“Didn't say anything.”

“You were about to.”

“I was going to say I'm always right about cereal, but sure, put words in my mouth.“ He falls into step beside you as you push toward the dairy section, not because he needs anything there, you're fairly sure, but because this is also just how it goes, has gone, for as long as you can remember: running into each other in the produce aisle or outside the post office or at the one gas station, falling into the same easy rhythm you've had since you were teenagers — like the conversation never really stops, just pauses between sightings. “How's the daycare? Still winning?”

“Every day's a battle, but yes.”

“You could come to Seokmin’s barbecue this year. Renewing my invitation.”

“I'll think about it,” you say, which is what you always say, and he laughs like he already knows what that means, because he does, because you've been having some version of this exact exchange for the better part of a decade — him asking, lightly, for something, you deflecting, lightly, in return. Neither of you ever quite landing anywhere, both of you apparently fine with that. You part ways at the register, him with his lime and his orange juice and his protein bars, you with a cart full of things that will mostly go uneaten, and you don't think about it again until you're halfway through unpacking your groceries at home and realise you're smiling for no reason you can name.

It isn't all banter, though, and it would be doing the whole thing a disservice to pretend it is. There's a version of you two that has nothing to do with the game at all, that surfaces every so often, and you think about one particular evening more than you'd probably admit to anyone, including yourself.

You'd run into him at the diner on the edge of town, the one that's open too late and serves coffee that's either too strong or too watery. He'd been alone in a booth looking like a man who'd had a longer day than usual, sleeves shoved up, staring at a mug he wasn't drinking from. You'd almost kept walking.

“You look like you got hit by that truck of yours,”you'd said, sliding into the booth across from him without being invited, and his look of surprise when he saw you mirrored exactly how you’d felt at your own actions.

“Feels about right.” He hadn't tried to make a joke of it, which was how you knew it was serious. Seungcheol without a joke ready was rare. “There was a house fire. We got everyone out,” he adds quickly, “It’s just — the house. It’s fucked up. Like, it was a couple and their kids, and their dog, and they were — you know. Gutted. Crying and shit. The kids, especially.”

You hadn't said anything clever, because there wasn't anything clever to say, and you'd known enough not to try, from years of watching adults fumble around children in crisis and from a psychology degree that had, in fact, occasionally been useful. 

“You did everything you could,” you'd said eventually, quiet, as he rubbed his hands over his eyes. “I know that's going to sound like nothing to you right now, but it’s true.”

He'd looked up at you properly then, something unguarded in his face that had nothing to do with flirting, nothing to do with the bit — just a kind of tired gratitude that made you want to reach across the table and grab his hand. “They teach you that in your psych degree or what?” he'd asked, attempting for a smile.

You mirror the smile, with a small shrug of your own. “Turns out it's good for something besides making me insufferable at dinner parties.”

That had got a real laugh out of him, short and surprised, and the two of you had sat there for another hour talking about nothing that mattered and everything that did — his brother, your sister,the particular dread of watching a four-year-old take a deep breath right before they’re about to scream the place down. He'd asked you, at one point, about college and your degree — he’d never been to college, of course, and he’d listened to the whole thing like it was the most interesting thing anyone had said to him all week.

You remember thinking, driving home that night, that you liked him best like this, unshowy, unarmoured, asking real questions and actually waiting for the answers — and you remember being immediately furious with yourself for thinking it, and filing the whole evening away in the same drawer as everything else.

Minji's been your friend since third grade, and she's the one person you still talk to who's known you both — you and Seungcheol — long enough to have a real opinion on the whole situation, which she airs freely and often. Today it's as she’s doing her nails, a shade of red she's had you hold the bottle for while she does the other hand, sitting cross-legged on her grandmother's back porch with two iced coffees sweating rings onto the railing between you.

“I saw Seungcheol at the gas station Tuesday,” Minji says without preamble, not looking up from her hand. “He asked if I'd talked to you lately. Very smooth about it. Very casual.“

“He's like that with—”

“If you say 'he's like that with everyone' I'm going to put this nail polish in your hair.“ She caps the bottle, finally looks at you, and there's none of your mother's careful lightness in it, just Minji's usual bluntness, worn soft by nearly twenty years of friendship. “I've watched this specific bit for ten years. I watched it in high school, I watched it through your entire early twenties,and at some point, as your best friend, I have to ask: what exactly are you so afraid of?”

You don’t answer straight away, dropping your gaze to the coffee. You take a sip, fiddle with the straw between your teeth before you sigh, tilt your head back towards the clouds. “He’s not serious. It’s like a game to him.”

“Did someone tell you that or are you just making up your own conclusions?” She arches a perfectly shaped brow. “It’s been years, ___.”

“Yeah, years of playful flirting. There’s literally nothing serious behind it — I turn him down and he laughs, Minji. It’s a joke. We both know it’s a joke.”

“Do you? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like he’s been stuck on you since high school, and you’re too scared of yourself to even give him a chance.”

She always knows how to hit where it hurts, exactly when you need to be hit. Your mouth opens for a second, and then closes as you flounder for something to say. “He’s not stuck on me,” you say finally. “Seriously. We’ve both dated other people, in high school and after.”

“Don’t be purposefully obtuse, you know what I mean. He likes you.”

“Well, he’s never actually said that!”

“Purposefully. Obtuse.” She pokes your forehead after each word. “What are you protecting yourself from here?”

You close your mouth, silenced and sulking about it.

“Because it's not him,” she continues. “He'd catch you. He's been standing there with his arms out for a decade.”

“It's not that simple.”

“It's exactly that simple, you've just made it complicated on purpose because complicated is easier to dismiss than simple.“ She blows on her nails. “He likes you. You like him. It’s the simplest fucking thing ever.”

You don’t say anything, just scowl and sip your coffee. Your best friend is harsh on the best of days, and usually you like it — today, she’s said everything you don’t want to hear.

“Anyway. How's Chaewon? Is she still doing her pirate princess story?”

“She's added a supervillain.”

“Of course she has.” Minji grins, and the conversation slides, mercifully, sideways — into Minji's own things, a promotion she's up for, a guy she's seeing who she's not sure about — and you're grateful for it, for the reminder that your life has edges that don't touch Seungcheol at all, whole rooms of it that are just yours, just Minji's, just the ordinary unremarkable texture of having a friend since you were eight years old. But underneath the rest of the afternoon, everything Minji said keeps surfacing, quiet and insistently plaguing your thoughts.

It's a Tuesday, unremarkable in every way, when Ms. Oh — who owns and runs Little Pines — gathers the staff in the break room after the kids have gone home to go over the calendar for the next month.

“Also,“ she says, near the end, flipping a laminated sheet, “Fire Safety Day's the fourteenth. The station's sending a few of the firemen out to do the usual — stop, drop, roll, let the kids sit in the truck, the whole bit.”

“Cute,“ Soyeon says, refilling her coffee. “The kids’ll love it.”

“Who's coming?” Jiwon asks, because Jiwon asks things you'd rather she didn't, and you’re pretty sure she has a crush on one of Seungcheol’s coworkers, Wonwoo.

“Didn't say. Whoever's on rotation, I'd assume.” Ms. Oh moves on to the field trip permission slips, and you let out a breath you hadn't noticed you were holding, and tell yourself, very firmly, that it doesn't matter who's coming. It's a fire station. There are, by your count, eleven firefighters in this town. The odds are fine. The odds are completely fine. 

You avoid thinking about Choi Seungcheol for the rest of the day. Which is to say, you think about him constantly for the rest of the day.

The morning of the fourteenth arrives, and the kids are beyond excited. They’ve talking about it for a week — Chaewon's drawn what she insists is a fire truck and what everyone else agrees looks more like a very angry snail, and Taehyun's informed you three separate times, with the grave authority of a man delivering breaking news, that firemen have “actual axes.” You've got the kids lined up in the yard by ten, sunscreen reapplied, hats on, when the truck rolls up the gravel drive with the low satisfying rumble that makes every single child under the age of six lose their entire mind at once.

You see him before the truck's even fully stopped. Of course you do. He's hanging half out of the passenger side before it brakes, waving at the kids (who are adorably excited), and something in your chest does the thing it always does — a small, private, entirely inconvenient drop, like missing a stair in the dark.

Choi Seungcheol climbs down in his full gear, helmet under one arm, and crouches immediately to be at eye level with a cluster of four- and five-year-olds who are looking at him like he's personally invented fire trucks. “Who wants to sit in the driver's seat?” he sings, and the resulting scream from twelve small children could probably be heard three towns over.

He's good at this. You'll give him that, freely, the way you give him most things freely except the one thing he actually asks for. He crouches and jokes and lets Chaewon try on his helmet, which swallows her entire head, and gets down on the ground to show a rapt little semicircle of children how the hose attaches, and doesn't once break character even when Taehyun asks him, with total sincerity, whether he's ever fought a dragon. (“Couple times,” Seungcheol says. “Rough guys, dragons. Mostly it's the smoke.”)

The other two firefighters who've come with him, an older woman named Yerin and Soonyoung, who you’d also gone to high school with, do their parts fine, competent and pleasant and funny, but the kids gravitate to Seungcheol easily and instinctively.

You've managed, for a solid twenty minutes, to stay on the opposite side of the gaggle of kids, ostensibly ensuring Beomgyu keeps his hat on. It doesn't last. Around the time the kids are being herded toward the truck to take turns sitting behind the wheel, he peels off from the group and ambles over, helmet tucked under his arm, looking entirely too good for someone who's just spent twenty minutes being climbed on by preschoolers.

“You've got glitter on your face,” he says, by way of hello.

“I always have glitter on my face. It's basically work uniform at this point.”

“It's a good look on you.” He says it easily, the same way he says everything, but his eyes do a quick pass over you before landing back on your face with that brief dimpled smile, and you hate — hate — the small flicker of warmth that swells in your stomach.

“You didn't have to come,” you say, which isn't true, since he clearly did have to come, it's his job, but it's the fastest thing you can think to say that isn't I hoped you wouldn't and also knew you would.

“Somebody's gotta protect this town's youth from the dangers of unattended candles,“ he says solemnly. “It's a calling.“

“Right. Noble.” You pause. “They’re four, by the way.”

“Extremely noble. You should be nicer to me. I'm basically a public servant.”

“I'm always nice to you.”

“You're the meanest person I know,“ he says, delighted, “and I mean that as a compliment to your commitment.”

“Anyway,” he says, looking over to the truck. “The kids are gonna want to come to the station. We usually do that — let them see where the trucks live and everything. I can set it up with your boss if that's alright with you.”

“Sure,” you say, half-listening, half-watching the kids. You’re pretty sure Beomgyu and Yeonjun are going to trip, chasing each other like that. “Whatever's easiest.”

“You'll come too, right? Chaperone duty?”

“That's generally how field trips work, yes.” 

“Good.” He says it satisfied, like it matters, and for just a second something honest surfaces under the joking — you catch it before he tucks it away again, the way you sometimes do, a flash of something steadier than the bit usually allows.

And then, before you can examine that, Chaewon comes sprinting over demanding to know if the truck can go faster than a police car, and he's gone again, crouched down explaining horsepower to a three-year-old with the same total sincerity he used on the dragon question, and you stand there for a second longer than you mean to, watching him, before you make yourself go help Yerin with the hose demonstration instead.

By the time the truck pulls away an hour later, every single kid in the yard is talking about the fire station visit like it's the moon landing. You've got a feeling you won't hear the end of it for a while.

You don't hear the end of it for a while.

For the better part of two weeks, the fire station visit's the single principle of every conversation the four-year-olds have. Taehyun draws the truck again, several times, with increasing and alarming detail about the axes. Chaewon stages an elaborate reenactment during free play in which she plays “the fireman” and assigns you the role of “the person who has to be saved,” which you accept with as much dignity as you can muster while lying on the carpet pretending to be unconscious as a group of kids tug at your legs. Jiwon, of course, finds the whole thing extremely funny.

The days have a way of absorbing whatever's going on with you and continuing regardless, which is, most of the time, a mercy. Circle time happens. Snack time happens. A minor crisis occurs when it's discovered that the class hamster, Mr. Biscuit, has gotten loose sometime overnight, and he's eventually located, after forty tense minutes and one very dramatic search party. Chaewon had refused to take part in said search party, and had instead spent the entire time in the reading corner, insisting Mr. Biscuit would “come back when he was ready,” which, infuriatingly, turns out to be correct.

You also go back to your evenings, which have nothing to do with any of it — a phone call with Yuna where she vents about her job search, an afternoon spent helping Minji repaint her spare room, a Sunday at your mom's where the subject of Seungcheol does not come up even once, a small mercy you're grateful for and slightly suspicious of. Life, in other words, keeps being a whole life, most of which has nothing to do with him at all, which is the thing you keep having to remind yourself of whenever it starts to feel otherwise.

Friday nights, when you're not too wrecked from the week, you go to the bar with Minji and Jimin and a few other friends, because it's the only bar in town worth it. It's not a big fancy place, with its low light,  jukebox, and pool table with a wobble in one of the left legs, but it’s the only place to go, really, unless you want to make the drive into the city.

Minji drags you along after a week of promotion nerves and you go willingly enough. The place is familiar enough to be comfortable even after the tiring week you’ve had, but you’re not really looking to drink too much tonight. 

You've had a few sips of a cocktail by the time the door opens and a loud group of off-duty firefighters spills in, mid-laugh, and naturally, Seungcheol's in the middle of it. He’s saying something that's got Soonyoung doubled over, and you feel the familiar lurch of oh, here we go before you've even fully processed that he's clocked you across the room.

“Oh, this'll be good,” Minji murmurs into her drink, and you kick her under the table, which only makes her grin wider. 

You run into him often, at this bar, so seeing him isn’t really a surprise in itself. He grins at you as he and his friends make their way first to the pool table, and you return the gesture with an awkward nod, and somehow almost drop your drink in the process. 

It’s maybe forty five minutes later that he actually comes over to you. He always does, at least once when you run into each other like this, always comes to say hi, which usually leads into some kind of line.

He waves Dohyun, the bartender, over and orders a whiskey on the rocks, and for a while you just talk, as the ice in his drink melts. Easy, unimportant things, the kind of conversation that happens naturally between two people who've known each other long enough that silence isn't awkward, just comfortable. He tells you about a call they had that week, a cat stuck in a drainpipe that took forty-five minutes and drew a crowd. You tell him about Chaewon's ongoing crusade against the concept of naptime, which makes him laugh so hard he has to put his drink down, not that he’s drank much of it. Somewhere in there Minji peels off to go play pool with Jiwon and Soonyoung, throwing you one loaded look over her shoulder on the way that you very deliberately ignore.

Somehow, the two of you have drifted from the bar itself to a booth in the back corner, and Jiwon's gone home with a wave you barely registered, and Minji's deep in a game of pool she's losing badly and loudly to Soonyoung, and you're sitting closer to him than you were an hour ago without being able to say exactly when that happened. He's telling you something about his brother’s wedding, some story about a groomsman and a dropped ring you're only half following because you've gotten distracted by the way he laughs at his own joke before he even finishes it, the way his hand's landed, at some point, loosely on the back of the booth behind your shoulders, close enough that you can feel the warmth of it without him actually touching you.

“You're not listening,” he says, not offended, just observing.

“I'm listening.”

“What'd I just say?”

“Something about a ring.“

“Close enough.“ He's looking at you in a way that feels different from the usual — like he's forgotten, for a second, to be charming about it. “You've got that look.“

“What look?”

“You’re totally zoning out. That look.”

You snort, aiming for humour. “I'm always zoning out around you.“

“I know,” he says, and there's something in his voice, something almost fond and almost sad at once, so much that it makes your levity fall flat and for a moment neither of you says anything at all. Then he smiles, “You always zone out anyway, though. I remember from school.”

“Please.”

“It’s true! I remember it happening in history class and Miss Lee had to snap her fingers in front of your face!”

Heat crawls up your face. “Oh my God, I can’t believe you remember that! That was in my first week, too, I nearly cried.”

“I remember,” he smiles. “Everyone was talking about the new girl who just moved to town and that was the first time I saw you.”

It's strange, the way ten years can gather themselves into a single quiet second like that — all of it sitting there in the space between his face and yours, close enough now that you can count his eyelashes if you wanted to, which you don't let yourself do, except you do anyway. You think, distantly, of Minji on the porch — he's been standing there with his arms out for a decade — and your mother at the dinner table — sounds like a lot of nothing happening for a very long time — and something in you that's held itself very carefully closed for a very long time simply, without your permission, stops holding.

He leans in, slow enough that you have every opportunity to move. You don't take it.

The kiss, when it happens, isn't clumsy at all, not at first — it's slow, almost unbearably so, like he's been waiting so long for it he's decided to actually take his time now that he's got it, one hand coming up to your jaw so lightly it's almost a question, and you answer it by leaning further in, by letting your hand find the front of his shirt and hold on, and you kiss him back like you mean it, because you do. Then his other hand finds your waist and yours finds the back of his neck and the two of you shift closer in the booth and it turns into something hungrier, less careful.

Somewhere in the bar, distantly, you hear Minji whoop, and you don't even have it in you to be embarrassed.

Then your brain catches up with the rest of you, the way it always eventually does, and you pull back, breathing hard like you've run somewhere. Seungcheol looks a little wrecked, the same way you feel, his hair mussed and his lips a little swollen, and you guess you must look something similar.

“I—” you start, and don't finish, because you don't actually know what comes next. 

“Hey,” he says, low, steady, not moving away, his thumb still resting at your jaw like he’s catching up to the fact that you're pulling out of it. “It's okay, just — ”

“I shouldn't have — ” You're already reaching for your bag, your keys, anything to hold onto that isn't him. “I think I had too much to drink.“

“You didn’t even finish your cocktail,” he says, and he's not smiling now, which is somehow worse than if he had been. “Can we just — talk for a second? I've been wanting to say something for a while, and I know the timing's not— ”

“Cheol, I’m sorry — I — I really think I should go,” you’re fumbling with your bag and your words at the same time.

“I'm not trying to freak you out.” He says it gently, both hands visible now, like he's talking someone down off a ledge, which, you suppose, isn't entirely inaccurate. And his voice speeds up a little, because you’re still gathering your things and avoiding his gaze and it’s his turn to trip over his words: “I just — I like you. Like, actually. I know it's always been the bit, with us, and that's fine, that's — I get why. But I'm not messing around right now. I want you to know that. Can we just talk for a se—?” And he cuts himself off, because you’re standing up.

It's the most honest he's ever been with you, stripped clean of the performance, and it terrifies you in a way you don't have language for at eleven-thirty on a Friday with your pulse still loud in your ears. “Please,” he says, softly, so softly, and his hand brushes against yours, feather-soft. You make the mistake of looking, and he’s gazing up at you from the booth, his eyes pleading and brown and warm and serious.

“I have work in the morning,“ you say, which is a lie, and you both know it's a lie, it’s a fuckin Saturday, but he lets you have it anyway, some tired resignation moving through his face.

“Okay,” he says quietly. “Okay. Get home safe.”

Minji catches you by the door, pool cue still in hand, all the teasing gone out of her face the second she sees yours. “Hey,” she says, softer than you've heard her all night. “You good?”

“I don't know,” you say honestly, and she doesn't push, just squeezes your arm once and tells you she'll call a cab for both of you, and you let her, grateful, not for the first time, that she's known you long enough to know exactly when not to push.

You don't remember much of the ride home. Your hands are shaking slightly as you find your keys at your own front door, and you don't look back toward the bar even once, and you lie awake for a long time afterward turning the whole thing over and over in your head like a stone you can't put down, unable to decide which part scares you more — that he said it, or that some traitorous, long-buried part of you wanted to say something back.

You don't see him again for eleven days, which you know because you count, which you're furious with yourself for doing.

Life continues in the meantime, because it does that, indifferent to the small personal catastrophes you're nursing. There are snacks to portion out and scraped knees to bandage and an entire day on the letter Q that takes far longer than it has any right to. Chaewon's fireman reenactments continue unabated, blessedly innocent of the fact that you now flinch slightly every time she mentions the word. Jiwon notices you're off but, for once, has the mercy not to push, which you appreciate more than you tell her.

Sunday dinner happens in the middle of the eleven days, and you spend most of it pushing rice around your plate while your mother and Yuna talk around you, until your mother, halfway through clearing the table, pauses behind your chair and rests a hand briefly on your shoulder. Not asking anything, just letting you know she's noticed, which somehow makes it harder to hold together than if she'd asked directly. Minji calls twice and you let both calls go to voicemail, not because you don't want to talk to her but because you know exactly what she'll say, and you're not ready yet to hear it out loud, even though some louder part of you already knows she'd be right.

The field trip to the fire station is scheduled for the Thursday of that second week, and you've spent a genuinely humiliating amount of effort trying to get out of it. You ask Jiwon, with what you hope is believable casualness, if there’s any possible way Ms Oh would let you skip it and take a parent chaperone instead. She looks at you like you've suggested trading a kidney.

“Absolutely not. Do you know Ms Oh? No. You're going.”

You haven't been able to think of a version of the truth small enough to hand her, so you let it drop, and here you are on Thursday morning, herding twelve overexcited kids onto a rented minibus with the specific dread of someone walking toward a conversation she's been dodging for a week and a half.

The station's a squat brick building on the edge of downtown, garage doors up, two trucks gleaming in the shade, and the kids lose their minds the second the bus door opens. You busy yourself with headcounts and hand-holding, buying yourself as much time as you reasonably can before you have to actually look at him.

When you do, it isn't what you expect, and somehow that's worse.

Seungcheol is polite. That's the word for it, the only word, and it lands like a slap precisely because it's so foreign coming from him. He greets the kids with the same warmth as before — you'll give him that, he never once lets it touch them — crouching down, letting them climb the truck, patiently explaining the same things he explained a month ago in the daycare yard. 

There's one second, early on, when he glances up and catches your eye across the garage and something almost warm flickers there on instinct, old habit, ten years of muscle memory — before he seems to remember, visibly, and shuts it down, his face resetting into something careful before he looks away again. You watch it happen and wish, immediately, that you hadn't seen it. But mostly, for the rest of the hour, there's none of the usual spark in his eyes when they pass over you, none of the teasing, none of the warmth that's always, always been there even when you were actively trying to shut it down. He nods at you once, says “morning,“ in a tone you've never heard him use on you before and then turns his attention fully to the kids and doesn't look at you again for the better part of an hour.

It should be a relief. Instead, it fucking stings.

Yerin gives the group tour of the trucks. Soonyoung lets three kids at a time try on a real helmet. Seungcheol does his part competently, kindly, and entirely at arm's length from you, and when the visit wraps up and the kids are being herded back toward the bus in a loose, sunscreen-smelling parade, you find yourself hanging back at the garage door while Jiwon does the headcount, because you can't make yourself walk away without saying something, even though you have no idea what the something is.

“Hey,” you say, inadequately.

He's coiling a length of hose that doesn't especially need coiling. “Hey,” he says, not looking up. “Kids have a good time?”

“They loved it. You're good with them.” 

“Yeah, well.” He sets the hose down, finally looks at you, and his face is doing the thing it's been doing all morning — pleasant and closed-off.

“Seungcheol—”

“You should get back to the bus,” he says, not unkindly, which somehow makes it land harder than if he'd been sharp about it. “Don't want to lose a kid on my watch.”

It's a joke, technically, the shape of one, but it comes out flat, missing the thing that always makes his jokes land — that easy, unbothered warmth. You realise, standing there in the wide mouth of the garage with the smell of diesel and rubber hose around you, that you've finally managed it. 

“Okay,” you say, because you can't think of anything else, and you turn and walk back to the bus, and don't let yourself look back at the garage until you're sure the kids can't see your face. You spend the entire drive back with a thick lump in your throat and something burning behind your eyes.

You don't sleep well that night, or the two after it. Your brain keeps circling back to the same three minutes in a garage no matter what you try to distract it with. You go through the motions of your days competently enough — nobody at Little Pines seems to notice anything beyond your slightly quieter mood, which you blame on being tired — but underneath the surface you're doing the thing you've always been careful never to do where he's concerned: you're actually thinking about it. 

You skip Friday at the bar that week, and the one after, telling Jiwon and Soyeon you're just tired, which is half true. Minji shows up at your apartment uninvited the same night with a bag of takeout and an expression that says she's done waiting for you to call her back, and you let her in because you don't have it in you to pretend anymore, not to her.

“Okay,” Minji says, setting the containers out on your coffee table like she's settling in for a long negotiation, which, you suspect, she is. “Talk. All of it. I already know something happened at the bar, I was there for the whoop-worthy part, I just don't know the rest.”

So you tell her. All of it — the kiss, what he said after, the eleven days, the garage, the way his face had gone so carefully closed you almost hadn't recognised him. Minji listens without interrupting, which for Minji is its own kind of remarkable, and when you finally run out of words she doesn't say I told you so, which you'd braced for, and which you almost wish she had, because instead she just looks at you, steady and a little sad on your behalf, and says, “You know what you have to do.”

“I know what I have to do.”

“So why haven't you done it yet.”

“Because I've never actually done this before,” you admit, and it's the truest thing you've said out loud in two weeks. “Turning him down, that I know how to do. That's years of practice. I don't know how to do the other thing.“

“Nobody knows how to do the other thing,” Minji says, not unkindly. “You just do it anyway.”

You think about the ten years of it, after she leaves, sitting alone with the takeout containers cooling on your table — the prom, the rain, the coffee you never got, the wedding you didn't go to as anyone's plus-one, every single time you took the easy warm shape of his affection and handed it back to him like something you couldn't use. 

You think about how none of it ever once made him flinch, how you told yourself that meant it didn't matter to him, when really (you can see it now, uncomfortably clearly) it probably meant the opposite. It meant he’d turned the flirting into a joke on purpose, so a no from you never actually cost him anything. But then — keeping it up, over and over, for years, because some idiotic, hopeful part of him had apparently decided you were worth that particular patience.

And you'd spent that same decade telling yourself it was nothing more than a bit, because the alternative — that it wasn't nothing, that it never had been, and that you might actually want it back — was a door you weren't ready to open.

By Sunday you’ve waded into your thoughts deep enough that you can't ignore it anymore. You sit on your kitchen counter with a cup of tea you're not drinking and you make yourself actually look at the thing you've kept in the drawer for ten years, and what you find, when you finally look, isn't complicated at all. It never was. You'd just been very good at making it look that way.

It occurs to you, sitting there with your tea going cold, that obviously, you’ve dated other people since the ninth grade, even been serious with one or two, and none of them ever tied you up in knots the way this has. 

It’s not that they mattered less. It’s that none of them were Choi Seungcheol, who’d been the easiest person in your entire year to like, who’d had half the school a little bit in love with him since he was fifteen, and you’d been so sure back then that a boy like that leaning against your locker was a joke because the alternative — that he meant it, about you, specifically — just didn’t make sense.

It had been simpler, safer, to decide it was just Seungcheol being Seungcheol, the same warmth he handed out to the woman at the post office and the bartender at and anyone else unlucky enough to be standing in front of him, and to file yourself in with all of them instead of letting yourself be the one exception. 

You call Jiwon, because you've run out of ways to have the conversation only with yourself, and because Minji's already said her piece and you want, this once, a second voice saying the same thing back to you before you trust it.

“Okay,” Jiwon says, once you've gotten through the whole thing, sitting cross-legged on your kitchen floor with your phone on speaker and a second cup of tea gone cold beside you. “So let me get this straight. You've liked him since — what, ninth grade?”

“I didn't say I liked him since ninth grade.”

“You basically said that.”

“I said I'd been turning him down since ninth grade, that's a different thing. I think it started as something silly. I haven’t been, you know, pining around for him for a decade straight, and neither has he.” 

You can hear her moving around her own kitchen, a cupboard opening and closing. “Yeah, well. It seems like he’s been waiting for a chance for a decade, though.”

You don’t have anything to say to that. Jiwon continues anyway, so you don’t have a chance. “I genuinely thought you two just had a bit going.  A little routine. I didn't realise that it was unresolved feelings the entire time, and I consider myself a fairly perceptive person, so, congratulations, you've out-repressed even me.”

“That's not a compliment.”

“It's not not a compliment.” A pause. “You're going to go find him, right? Not just think about it for another week.”

Your nose scrunches. “I might.”

“Don't. Go tonight. Or tomorrow. Just — don't let this be a thing you circle for another decade, you've circled it long enough.” 

You laugh, the first real laugh you've managed in days, and it loosens something in your chest that's been sitting there, tight and small, since the fire station garage. “Tomorrow,” you say. “I'll go tomorrow.”

“Good. And tell me everything after. I mean everything.”

“I'm not going to tell you everything.“

“You're going to tell me everything,” Jiwon says, with total confidence, and hangs up before you can argue, which, you have to admit, is probably the correct read of the situation.

You find him on Tuesday evening, off shift, at the little park two streets from the station where you know — because everyone in a town this size knows everyone's habits eventually, whether they mean to or not — he sometimes goes to shoot free throws alone on the cracked half-court when he's got something on his mind. 

Your hands are unsteady the whole drive over, and twice you nearly turn around, and both times you think of Minji on your couch, of your mother's hand on your shoulder, of Jiwon's voice on the phone, and you keep driving.

He sees you before you reach the fence, ball tucked under one arm, and for a second his face does something complicated — surprise, then that same careful, contained politeness from the fire station, sliding down over it like a shade.

“Hey,“ he says. “Everything okay? Kids alright?”

“The kids are fine. I'm not here about the kids.” Your voice sounds horribly strained. If he notices, he doesn’t comment, just waits, bouncing the ball once against the cracked asphalt like he needs something to do with his hands.

“I've been an idiot,“ you say, which isn't how you'd planned to start, but it's true, at least. “For, honestly, a really long time. I don't know how to say the rest of it in a way that doesn't sound like I practised it in my car on the way here, so I'm just going to tell you I practised it in my car on the way here and say it anyway.“

That gets the smallest flicker of something across his face — not quite a smile, but the ghost of one.

“I think I started off thinking you were teasing me, back in school. I thought it was a joke when you asked me to prom. And then after that I just needed you to be joking, because to me it didn’t make sense for you to be serious. And because the alternative meant I had to admit I wanted it too, and I didn't know what to do with that, so I kept handing it back to you instead.”

He sets the ball down against his hip, quiet, still watching you with an expression you can't fully read.

“And at the bar,” you say, “I panicked because I think I realised you meant it, and I realised I did too, and then, I don’t know, I just totally freaked. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t take you seriously and I kept brushing you off and I was mean when you didn’t deserve it, and I’m really, really sorry.”

He's quiet for a moment, turning the ball slowly in his hands, and when he speaks again some of the careful politeness has gone out of his voice, replaced by something rawer, more tired. “I wouldn’t have asked you if I didn’t mean it. It was just — in high school, yeah, I had a crush on you. And then after, there would be whole stretches where I wouldn’t even think about it. I mean, you went to college and I went to the academy, and — then you’d show up again and, I don’t know. Especially when you moved back.” He pauses — the ball slips out of his hands, and you both watch it bounce to a stop. “You were always worth asking,” he says, finally. “I wanted the chance again, every time, even if you wouldn’t take me seriously.”

“I'm really sorry,” you say, and you mean it. 

“Okay,” he says, soft, and something in his shoulders loosens. “Practised in your car,” he repeats, and there — there it is, the corner of his lips turning up, small and a little disbelieving, like he isn't sure yet whether to trust it.

“Don't gloat.”

“I'm not gloating. I'm saving this for later. I'm going to bring it up constantly.”

“There he is,” you say, and your own eyes are stinging in a way you choose to blame on the wind, and he crosses the distance between you, slower than at the bar, giving you every chance to step back, and you don't, and this time when he kisses you, there's nothing careless in it at all.

an: i did not intend for this to be so complicated i rewrote this three times with different plots and editing took way way longer than intended. idk. it’s nearly 4am and i need to sleep.

perm taglist: @n4mj00nvq @eoieopda @som1ig @wondering-out-loud @tokitosun @hannyoontify @sahazzy @icyminghao @lvlystars @immabecreepin @hanniehaee @kokoiinuts

@yepimthatonequirkyteenager @weird-bookworm @phenomenalgirl9 @lightnjng

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You were too busy describing the cat’s little white socks.

“So then I was like, ‘Hi baby, do you have a home?’ and she—”

He made a low, strangled noise.

You blinked. “What?”

“Nothing,” he muttered, but his jaw was tight and he was biting the inside of his cheek like he was physically restraining himself.

His free hand came up to pinch your cheek gently, then not so gently, squishing the soft skin between his fingers.

“Cheollie, I’m trying to tell you about the cat—”

“You’re killing me,” he groaned, voice rough.

“You’re actually going to kill me.”

You tilted your head, confused and a little pleased.

“What did I do?”

“You’re talking with the hoodie paws. You’re using voice cracks. You called a stray cat ‘baby’ in that voice.”

He sat up suddenly, pulling you closer by the ankles until you were half in his lap.

“You’re being so fucking cute I can’t breathe.”

Your face heated. “I’m just talking—”

“Exactly.”

He cupped your cheeks with both hands now, thumbs brushing your skin almost reverently. His eyes flicked all over your face like he couldn’t decide where to look your sparkling eyes, your slightly puffed cheeks, the way your lips kept moving even as he held you. “You talk too much and it’s lethal. I’m having cuteness aggression. Medical emergency.”

You giggled, trying to squirm away half-heartedly.

“You’re so dramatic—”

He cut you off with a kiss.

Not a soft one. Not the gentle little peck he usually gave you when you were being silly.

This was sudden and deep and hungry, like he’d been holding back for the last ten minutes and finally snapped.

His lips moved against yours with purpose, one hand sliding to the back of your neck to tilt your head just right.

You made a surprised little sound that only seemed to make it worse.

“Cheol—” you tried to say between kisses, but he swallowed it, kissing you harder. His other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you fully into his lap until your knees bracketed his thighs.

The hoodie rode up your legs and his warm palm slipped underneath, resting possessively against the bare skin of your lower back.

“You’re so cute it hurts,” he mumbled against your mouth, barely pulling away enough to speak.

“Every time you get excited like that… fuck, I just want to kiss you stupid.”

“Then do it,” you whispered, dizzy and grinning.

He did.

The next kiss was slower but no less intense tongue brushing yours, teeth grazing your bottom lip, the kind of makeout that made your fingers curl into his hair and tug. He groaned softly at the pull, the sound vibrating through you.

One of his hands slid up your spine under the hoodie while the other stayed on your cheek, thumb stroking like he still couldn’t believe you were real.

You pulled back just enough to breathe, foreheads pressed together.

“Hi,” you said softly, a little breathless, cheeks burning.

Seungcheol’s eyes were dark, lips kiss-swollen, but the fond smile that broke across his face was pure sunshine. He squished your cheeks again, gentler this time, and planted three rapid little kisses on your puckered lips.

“My baby,” he murmured, voice wrecked.

“My cute, talkative, lethal baby. Keep talking. I’ll just keep kissing you every time I can’t handle it anymore.”

You laughed, bright and giddy, and leaned in to kiss him again soft this time, sweet, the kind of kiss that tasted like promises and quiet nights in.

He smiled against your mouth, arms tightening around you like he never planned on letting go.

Outside, the city kept moving, but in here it was just you, his favorite hoodie, and Seungcheol’s endless, adorable, slightly feral love.

Taglist 🥂

@stella-dreamy @joongtime

Neither of you say anything for a few seconds, you don’t know what to say. You’re pissed off he’s made you wait. But can you really be mad at a man that looks like that? Because he’s big, bigger than you even imagined. Not that you’ve spent much time thinking about the body of the drummer of your favourite band. You’ve definitely not searched Choi Seungcheol arms over a hundred times on pinterest. Absolutely not. 

“You’re not Woozi ,” He smirks, his gaze assessing you from head to toe as he leans on the door frame with his big, muscley, perfect, biteable arms folded. Fuck you need to stop looking at them, but they’re just so big.

“N-no,” Damn, his smirk only grows because of your stuttering. “You need to sign this.” 

“There’s no fans allowed into the hotel.”

“I’m not a fan.” 

“Sure you’re not. Listen, unless you want to join us, or wait for her to leave and then come in and get a taste of this," he gestures at his body, "I suggest you fuck off and crawl back under whatever weird little rock you came from. Breaking into a hotel is stalker behaviour." His smile is one of sarcasm and it’s at that moment you suddenly realise that the drummer from your favourite band is a fucking asshole. 

“I’d rather stick pins in my eyes.” You smile back, enjoying seeing him falter a little, “You or rather your friend needs to sign this. I’m Woozi’s new assistant. I’d ask if you could shout your friend out here for me but I presume you don’t know her name, so can I come in?” 

You don’t wait for an answer. Just push past him, ignoring how his skin seems to be as soft as a baby's, and storm into the room to find the poor girl who needs to sign the NDA in your hand. 

“Hi,” 

“Who’s she?”

“He doesn’t know my name, just like he probably doesn’t know yours. And honestly you seem much too pretty a girl to be treated that way.” 

They both look at you a little shocked but you don’t care. 

You scan around the room, noting how they’ve clearly had quite the night if the various pieces of clothing around multiple surfaces are anything to go by. You can’t help scrunch your nose a little in disgust when you see three used condoms thrown messily near the bin. You suppose you should be thankful for small mercies, at least he’s not riddling the poor women with diseases and he’s saved an unsuspecting cleaner the trouble of cleaning cum stains off the floor because the idiot has tied a knot in them. 

Woozi said he hated having to ask you to do this but there’d been an emergency with the guys taking the stage down in Osaka, ready for you all to move onto Tokyo, and he needed to rush off. You get why he hates it, it’s like making sex a business transaction and you’re the one who’s having to facilitate it. But if you didn’t, you risk the band’s secrets being spilled and then every fan in the world would have the same realisation as you. That Seungcheol is a prick. 

“He knows my name,” She narrows her eyes at you but you’re just trying to ignore the little marks Seungcheol has left behind on her neck and breasts. Her only being in her underwear makes it easier to see them and the sight leaves a weird feeling in your stomach even though you’ve just recently decided you hate him. 

She turns to Seungcheol, waiting for him to say that he obviously knows the name of the woman he’s spent the night with. 

You wish you had her blind optimism. 

“S-sure! It’s er…….well it’s er………J….” His “friend's” eyes get wider as he tries to ask if it starts with a J and your heart sinks for her. 

You’re all for one night stands. Or not having one night stands. It’s up to whoever it is. But you know if any of the people you’d slept with did what he’s doing right now, you’d feel fucking horrible. 

“Could you just sign this please?” You say softly, trying to ignore the clear awkwardness you’ve helped contribute to. Fuck you shouldn’t have said that about names, you were just pissed at him being an asshole by the door. 

“No. He can tell me my name.” 

You inwardly grown. You love that she’s standing up for herself but you’d rather be back in the hallway whilst she did it. 

“Baby,” He smiles, moving towards her, “we just met last night!” 

“And yet I’ve had your dick in my mouth. I tend to like to know the names of people whose dick I’ve had in my mouth. And as your tongue has been in my ass hole, I presumed you’d know mine” 

Well shit. 

You decide to appraise a very odd looking stain on the ceiling and ignore whatever is unfolding in front of you. 

“I didn’t……..Did I?......Oh shit, yeah I remember…….NO!” He rushes but it’s too late. 

“You’ve already forgotten what happened between us?!!! You literally had your tongue down my throat a minute before she came in here.” 

Is there anywhere in this poor woman Seungcheol hasn’t had his tongue?!

You resist giving her a piece of your mind for the way she said “she” and continue assessing what you think might be a wine stain on the ceiling, though how it got there you don’t know. 

“Tell me my name and I’ll sign it.” 

You glance at Seungcheol, you can tell he’s panicking but you’ve never met either of them until about three minutes ago, so it’s not like you could help even if you wanted to. 

When you move over to the desk to get a pen, hoping Seunghceol may somehow remember this woman’s name in this lifetime, you spot her small card holder by her phone. A small card holder holding her drivers license. You hate having to help him, you’d much rather see him suffer but you do technically now have to have his best interests at heart. You don’t suppose your job with Woozi will last very long if you allow this woman to decimate the character of one of the band members. 

You glance round, noting she hasn’t moved and does still have her back to you, just as Seungcheol’s panicked eyes find you and he realises what you’re doing. 

Slowly, you pick up her wallet and move the license up a little. It feels less like a complete disregard for her privacy and not so big a break in girl code to not fully take it out of the card holder. 

“SORA” You mouth dramatically to Seungcheol whilst he tries to act natural. But him fucking squinting like he doesn’t understand isn’t helping. 

“SAW,” You mouth, mimicking sawing something in half, “RAAAAA.” 

This is fucking stupid and more than a little demeaning. But the big idiot still doesn’t get it. 

“SAAAAAAAAW,” You try to act out seeing something in the distance but she turns around and you have to suddenly act natural, holding her card holder behind your back. 

“Well?! MY NAME SEUNGCHEOL?!” She whips round back to him. 

“SORA.” You mouth in the biggest way you can. 

“So…..” You put your thumbs up and mouth it again, “So…ra…..Sora! You’re Sora! See! I never forget a name.” He grins.

You roll your eyes and quickly throw the card holder back just before she turns to check you’ve not helped him in some way. 

Fucking moran. He behaves like a chauvinistic pig and yet still somehow gets away with it. 

“Could you sign this?” You pear round her with the paper and pen in your hand. 

“Like I’d want to tell anyone about being anywhere near him.” She snarls, much to Seungcheol’s shock. 

He can’t honestly think she believes he remembered her name? He cannot be that arrogant to think she’d let what just happened slide and continue fawning over him like she no doubt was last night. 

She snatches the paper and pen from your hand and marches over to the desk to fill out her name and sign it. You follow Seungcheol’s gaze and note he’s not got a care in the world that he’s probably ruined poor Sora’s whole week. He’s too busy eyeing her ass hungrily, his busy tongue licking his lips like she's lunch. 

What. An. Asshole. 

“Here.” She slams the paper into your chest and throws the pen at your head. 

There is no need for that. And you’re ready to tell her so before Seungcheol pipes up. 

“Hey, leave your number. We come back to Osaka every tour y’know.” He leers at her as she quickly gets dressed. 

“Get fucked.” 

And with that she’s gone in a waft of floral perfume and anger. 

“Oh and!” She shouts from the doorway, “Your dick isn’t as big as you say it is!”

The door slams behind her and you both just stand in silence. 

“That is not true and the way she was waddling proves it.” 

“You’re disgusting.” You glare at him. 

“You shouldn’t speak to your boss like that,” he smirks, clearly not affected by a thing that's just happened. 

“You’re not my boss. Woozi is.” 

“He works for us.” He scoffs. 

“You’re signed to his and Jeonghan’s company. They own the company. My contract is with him specifically. I have nothing to do with you.” 

“I always like a hot nerd.” He creeps closer. 

“Well. I imagine most of the world’s population could be classed as a nerd if they’re comparing themselves to your intelligence.” 

You march out of the room. You don’t need a response from him, you’ve already made your mind up about him. Choi Seungcheol is a womanising lowlife who you never want to speak to again. You will never let him anywhere near you, not even if he was the last man on earth.

Tokyo 

“Did something happen between you and Seungcheol?” Woozi asks, somewhat apprehensively. 

You’re sitting in his suite with him and Jeonghan, all three of you with laptops out, trying to plan schedules for recording the new album and deciding which brand deals, out of the influx of offers that have come in recently, any of the guys should do. 

It’s only been five days since you started working for Woozi but you’ve found him to be the complete opposite of Seungcheol. In fact you’ve found that almost everyone on the staff is the opposite of Seungcheol. Every single person, including the other band members, have made you feel nothing but welcome, each of them coming over to introduce themselves and offer help if you need it. 

The same cannot be said for Seungcheol. 

He has been the most petulant idiot you’ve ever met. 

He purposefully asked you where a man called Jihoon was in front of everyone, having not uttered a word to you since the little debacle in his suite. When you told him you didn’t know who Jihoon was, he humiliated you in front of the whole band and the stylists by replying “oh right yeah, I forgot Woozi only tells people he likes his real name.”. Nobody laughed, they all just looked perplexed at what the hell was going on as you both glared at each other. They didn’t even realise you’d been introduced, let alone already seemingly enemies. 

You got him back though. Sort of. 

You’d had to travel between Osaka and Tokyo with Seungcheol and Woozi because Seungcheol was designing new bass drum skins and you’d be the one putting the order in. As Hoshi had already gone ahead for an event and the two other members tended to like to travel with their girlfriends, you’d ended up with the king of the boneheads. 

Just as you saw him taking a gulp of his drink out of the corner of your eye (and checked there were no cars behind you), you shouted out that there was a cat in the road. The driver slammed on and poor old Seungcheol ended up covered in coffee. 

It did somewhat backfire on you though. He had sent his bags in one of the other cars and because his sweater was covered in coffee, he decided it was probably best that he just not wear anything at all and opted to discard his sweater completely. You tried your best not to look at him, really you did, but you couldn’t help glancing at him. His knowing smirks and the constant need to catch yourself before you looked at him again, made that seven hour car journey feel like days. 

“No.” You glance at him before going back to your laptop, “Why?” 

“He’s just being……odd.” 

“Is he not odd all the time?” Jeonghan snorts at that and you feel a weird sense of pride that you’ve managed to fit in with them so quickly. 

“She’s got a point there.” 

“I guess. He just seems different.” 

You feel a weird twinge in your stomach at that, a slight panic that there’s something wrong or going on with him. Though you’re not sure why you care, he’s nothing but an ass to you. 

Maybe it’s because of what happened in his suite that first morning? He doesn’t like that you saw him being humiliated and now he’s being weird because of it. But he didn’t seem bothered by it at the time so why would he care after the fact. 

“There was a girl in his suite when you got me to take the NDA to him, maybe it’s that.” 

“_____,” Jeonghan smiles knowingly, “I’d be more surprised if there wasn’t. I don’t think he’s ever been alone in a hotel room in all the years we’ve been doing this.” 

That leaves a sour taste on your tongue but you know it has no right to be there. 

“She wasn’t exactly…..kind….to him when she left. He’d forgotten her name and she didn’t really like that,” 

“Ugh Seungcheol,” Woozi leans back in his seat, wiping his face with his hands, “when will he grow out of all this bullshit!” 

“I agree with you but that doesn’t explain what’s going on with those two,” Jeonghan points at you. 

“Well. Well. I might’ve called him disgusting?.” Your cheeks heat when neither of them give any sort of reaction. 

You jump slightly when laughter ripples through the air and they both beam at you. 

“I think you’ll fit in well here ______.” Woozi smiles whilst Jeonghan nods along. 

You smile and sheepishly say thank you but you can’t help feeling weird. Something isn’t sitting right with you at all and you’re certain it’s down to Seungcheol. It’s probably hatred and the fact his voice sounds like nails down a chalk board. Yeah…… That’ll be it. It’s definitely nothing else. 

One of the main reasons you were excited for this job was because you genuinely loved the band. You were a fan of their music, I fan of their style, you just loved everything about them. You didn’t even really have a favourite, they just all seemed like great guys who made amazing music and that was it. You’d told Woozi you liked the band during your interview and he said it was a good thing, it meant you’d care about your work and so far, that is proving to be true. 

You’re standing at the side of the stage watching as thousands of screaming fans sing every word back to Shadow as they perform. That would've been you, in total awe of them as they rocked out in front of tens of thousands of fans. 

But instead. You're standing glaring at the drummer whose arms glisten with sweat every time he strikes a cymbal and who you're desperately trying not to look at. But you can't help. He's gone too far. 

About twenty minutes before they were due to go on stage, the whole crew was gathering for a team talk. It was everyone. Stylists, security, fuck you're certain even the guys that print the lanyards were there. 

But one person that wasn't, was you. 

He was holding the door open for one of the makeup artists to go into the large shared dressing room. You knew he was going to do something, he'd seen you walking towards him. You know he had because he'd made a point of checking out the makeup artist's ass and then directly looked at you with a smarmy smile. 

You braced yourself for the door closing on you or him sticking out his foot to trip you up. But he took it a step further, a step too far. 

“Where are you going?" Seungcheol blocks off the doorway as he leans on it. 

"To the team meeting,” you grumble, rolling your eyes. Surely it's fucking obvious where you're going. 

"Why?” 

"Because it's a whole team meeting. Move out of the way please.” Adding the please is done begrudgingly but he is still a member of the band and so you can't just tell him to fuck off and kick him in the balls how you'd like to. 

"But you're not part of the team.” 

"What?” You frown, "Move please, I don't want to be late.” 

"You can't be late for something you're not invited to. You told me yourself, you work for Woozi. Everyone in here is part of team Shadow,” he declares like it's obvious, "guess you're not part of any team.” He sighs. 

Embarrassment creeps up your spine. You're certain Woozi would be expecting you to be there but short of pushing past him and making a scene, you're not entirely sure how to get round this. 

“You've had your joke," you mumble, “come on move, we'll be late." 

“I will be late, you mean. You're probably early to whatever plans you have for the evening. There's probably some private moment going on that you can shoe horn your way into and make ten times worse.” 

You stare at him. Both of you almost challenging the other to look away but the difference? He holds all the cards and he knows it. You don't win in this situation. If you tell him to fuck off, he'll say you've been unprofessional and no doubt tell Woozi and you lose the best job you've ever had. Or you don't tell him to fuck off and you have to walk away in embarrassment. 

"Is Woozi in there?” 

"I mean yeah, we're all one big family really.” He shrugs, “It'd be weird if he wasn't there.” He insisted, his smirk only getting more annoying. 

Part of you wants to punch him, to put this arrogant rock star in his place. But there's a weird feeling in your chest too, that you can't quite figure out what it means. 

He doesn't stop looking at you, his smirk never faltering. But you just pull your sweater over your hands and avert your eyes, pretending to look past him and like this isn't making you want to cry. 

“Bye then." You say quietly, sending him a false smile but still not looking him in the eye. 

You wander down the corridor to the side of the stage and hope you find something there that'll occupy you when the “one big family" all turn up to start the concert. At least then if Woozi asks where you were you can say you were caught up with something. 

Seungcheol watches you leave pretty pleased that he's got the upper hand. He'd been enjoying the little back and forth you guys had been having the past few days. And if he's honest, he wants to get you back for the other morning. You were fucking annoying and ever since he's had this need to get a rise out of you. 

But as he watches you walk off, he gets a weird feeling in his chest that unsettles him. His smirk leaves and his eyebrows inadvertently knit together. He got this feeling when you called him disgusting too, though he ignored it then and tried to put it down to his hangover. Add that to the leaping feeling he had in his stomach when something the driver said made you laugh, he's starting to get a little worried about all these unknown feelings he's having. 

This must be what hatred feels like. The sound of your laugh must physically cause him pain and the feelings in his chest are just pure annoyance when you're around. Yeah. That’ll be it. It's the only logical explanation. 

“You know we don't object to workplace relationships,” You jump a little, you hadn't realised Jeonghan was so close to you. 

"What do you mean?” You avert your eyes to him but quickly refocus on the band. 

"You and Cheol, you keep staring at each other and I think even Woozi's realised there's a tension there and he's normally so lost in schedules and shit, he doesn't realise anything.” 

"I don't stare.” You snap. 

"Whatever you say,” Jeonghan smirks, "I know he's got a reputation but he's one of the kindest guys you'll ever meet under all that swagger.” 

You wonder how much Seungcheol pays people to lie for him. You've got proof he's not a kind person, and you do not believe that he doesn't live up to that "reputation” Jeonghan is referring to. Both you and Sora can attest to that. 

"There's no tension. I'm just trying to do my job.” 

"Okie dokie.” Jeonghan smiles though you can tell he’s not convinced at all. "Oh! And we missed you at the staff meeting! You don't have to work so hard!.” 

You watch as Jeonghan glides away. It relieves a few of the worries you'd had about not being missed at the meeting, at least there seems to be people who are genuinely looking out for you. But it just makes you more pissed at the drummer who adverts his eyes the second you look back over to him. 

This can't all be because of that first day. He's taken an instant dislike to you and, to be honest, you feel exactly the same way. 

One thing is for sure. You won't let him win.

Bangkok 

And so for the next three weeks of the Asia leg of the tour, a battle ensues. You both happen to be at breakfast at the same time? You’re making sure that you take the last of the muesli he likes. He notices that you’re carrying a heavy bag? He’ll purposefully pick out another member of staff who is also carrying something and make a grand gesture of asking if they need help, right in front of your face. 

Everyone knew what was going on. It was like the both of you couldn’t hear a conversation going on with the other without passive aggressively butting in. 

“Do you want to try this hat for the magazine cover?” 

“Are you sure that would fit over his enormously oversized head?” You’d chide as the room erupted in laughter and Seungcheol glared at you through the mirror. 

Or. 

“______ seriously you’ve got me so organised I’m running out of things to worry about.” Woozi beamed at you. 

“Pretty easy to be so anal about shit when she’s got a permanent stick up her ass.” 

It was just an everyday part of your life now. Wake up, make sure Woozi has everything he needs and then go out of your way to piss off Seungcheol. His schedule seemed pretty much the same except where you organised Woozi, he played for thousands of fans and partied until the early hours. 

And it’s his partying, or rather the whole group partying, which is putting you in a situation you didn’t really want to be in right now. 

Seungcheol had used your dislike for partying when he was trying his best to embarrass you in front of everyone. The trouble for him was that you didn’t care what he thought about you in that respect. You’d never been one for huge crowds of drunk people, it just wasn’t for you. You loved socialising, you loved going out with friends for drinks or good food but being in a confined space with a bunch of sweaty drunk people? You’d really rather sit in a bath of ice. 

But this was the last night of the Asia tour. It was a big deal and even though you’d told Seungcheol to get fucked when he’d called you boring for not going, it turned out you weren’t going to get away with it so easily. Woozi made you promise you’d join them all for one drink at least and your best friend at home had made you promise you’d put yourself out there more just before you started this job. You didn’t need to make sure everything is ready for the next day or spend your time writing in your diary, or any of the other one hundred things you could think of doing to avoid situations you felt uncomfortable in. You just needed to be brave enough to actually go.

So with Woozi’s promise that you only had to stay for one drink and your best friend’s words whirring round your mind, you find yourself standing in front of the mirror in your room, not knowing whether you’re even dressed right. You know you can’t wear your usual sweaters or jeans but you didn’t want to seem too over dressed, too out of your comfort zone. 

You’d gone with a leather mini skirt which you didn’t even realise you’d packed, your good old bestie still looking out for you even when she’s not with you, and a tank top that felt too tight but you could work with it and it made your tits look great even if you do say so yourself. You hadn’t brought heels so your trusty doc martens would have to do. It isn’t something you’d wear to a club you suppose but drinking with a rock band? It works. Sort of. You think? 

“Fuck this get a grip _____. No one will even notice you’re there, one drink and then you can come back and pack.” You mumble to yourself as you fix your eyeliner in the mirror. “You’ve got this.” You fake a smile to yourself before you take a deep breath, grab your phone and head to the rooftop bar of the hotel. 

It wasn’t as bad as you thought, you’d had a drink with Dino’s girlfriend who has become a good friend in the month you’ve been on tour with them. And Woozi had made you join him in a dance but it felt very much like dancing with your dad and so you’d spent most of your time laughing with him whilst he showed you how to do the robot. 

You didn’t see Seungcheol. You’re not even sure why you were thinking of him. He was probably with some woman by now already and he wouldn’t want to see you anyway. You tell yourself your eyes scan the room every three minutes because you want to prove a point to him. You want to show him that you’re not as boring as he says you are. But why should you even care what he thinks? It’s probably just because your competitiveness has peaked in this month-long battle with Seungcheol, you just want to show that you won this little challenge. It’s not even really about proving a point to him. It’s about winning. 

You bid your goodbyes to Dino and his girlfriend as they run off giggling after informing you they’re going for a late night swim, and you head towards the elevator. 

“Hold the door please!” You run towards the closing door as a hand stops it and you throw yourself in. 

“Thank you,” you sigh before you realise who it is, “oh.” 

“_____?” Seungcheol saying your name makes you feel weird but it’s probably irritation. That’s the only thing that would explain the goosebumps that’ve erupted all over your body. 

Your eyes drift to the woman in his arm, one of her hands under his shirt, tickling his skin. You get the sudden urge to scratch this woman’s eyes out, a feeling of utter rage coming over you like a dark cloud but you bat it away. You don’t care who touches him. 

His eyes drift over you, his eyebrows knitting together but he snaps back to himself and holds his girl a little closer. 

“Does she work for you?” 

“Nah, she works for Woozi. A professional busy body.” 

You know he’s waiting for your reply but the sight of the woman still touching his skin has you mute. What the fuck is happening and why does it feel like those words he just uttered actually hurt? You’d been tearing shreds off each other for weeks and it hadn’t bothered you. The last time you’d truly felt upset by something he’d done was the staff meeting but you were over that. Now though it just felt like he was being mean for the sake of it and you were so confused by what you were feeling towards him and his “friend” that you can’t even muster a response. 

“You came then?” He smirks when he doesn’t get a response. 

“Oh you’ve been to the party? You didn’t feel like dressing up?” She says in the most sickly sweet way she can. 

Fuck you feel like you’re in school, the resident school bully deciding it’s your turn to feel their nastiness. 

You just glance at both of them and then look forward, willing the elevator to move quicker. 

“It’s no wonder she’s going back to her room alone,” you hear her whisper to Seungcheol, although you’re fairly certain she intended you to hear it. 

Sure you weren’t overly confident in your outfit but the longer the night went on, the more you felt happy in your own skin. Others at the party were dressed like you, you didn’t stand out. If anything it’s her that looks out of place, a sequin dress and sky high slingbacks making her look like a christmas tree. And yet her words are cutting as deep as a knife. 

Your bottom lip threatens to wobble but you stay strong. You won’t break in front of either of them. 

The elevator rings, your floor finally arriving and you rush out without sparing them another glance. 

You don’t see how Seungcheol moves like he wants to say something to you or how once you’re out of the elevator he suddenly distances himself from the woman he was with, much to her confusion. 

You just rush to your room, rub the makeup off your face in a shower that’s so hot it’s only a few degrees below actually burning your skin and spend an hour making sure you’ve packed everything you came with. Making sure the leather skirt is right at the bottom of the pile. Just the sight of it makes you want to melt away in a puddle of embarrassment. 

You’ve so many feelings fighting for supremacy that you don’t know which to focus on most. Sure you’re embarrassed but the thing that’s annoying you is why you hated that woman before she’d even insulted you. You had every reason to loathe her now she’d made you feel like the ugliest runt in the litter but before that you wanted to end her. The second you saw her hands on Seungcheol’s skin you wanted something horrible to happen to her and you can’t explain why. 

You don’t get much sleep after all that. Just toss and turn with her words ringing in your ears as images of her and Seungcheol laughing about how pathetic you are, as they fuck each other race through your mind. 

And what’s even worse. Things are going to get a whole lot more uncomfortable.

Hua Hin- Thailand 

“Ok what's wrong?" 

All four members of Shadow take up a table and four seats on the coach taking them to the Thai resort they'll spend a few days at before the South American leg of the tour begins. It wasn't the whole crew, just the members, girlfriends and managers. And you. At everyone's insistence other than, of course, Seungcheol. 

The four of them had been having a little song writing session as the coach would take four- five hours. But Seungcheol hadn't joined in with any of it, not even when they'd purposely rhymed the same word twice just to annoy him, knowing he hates repeating words when they can't think of a proper rhyming couplet. 

“Nothing." 

“She was that bad?" 

“Who?" 

“Whoever you took back to your room." 

“Oh." He wriggles in his seat, “nothing happened. I asked her to leave, I wasn't in the mood." 

His three friends stare at each other wide eyed. 

“You weren't in the mood?" Dino clarifies. 

“Are you not well?" Hoshi asks. 

“I'm fine! Can't a man just not be in the mood?" His eyes flick up the bus but then back down at the wordless notebook. 

They all turn to look where he just has, knowing looks on their faces when they face each other again. Because it's you. You're who Seungcheol has just glanced at unknowingly and it's you who's been the only woman they've ever seen get under Seungcheol's skin. 

They've seen it happening right in front of their own eyes. How both of you proclaim to hate each other and yet you both search for each other in every room you go in. You both spend each day seeking each other out even if it is to be complete idiots. 

"How do you know when you've gone too far?” 

"What do you mean?” 

"Like when banter becomes bullying?” 

The three exchange looks and Dino kicks Mingyu under the table, silently telling him to take the lead. 

“What makes you ask that?" 

Seungcheol doesn't look up from the paper, instead he decides to just draw little flowers on the pages. But he needs to figure out what's going on, he can't keep feeling all these feelings every day. 

“Last night," he sighs, “that girl, she was really mean to _____. Basically called her ugly." 

“That's fucked up." 

“But…..is it…..is it fucked up that I didn't stick up for her?" 

“Yeah." 

“Dude what the fuck!" Hoshi kicks Dino. 

“What?! I'm just saying if you hear someone say that to anyone unprovoked then you should stick up for them. Unless it's some like seven foot dude with an axe." 

“Why are you and _____ the way you are?" 

“What?" Seungcheol’s eyes snap to Mingyu. 

“She's kind, she's funny, she's a bit shy, sure but she's part of the team. Why are you two the way you are?" 

“We're not like anything. Just normal." 

“We all know that's not true Cheol. There's something about her. And you know it." 

“I can't stand her." 

“Cheol, you look for her in every room apart from when you're partying because you know she's not there." 

“That's because I know she's going to pull some bullshit!" He shouts but lowers his voice when Woozi and Jeonghan turn around, luckily you have your headphones on and are deep in some game on your switch. 

"You've been turning up early to soundcheck then you know you can speak to her or annoy her at least.” 

"I've decided to be more professional,” he shrugs. 

"You're drawing the exact flower she has on her necklace.” 

All four of them look down at the piece of paper. Shit. It is the same flower that you have on a gold chain. You wear it every day, a small golden charm on the necklace, it was a gift from your parents when you graduated. Seungcheol knows that because he heard you tell Jeonghan when he asked about it, he remembers wanting to punch Jeonghan on the nose for daring to take an interest in you. He wanted to ask about it. Not Jeonghan. 

"That's not……I'm not…. Fuck I don't know what to do! I feel weird whenever she's around and I spend most of my time counting down the hours until it's time to meet up with everyone because I want to see her. And taunting her is the only way I think she'll talk to me. Because someone like her isn't going to be interested in me! Fuck the first day we met was because she came to my room and saw exactly how I behave! And I feel like my heart is physically breaking whenever she laughs and jokes with someone else because I want to do that. I want to make her laugh. And she looked so fucking pretty last night but I didn't think she’d come to the party! And I didn't know that woman would be such a bitch to her! And she looked so fucking sad and I did nothing. I'm having all these feelings and I don't know what they are or how to deal with them! I don't even like partying anymore! You know, the other day all I could think about was how much I wanted to just sit with her and hold her and talk to her! I've never just wanted to sit and talk to a woman!”  

He's gasping for breath by the time he's finished. All of them including Woozi and Jeonghan and Dino and Mingyu's girlfriends are looking at him in shock. Thankfully you're still blissfully unaware of the mini breakdown Seungcheol has just had at the back of the coach.  

"You need to tell her.” Dino's girlfriend chimes in kindly. "Not telling her will just make a huge mess.” She looks knowingly at Dino who just sends everyone an embarrassed smile. Everyone knows the chaos that went on between them on the last tour. 

"It's gone too far. Even if it hadn't, it definitely has now. She looked so fucking sad when she left the elevator last night. She isn't going to trust my intentions is she?!” 

"She will.” Mingyu nods. 

"Would you?” Seungcheol asks their girlfriends who are on the table next to them. 

"Well,” they look at each other. "Probably not? But!” Mingyu's girlfriend rushes to say, "I think you need to show her who you really are. Don't just go in with some big confession. She needs to know the real you, the one we all know. Not this idiot who knocked a drink all over her." 

“She did that to me first!" 

“Grow up." She deadpans as Mingyu giggles behind him. 

“How do I show her! I doubt she'll even talk to me." 

"You'll think of something.” 

"Yeah I doubt it," Seungcheol pouts, slamming his pen on the notebook. “I even downloaded a list of the best pickup lines last week when I'd convinced myself to do something. But I'm not gonna be one of those sad acts that creep up on women at bars with some awful line to be laughed at." 

“We're here!" Your voice breaks through the tension as you excitedly look through the windscreen and throw your headphones off your head. 

“Fucking great." Seungcheol grabs his bag and storms up the coach. 

“He’ll sort this out, won't he?" 

“I hope so. They’d make a cute couple and I'm never wrong, am I baby?" Mingyu's girlfriend taps his chest to back her up. 

“Never. She clocked you two the day you met." He smiles at Dino. 

“We weren't obvious!" 

“Whatever you say dude."

They all hurl themselves off the coach, not even noticing just how beautiful the resort is that Jeonghan found because they're all so lost in watching the way you try to avoid Seungcheol and how he can't seem to keep his eyes off you. That is apart from Mingyu who is happily accepting the snacks being offered by the resort staff as they all enter the main building.

“_____! We thought you'd gotten lost!" 

You smile at them as you sit down but in reality you're questioning everything. You didn't plan for this break and yes you've got summer clothes with you and bikinis, but you didn't really plan to be at a five star Thai resort. And after last night your usually high confidence was wavering. 

"I love your dress,” Mingyu's girlfriend says to you quietly as you sit between her and, sadly, Seungcheol, at the long ornately decorated table that's been set up by the golden beach. 

"Thank you. I didn't know we'd be coming somewhere like this. I think I'll need to check out the stores in the village tomorrow.” 

"Let me know when you go! We could go, all the girls together.” 

"I'd like that,” you smile. And for the first time today, it's a genuine one. 

She goes back to talking to Woozi about something and everyone else seems to be preoccupied too, so that just leaves you and Seungcheol. You fiddle with your thumbs before your eyes land on the wine bottle. But before you can even reach for it, Seungcheol grabs it. Does he have to do this? Does he have to carry it on even…..now…. What? 

“Why have you done that?" 

“You didn't have a drink." 

“But I could pour one for myself." 

“Well I needed a top up so I thought I'd do yours too." 

“Why?" 

“Why not?" 

You don't answer, just watch him and wait for him to take a sip of his wine. 

“What are you looking at?" 

“I want to see you drink it first. Make sure it's not poisoned or some shit." 

“You know what?" He turns to you like he's going to fire something back, “n-never mind." He takes a sip of his wine and goes back to staring into the distance. 

Well. That's new. Very new. Perhaps he's worn out from all the fucking last night and can't be bothered with you anymore. But the idea of him not even bothering with your usual banter leaves you feeling hollow. 

The meal passes in a cloud of laughter but you can't help feeling weird. Seungcheol doesn't say any shitty comments, he doesn't purposefully knock your food off the table, it's all very…..cordial? It's unsettling if anything. 

“Enjoy your bats!" Woozi laughs as he waves you off. 

“You can still always come with me? It's famous y’know!" 

“Sure it is," he beams at you, “I think I'll spend the whole evening by the pool." 

“Fair enough," you giggle as you walk back to your room. 

The second you found out where you were going, you were online looking for things to do. You loved making sure you'd seen the sights, the pool is great and everything but what if you never come here again? Every pool more or less looks the same, the sights don't. 

And it would work two fold, if they all broke off into couples or little groups, you had things to do so you wouldn't feel lonely. 

Amazingly, none of them felt like coming to see the bats of Na Yang cave leave for hunting this evening. But according to Trip Adviser it was well worth seeing. Each night thousands of bats leave the cave and even though you don't like bats in the slightest, it sounds like quite the sight to behold. 

You quickly change into shorts, t-shirt and sneakers, grab your camera that you knew would come in handy at some point and rush off to the main hotel building, where apparently a mini bus will pick you up to take you to the bats. 

Just as you're settling into your seat, the mini bus being a lot more packed than you thought it would be, the driver stops. 

“Sorry! Sorry! Thanks for waiting!" 

"No problem,” the driver says kindly. 

What the fuck is he doing here? You presumed he'd be heading out to find some bar or club later tonight. Does he want to upset you that much that he's willing to even ruin your excursion? 

"There's one seat left, you're lucky!” 

Well. That's where the driver is wrong. There's nothing lucky about the last seat available being next to you. You try not to look at his thighs as he sits down next to you. You try not to look at him at all. But his thighs touch yours on the crowded mini bus and you feel like you've been electrocuted. 

"Do you like bats?” He says after about twenty minutes of silence. 

"Not really.” 

"Then why are you going?” He frowns. 

“Because it's a once in a lifetime thing and you don't know if you'll ever come back here again." 

He just nods and you go back to sitting in silence, though neither of you move your thighs away from each other. 

“Just a few more minutes!” 

Thank god for that. The almost 45 minute drive had felt like a decade of your life had been taken away from you. 

“So is it like a couple of thousand bats?" 

“You don't know?" 

“No," he looks confused, “why should I know?" 

“Well surely this is something you wanted to see. If not, why are you here? I doubt there's many suitors at a bat cave." 

“Suitors," he grins, “damn you're right grandma, there probably isn't." 

You fight off a smile. This is just him being his usual annoying self, he was bound to stumble on a funny comeback eventually. 

“There's two million bats." You shew him off the bus now you've finally parked up. 

“TWO MILLION?!" He spins round and bangs into you, he's so close to you that you can smell his minty breath. He brushed his teeth for the bats? "I-I mean I knew that. It's just when you actually hear it that it shocks you all over again.” 

"Ok?” You say slowly. 

Neither of you move. Has he always had such pretty eyes? You knew he had pretty lips, you'd thought about his pretty lips a lot. They usually came up as a suggestion after you'd searched for his big, strong, meaty……fuck you need to stop thinking about his arms. It's a gateway drug to fantasising about him like you used to before you knew he was a giant dickhead. 

“Come on lover birds! The bats won't wait for romance!" 

You both jump away from each other, both clearly embarrassed at what the driver has just said. 

“The bats," you point and set off for the cave, following the other bat fanatics. 

“Woah," Seungcheol says as he looks up at the mountain. "The caves at the top?” 

"Yeah, they fly out each night. Why are you here if you don't know this?” 

"I was talking to the girl at reception and she suggested it.” 

"Oh.” Of course it's to do with a girl.

Seungcheol cringes to himself, he didn't mean that. He just panicked and needed a plausible reason for why he's suddenly turned up here. Truthfully he's only here because he heard you telling Woozi about it. He thought it'd be a way to start afresh, to show you he's not what you think he is. Or he doesn't want to be like that anymore at least. But he's already fucked it up. 

“Not long now! It can look a bit daunting but it's such a sight to behold!" 

You quickly get your camera ready with all the other tourists. 

“Do you want me to take it?" 

“Why?" 

“Then you can see it with your own eyes?" 

Why is he being so nice? 

“O-ok. Thank you,” you take the camera strap off from over your head and hand him your camera, “it's just that button, I've already set it up before the mini bus came." 

“Cool." He nods as his fingers graze yours. 

“Yeah." 

“Here they come everyone!!" 

You both turn to face the cave just as the biggest swarm of something you've ever seen in your life leaves the cave. It's like a never ending line. You knew two million bats would be a lot but this is like something from another world. Like how the world looked before humans ruined it and animals could just do as they pleased. 

"Oh my god,” you whisper to yourself as you watch the bats in awe. 

Seungcheol isn't watching the bats. He doesn't give a fuck about the bats. He got the photo straight away and then a far better sight caught his eye. Your whole face lit up in wonder as you stared at the sky in astonishment. He doesn't even realise he's doing it, he just moves on autopilot and turns the camera to you. You're meant to savour the most beautiful views and in his opinion, the sight in front of him is one of the most stunning he's seen. 

"So they'll hunt now until 6am tomorrow morning! Unless you've all brought your tents, I'll give you some time to explore the area and then we'll meet back at the bus? Say in twenty minutes?" 

“Can I have that?" 

“Oh!" Seungcheol hands you your camera, “sorry, didn't realise I still had it." 

“Did you get the picture?" 

He panics. He can't let you see the photo he's taken of you. Not whilst he's still here anyway. 

“I did!" 

“Great," you take his word for it and put the camera back down against your chest now the strap is back round your neck. 

“What do we do now?" 

“I was just going to grab a coffee from the stall and take in the view.” You start walking, presuming he'll want to do his own thing. 

"Cool.” He follows you. 

Why is he following you? Surely he doesn't want to spend time with you? 

When he pays for your coffee before you can get your card out, you start to feel like something truly odd is going on. He hasn't said a bad word to you, other than the grandma comment, and he's being weirdly timid. 

"They should have souvenirs." You grumble more to yourself than Seungcheol as you wait for everyone to get back to the minibus. 

“Yeah you'd think they'd sell little bat toys." 

“Are you making fun of me?" You'd been waiting for this, you knew he couldn't last this long without being an ass. 

“No! My mom likes trinkets and shit, I like getting her something from everywhere we've been. It's normally just a magnet from the stadium or something. I don't really visit places when we have breaks.” 

"I can imagine.” You know what he's implying. You know how he spends his time normally. 

"I’m pleased we saw this. It's been cool.” You hate how your heart leaps when he says “we". He'd planned this because some girl told him to, he's probably only done it then he thinks he gets her as a reward. It's got nothing to do with you at all. 

“Hey you could always have a copy of the picture if you'd like, get a frame or something from the market and put it in there. Like a homemade souvenir." 

“I'd like that." His eyes find yours again and once again you can't look away. “She'd like it too." He smiles and you're certain your heart has fully stopped working.

He's never smiled at you. He's smirked, he's sent you his evil grin, but never the smile he normally reserves for everyone but you. 

“No problem." You smile back, trying to look anywhere but at him then you don't start giggling. 

You don't speak much on the way back to the hotel, he heads off to find Hoshi at the bar and you head back to your room. 

Once you're washed and ready for bed, you make sure you transfer the photos from your camera. One trip to Greece where you didn't back it up once and lost everything, was enough to make sure you never made that mistake again. 

Seungcheol only managed to take two photos but as long as there's one there, you can keep your promise to help him with the souvenir for his mom. 

You check them both, the first one is amazing, exactly the right shot to show what an insane sight it was to witness. But the second one stops you in your tracks. He took this? He took this of you? The setting sun illuminates your face better than any highlighter ever has and the look on your face……well in the words of Keira Knightly, “I look quite pretty.". 

Something about him taking that photo makes you almost giddy. But you shouldn't read into you, he's just taken it by mistake probably. You cannot let yourself think this means something. He's Seungcheol. He hates you. And you hate him. 

"Does that pool have a massive floaty in it?” 

“It's probably for kids." Woozi dismisses you. 

“But do we know if it's for kids?" 

“Why?" He smirks at you over his fruit. 

It's just a few of you this morning. The two couples have gone on a day trip and you don't really have plans until the night market you want to check out later. And the huge inflatable assault course is looking more than appealing. 

“I'm just asking." You shrug. 

“They've got a climbing wall you know, that you can jump off into the pool." Seungcheol adds in. 

“REALLY? I mean…….really?" You say a bit more quietly, your cheeks heating. 

"We should go on them. Jeonghan booked out this whole resort so there's no kids here or anything.”  

You didn't know that. That changes things a whole lot more. You won't have to swat children into the pool when they get in your way on the climbing wall. 

"Do we really have to do that? It's meant to be relaxing?” Jeonghan sighs, fanning himself in the largest sunglasses you've ever seen. 

"When else do you get a whole water bouncy castle for yourself?” Seungcheol adds in. 

Fuck you wish he'd go and sit at another table. 

It's not even because he's annoying for once. 

You've never seen someone eat papaya the way he's doing. He's fucking devouring it and you've been trying your best to not just sit and watch. It's bordering on obscene as he licks and eats half a papaya in front of you all and you try your best to focus on the inflatables and not clenching your thighs together. 

The rest of them don't seem to care but you can't help letting your mind wander. His tongue looks like it knows exactly what it's doing and the juice that trickles down his chin could only be improved if it was your juice dribbling down his chin. 

"I thought you were coming to the spa with me?” 

You drag your eyes away from Seungcheol eating out the papaya and will yourself to stop imagining how much you'd enjoy him eating you out. 

“Jeonghan, we might not come here again. It's an empty resort with a fucking sick pool and shit. You go to the spa," 

Did he? He can't have just said that because that would insinuate that he actually listened to you when you said the bat cave was a once in a lifetime opportunity. That you should make the most of things whilst you're here. 

“I'll come to the spa with you. They can act like children in the pool." Woozi pulls his newspaper down like a dad deciding his kids’ itineraries. 

“Great!" Hoshi grins at you all. 

“There's even this bubble pool apparently, I don't know what it does but there's a water slide with a trampoline in the pool." You excitedly tell Seungcheol, somehow not remembering he's your sworn mortal enemy. 

Hoshi, Jeonghan and Woozi share knowing looks when Seungcheol says how cool it sounds and for the first time, they see you having a normal conversation. 

“I'm going to go get changed," you finish your orange juice and rush from the table, “I'll be back! Don't bounce without me!!" 

“It's going well then?" 

“What is?" Seungcheol frowns as he finishes his breakfast. 

“That was almost pleasant," Woozi chimes. 

“She's just excited about the water trampoline thing. I've told you, I've lost any chance I had.” 

"Where did you go last night?” Jeonghan changes the subject. 

"Oh…….nowhere,” Seungcheol dismisses them. 

"He followed _____ to the bats. Grinning like a mad man when he found me in the bar and didn't even stare at the woman behind the bar's ass.” 

“Fuck me." Woozi puts down his paper looking shocked. 

“Shut up. I'm going to change." 

He struts off, mentally deciding which of his swim shorts might make you forget all of his past behaviour and jump into his waiting arms. 

"I'm going to be the best man when they get married.” 

"Soonyoung. You've said that about all three of them. You can't be the best man for all three. You'll all need to rotate it." 

“Whatever." 

Ten minutes later and you're rushing to the pool, nothing but a baggy t-shirt covering your bikini clad body, your sandals in your hands and your hair tied up in a high pony tail. You didn't even have time to question whether it'd be awkward to be around Seungcheol, you just wanted to have fun, to forget any worries you had before today and take advantage of the insane surroundings you find yourself in. 

You don't think twice, just rush to the pool, leave your phone on the pool chair, take your t-shirt off and do a pretty impressive, olympic level dive bomb into the pool. 

Sure you're having a great time. But did you have any concern for Seungcheol's poor nerves? He hadn't even had a chance to make it to the pool and let you know he's there, before you did some sort of Baywatch shit and whipped your clothes off. He doesn't know whether to be endeared by how excited you are at the prospect of inflatable assault courses or rush off to the bathroom before you spot him, to sort out the slight situation that’s stirring in his pants. 

“I'd sort that out dude before you speak to her." Soonyoung pats his shoulder as he struts towards the pool.

“I think you've just done that creeping up on people. Don't be fucking weird." He catches Soonyoung up. 

“_____! You could've waited!" Soonyoung jokes. 

“Sorry! Get it in Hoshi! The water is literally so perfect!" You paddle backwards and beam at them both. 

“I've told you, call me Soonyoung." 

“You've literally never said that to me." You giggle, making Seungcheol's heart flutter and he suddenly gets the urge to headbutt Soonyoung. 

“Well I am now. Once you've been on a trampoline in a pool together, you're friends for life." 

“Fair enough," you turn away and start swimming whilst you wait for them. 

“Sorry." 

“What for?" Seungcheol asks as he gets in the pool, opting for the steps instead of your dive bomb method. 

“You looked like you wanted to slap me when she giggled. I promise to only make her miserable from now on." 

“I think I've made that my job," Seungcheol watches as you check out the inflatable as you swim past it, “and it was a headbutt." 

You can't remember when you last laughed so much. You've done the assault course five times, climbed the climbing wall and thrown yourself into the pool more times than you can count and the trampoline was a revelation. 

"This isn't what I thought a bubble pool would be.” 

"What were you expecting?” 

"Well not one big bubble. I thought it'd be lots of little bubbles.” You look around with your hands on your hips as you stare at the water spraying out of the top of the large mountain you find yourself atop of. 

“That's a jacuzzi." Seungcheol dead pans. 

“Oh yeah," you chuckle. “Do we just throw ourselves off it?" 

“Well we've thrown ourselves off everything else." 

"Come on then,” 

"Hey _____?” He asks but you've just bent your legs to throw yourself down the huge bubble and sort of wobble onto your ass. "Be careful!” 

He grabs you but any worry he had disappears when you fall on him in a fit of laughter at the way you've nearly bounced down the bubble. 

"L-lucky this is bouncy,” you giggle as you sit up between his legs, his arms still around you. "Oh! Sorry!”

You try to move back but he keeps you there. 

"Wait. I wanted to say something to you if that's ok?" 

“Er…..sure?" You glance at his hands on your waist and he pulls them away instantly. 

“Ok so I don't know how to say this." He scratches his neck, looking more than a little nervous, “can we start again?" 

“We've not bounced off the bubble yet, we can't do it again if we've not done it." 

“Not the bubble," he frowns, “us. I-I mean can we drop whatever we had going on and start again? I'm not normally a complete asshole to people, I know I can be arrogant and shit but I'm not normally like this with staff or anyone in general. And…..I've really enjoyed spending time with you, I'd like to spend more time with you I think." 

You feel like someones just burst the fucking bubble you're so shocked. 

"But you hate me.” 

"I don't hate you. I know you hate me but…..” 

"I don't hate you.” You interrupt.

You both sit still for a while just gazing at each other, the water fountain at the top of the bubble landing just past you and making it seem like you two are in your own little bubble on top of the actual bubble. 

"Soooo you think we could start again?” 

You wait an appropriate amount of time because you don't want to come off as desperate and say it straight away. But you'd be lying if you said you're not absolutely thrilled by this little development. This whole day has been insanely fun and you've spent the entire time with Seungcheol, joking and talking about water parks you'd been to as kids. It felt natural, you seemed to have so much in common that you didn't realise and you'd barely even had the chance to drool over his abs and back because everything was so exciting. 

"I think so.” You nod, smiling from ear to ear but trying to keep it cool. 

"I'm sorry for how I acted.” 

"No I'm sorry, I was no better,”

"Yeah but….” 

"Seungcheol,” you saying his name shuts him up straight away, "we said we'd start again. Let's just agree we're sorry and move on.” 

"You're sure?" 

“Mm-mm," you hum. 

“Come on, Soonyoung will be wondering…..wait where is Soonyoung?" 

“I haven't seen him since the third time we did the assault course," you look out onto the nearby pool that is adjacent to your huge bubble. “Wait," you snort, “he's asleep on that pool chair." 

“Thank fuck we've not actually lost him, I didn't even realise he'd gone.” 

"Me neither,"

You're drawn to his eyes again, both of you perched on the bubble, you still sitting between his legs and the warm afternoon sun shining down on you. 

"Did you say at breakfast you were going to the night market?” Seungcheol asks when a bang in the distance breaks the moment yet amazingly doesn't wake Soonyoung.

He stands up and then helps you up. Although you'd very much like to stay between his legs for the rest of the day in all honesty. 

"Yeah, they have all sorts of local food vendors and things apparently and all of the seafood you can imagine. Mingyu said they were going and he knew I wanted to go too, so we're all going together. You should come.” 

Shit. Is that too forward? He said he wanted to start again, he didn't say he wanted to spend this whole break with you. Which so far is what's happened. 

"I love seafood.” 

"Is that a yes?” You squint at him, trying not to smile. 

"Yeah, I'd like to go with you….I-I mean with you all," 

“Great," you smile, “now. Are we ready to bounce?" 

“Well I'm not sure, do you bounce down it in little bounces or one big bounce?" You both stare down the huge bubbly lump as water lands on your heads. 

“I don't really know bubble pool etiquette. Let's just jump and see what happens?" You hold your hand out for his. 

He stares for a second and then takes your hand, your fingers intertwined and both of your hearts hammering in your throats. 

“Ready?" 

“Absolutely." He squeezes your hand. 

“You look nice." 

You glance behind you, presuming Seungcheol is talking to someone else. 

“Me?" You point to yourself, you're just in a little sundress and Birkenstocks. 

“Who else would I be talking to, I'm walking with you." 

“You could've been talking to Mingyu," you shrug. 

“I told him he looked nice before we left the resort." 

“He always struck me as needy." You joke, enjoying that smile again you hadn't really seen before yesterday. 

You're all walking to the night market, it isn't a particularly long walk and it seemed pointless to get a taxi. As you're with the two couples, you've ended up walking with Seungcheol at the back of the group. 

"I’m sorry about what that girl said to you.” 

Your body tenses as you stop walking. 

"What?” 

"I'm sorry about what she said to you. I should've said something in the elevator, it was cruel and entirely uncalled for. I think you looked really good, better than good, sex….. really great!” 

"You don't have to apologise for your one night stands.” You start walking, not really wanting to talk about one of his many women. 

"I didn't sleep with her!” 

You all stop walking now, you're certain he didn't mean to say it that loud but to their credit, the others all keep walking and ignore what they just heard. 

“You didn't?" 

“No. I told her to leave before we got out of the elevator." 

Something about that makes you hope a little more than you had been doing. You can't be certain he didn't sleep with her because of you but it certainly seems that way. 

"Thanks for telling me? I guess," 

“I just wanted you to know, not that you should care if I think you look good. But you were upset and I wanted you to know," 

“Thank you," you walk a little closer, your arms occasionally brushing as you navigate the tiny streets to the night market. 

The night market, when you get to it, is packed. Somehow you'd manage to forget you're with the world's biggest rock band but now every so often, people do a double take. To their credit they keep their distance and leave you all to enjoy yourselves but more than once you see women checking Seungcheol out. They're probably looking at the Dino and Mingyu too but you couldn't give a fuck about that. 

Every one of these women is the enemy. Every one of them could end between the legs you were between a couple of hours ago. Fuck what the hell is wrong with you? He asked to start fresh and not take chunks out of each other, that's it, nothing more. You don't have a claim over him. 

“What do you want to try first?" 

“Oh well….." 

“SHRIMP!" Mingyu marches off. 

“What happened to democracy?" His girlfriend watches him disappear. 

“I could eat shrimp." 

“Me too!"

“Cheol you don't like…..” 

"I love shrimp! Come on before he eats it all.” 

You wander off after him, feeling a thrill when you note he's waited for you before he followed Mingyu. He didn't wait for the others, just you. Jesus get a grip woman!

"He's so embarrassing when he's down bad.” Dino laughs. 

"What would you class as down bad Chan? Stealing hotel room service carts?” Mingyu's girlfriend snickers as she walks off. 

"I didn't steal them!” He corrects her. 

"They know you didn't baby,” his girlfriend soothes, "but you did pay someone so you could use it, so it is possibly worse.” 

"It worked didn't it!” 

"And sadly I think that makes me as weird as you.” 

"Oh my god, that's insane,” you stare at the dish in front of you. 

"It's good right! We had it last time we were in Thailand,” 

You're sharing mango sticky rice with Seungcheol having stuffed your face with so much seafood you're surprised you could then fit in the massaman curry or the pad kra pao. 

"I can't believe they're sold out of rice balls, they're like sweet they're so fucking good.” 

You've had a drink and you're so full of food that all you've really focused on in that sentence are sweet and balls. Fuck what you wouldn't give to suck on…….

“______?" You snap your eyes to him, “did you want to try the mangosteen?" 

"Oh! No, I think I'll stick with my sticky balls…..I-I mean your sticky balls…..I MEAN the mango sticky rice.” 

You don't look at him, just stick your spoon in the rice and shove a load in your mouth, hoping he'll forget your little slip up. 

"_____, there's some stalls over there and these boring fucks don't want to come with me. Will you?” 

"Fucking rude,” 

"Don't be brat Mingyu.” His girlfriend reprimands him. 

His ears go pink but you're certain Mingyu likes being told off, he keeps going out of his way to piss her off like he's banking on something when they get back to the resort. 

“I'll come with you!" You smile, you did want to check out the souvenirs and local crafts. 

“I knew you wouldn't let me down." 

You both walk through the stalls taking in all the handmade crafts and little sweet treats but there's one specific thing you're looking for. You talk each other into buying things that remind you of the trip and out of shit you'd never use. Giggle about little things the guys have done and joke that Chan’s girlfriend will be going insane stuck with the three of them. And that's when you spot it, what you've been looking for, whilst you're in a huge queue for a necklace for Mingyu. 

“Hey I'll be back in a sec, I just want to buy something." 

“Sure, it's not like I'm moving very fast," 

“How much for the photo frame?" You ask the old lady on the stall that caught your eye.  

"2000.” 

Shit. You know that's not really that much, they just use large numbers in baht but it is still a little more than you were expecting. 

“1800?" 

“2100." You frown at the woman. What a crafty business woman you've stumbled on. 

“1900?" 

“2000." 

Well. You've got her down from 2100 you suppose. 

“Deal." 

She doesn't offer to wrap it, just shoves the simple bamboo frame in a plastic bag which you're certain has been used one hundred times already and launches it at you. 

“Thanks then." You glare at her. 

You stop in your tracks as you turn round to head back to the queue. That same feeling of wanting to scratch someone's eyes out rearing its ugly head because it's him. Seungcheol. With a woman in his arms just by the table you were all just sitting at. 

Why did you think it meant something more than just not being awful to each other? Of course he doesn't like you, he just told you that you looked nice because he felt bad about the other night. He doesn't want you, he doesn't think about you that way, you can tell that much by the way his hands are on the woman's waist, much like they were on yours earlier. 

Embarrassment floods you again, a feeling pretty similar to how you felt in the elevator but this time it's entirely your own fault. You're the idiot that got your hopes up. You're the idiot that had started to wonder if there was something there. You're the idiot who more or less told him you wanted to suck his balls. Christ you want the ground to swallow you up. He must be regretting ever offering to call a truce. He’ll probably have Woozi fire you for sexual harassment. 

You can't face him. You won't. 

“I'm going to head back," you rush once you're back at the queue. 

“Why? Is everything ok?" 

“Yeah, just feeling a bit sick. A few too many shrimp I think, or too much spicy food." 

“I'll get one of the guys to walk you back! Just let me get this necklace." 

“No, it's fine. Seriously, it's totally ok. I'm just going to get a taxi and head to bed." 

“Are you sure?" She asks, nothing but concern in her voice. 

“Yeah, probably shouldn't have done all that jumping off water bubbles before all that food!" You joke as you walk off, though it's entirely fake. 

"Message me when you're back at the hotel!” She calls after you but you just give her a thumbs up and rush to find a taxi. 

Maybe you could book a flight and be gone by the morning. Anything is better than dealing with the horrifying amount of feelings currently weighing you down.

Seungcheol is pissed. In every sense of the world. 

You left. You just upped and left and didn't even bother saying goodbye. He believed the whole "she's not feeling well and she's just going to bed” bullshit when he was only six beers into the evening. But now he's considerably past that and he doesn't believe a single word of it. You'd come and tell everyone surely, you wouldn't just leave. 

He wanted to woo you. He wanted to make sure you knew he was sorry. He wanted to tell you that he loved you more than anything and everything in this world. 

Well. 

Maybe not that last one but he definitely does like you. He was sure of that on the big bubble. The fact he only looked at your tits bouncing on the bubble once only proved that point further. He's down bad and you've just sauntered off into the sunset with his heart in your evil hold. 

So he's decided he's going to tell you. Just as soon as he gets back to his room and throws up. He's going to put you in your place and tell you just what you're missing out on. He's Choi Seungcheol for fucks sake, women throw their panties at him at every concert. He won't be ignored by a woman who’s lured him in with her bouncing bubble and then dropped him like he was shit on her shoe. 

He'd hammered on Woozi's door, demanding he give Seungcheol your number. Woozi didn't question it, he doesn't want to get involved in whatever the hell is happening and the sooner he could get back to bed, the better. 

So Seungcheol lies on his bed, his phone to his ear and ready to give you a piece of his mind. 

You don't answer though. 

Who doesn't answer the phone at 4am?! He could be dying. He could be already dead. Fuck, you really don't care about him at all do you? 

He hears the bleep ready to leave a message and suddenly he's lost all concept of what to say. 

“Hello? ______ it's me. It's Cheol. I mean Seungcheol. It's me, Choi Seungcheol of the band Shadow," this isn't fucking MTV, he cringes to himself, “I want a word with you young lady!!" Well now he just sounds like his dad. 

He hangs up. Starts anew on the beep. 

“Hello ______, it's me Seungcheol. You've…….you've…….b-broken my heart,” he sobs. 

And sobs. And sobs. Until eventually the phone falls from his hand and he somehow manages to hang up. 

Twenty minutes later and he's pissed again. 

He dials your number and waits for the beep. 

“You've got some nerve, you know that _____. You lure men in and then break their hearts! It's wicked! You harlot! You floosy! You crone! You….you……I'm gonna be sick again.” He hangs up and runs to the bathroom. 

Right, he stretches his neck and gears up to call again. 

He hears the beep and it's like his world stops on its axis. 

“I think I really liked you _____. Or like you. I don't know. You barged your way into my room that day and made a fool of me and ever since I've needed all of your attention," he burps down the phone, the beer still very much making itself known, “I know I'm a man whore. I know I'm arrogant. But I love my mom y’know? I love my parents. And I love my friends. And I give money to baby elephants, they need our help _____ and I'm doing my best for them I swear. I will save every last baby elephant if I can! They can all come stay at my place!" 

He holds back another sob at the thought of the tiny baby elephants. 

“But I can be better. That skirt looked so good on you and that elephant. What? No. Not the elephant, that woman had no right saying what she did. Such a fucking nice little leather skirt, I could really just……” his voice trails off as he thinks about how pretty the skirt would look around your waist with the added feature of his head between your thighs. 

"But you don't like me. Not how I like you. I've been too mean. But in my defense,” he leans to the side, "argh! Sorry! Nearly fell off the bed. In my defense you were too. You called me disgusting and my tummy felt all weird. Feels weird now to be honest…..” 

He hangs up again and rushes off to be sick. 

Comes back and waits for the beep. 

"It's me again. Seungcheol. You know how I know I like you? I don't even like shrimp," he burps again and grimaces at the idea of eating shrimp. “And some girl fell on me earlier and I didn't even want to fuck her. Just made sure she was ok and sent her on her way. I don't think she really fell," he whispers down the phone, like he's telling you a secret, “I think she wanted me. But I just want you. But I can't have you. And I respect that. So this is goodbye. Please try not to cry. But together we could fly?" He knits his brows together, is that a song or does he just rhyme when he's sad? “Bye then." 

He's ready to call it a night but then why should he? If you're saying no he's going to make damn sure he's done everything he can. He pulls up his notes app and dials your number again. 

"It's me.” He says sternly. "I did research, you know?! That's how desperate I've been this past few weeks. Now these are the best the internet has to offer, so if you still say no after all these, it's you that's the problem.” 

He coughs to clear his throat, holding his phone like a Shakespearean actor about to make his debut at The Globe, and starts reading. 

"Are you a parking ticket? Because you've got fine written allllll over you. Errrrr oh! Somebody calls the cops! Because it HAS GOT to be illegal to look that good," he's silent whilst he thinks about what he's just said. “That's what I should've said to her. Then you wouldn't have decided to hate me more than anyone in this world." 

He hangs up the phone and sobs again, remembering how sad you looked as you left the elevator. 

He dials and waits for the beep. 

“I'm back, sorry I got a little sad because the girl I Iike left the elevator looking like a sad puppy. Back to my list," he gets himself comfortable with his notes app open, “have you ever been in a car accident? Because I'd like to rear end you!" He throws his head back laughing, “I like that one. It'd work on me I think. But you could read me the obituary and it would work on me," he stares at the wall before he remembers his mission, “ARE YOU A BIRD ENTHUSIAST? Because you look like you've seen a cock or two!” 

He looks in horror at his phone before hangs up and throws it to the end of his bed. 

"What have you done Seungcheol?!” He paces around the room with his head in his hands, "ring her back. Find a nice one and ring her back. She'll like that.” 

He rushes for his phone and dials your number again. He knows just the thing to rectify this. 

"_____?” He says softly. "I didn't mean that one. I've got one I do mean." He takes a deep breath, “they say you are what you eat and I’d like to be you?” He mumbles, "NO that isn't it. Wait! Just wait one second!” He thumbs the screen and finds the actual line he wanted, "Ok, I got it," he takes a deep breath, “I'm lost, can you give me directions to your heart?"

He sniffles, tears falling down his cheeks and silently hangs up the phone. He won't be able to sleep, he knows he won't. So he opts for a shower and makes himself a coffee to sober up a bit. 

What a fucking mess. He just hopes you don't quit because of him. Everyone loves you, Woozi would be lost without you and, even if he can't have you, he can't not see you. That would ruin him. 

You woke up a little before six, not that you'd really been asleep that long. When you got back to your room you tried your best but sleep just wouldn't come. 

The sun was bright and the blue skies looked more than inviting as you reached over to check your phone. You didn't think much of the amount of messages. There was a time difference and you were always getting calls from different people for Woozi. Though he'd told you to leave getting back to them until after your little break, unless it was really urgent. 

None of the messages you've ever had before in your life though have ever sent you on the emotional rollercoaster that the ones this morning did. 

You listened to them all. Three times in fact. Your smile growing each time you listened now you knew how they ended. 

What you saw last night wasn't what you thought was happening. You just presumed it was because it's him, flirting with women is what he does. 

And the pickup lines, though cheesy, boarding on offensive at times, only made your smile wider. 

You needed to fix this, you needed to find him and one, check he doesn't have alcohol poisoning and two, tell him that you feel exactly the same way he does. 

The man at the reception desk wasn't thrilled when ran to the desk at 6:15 and demanded use of their printer. You're fairly certain he only agreed because you scared him a little bit. But he let you and you managed to print out the picture of the bats. It wasn't the best quality paper, you'd have preferred a proper photo paper option but it was the best you could do at short notice. 

So with the photo in the frame and the frame in a much nicer bag you'd managed to “borrow" from the giftshop when the man at reception wasn't looking, you headed to his room. 

Yes, it's early, but if you don't do this now, you never will.

This is like history repeating itself. You knocking on his door and him blatantly ignoring you. Thankfully there's no noise you'd rather not hear this time. But he's still ignoring you. 

Why did you think he'd answer? He's clearly pissed at you and he's clearly not been asleep for very long judging by the time on those messages. If anything, you've probably fucked him off more by hammering on his door.  

You take a deep breath and turn around. He isn't going to talk to you. You just need to deal with that. 

Deciding you need fresh air, you head to the beach. You hadn't been down there yet and by all accounts it was one of the most pristine golden beaches in the country. 

As you walk down the path to the beach, shoulders you recognise come into view. He's here? He's not going to throw himself in the ocean surely? You can't have driven him to that frame of mind. You'll never get over it and you probably won't have to. By the time Shadow fans hear about it, you'll be skinned alive. 

“Seungcheol?" You say quietly as you come to stand by him. 

His head whips up to you and the sight of him wiping tears from his eyes breaks your heart. 

“What are you doing here? Is something wrong? Why are you awake?" 

“I could say the same to you." You smile softly, “it's barely been two hours since your phone calls." 

“I haven't been to bed yet," he sniffs and looks back at the ocean, “just showered and came here. I needed to clear my head." 

You just hum and follow his eyes to the ocean. 

“Can I sit with you?" 

“I can't really stop you." He shrugs, still looking at the gentle waves.

"You can tell me not to.” 

You wait for a moment but he doesn't say anything and so you take that as you sign to sit next to him. 

“I lied." 

“What?" He looks at you confused. 

“I lied." You sigh. “I didn't feel ill. Well, I sort of did. I'd just bought you something from one of the little stalls and I looked up and you had that girl in your arms. I just saw red, every woman I've ever seen you with has made me see red. Though it's only these past few days I've admitted that to myself.” 

"But why?” 

"Because I like you. And I thought you liked me, I thought this truce was your way of starting something with me. And so when I looked up and saw what I did, I just felt so stupid. And I'd had a drink and said that about the balls, I couldn't face you. Or her.” 

"She fell……..” 

"I know, I listened to the messages.” you stop him. 

"All of them?” He winces. 

"All of them.” You smile. 

“I’ve liked you for weeks." He draws absent mindedly in the sand but seeing no reason to not be honest, “I just didn't know I did. This back and forth we had going on that first day, it became routine. I wanted your attention, I wanted to be around you all the time. But I've never felt like that. I've never felt like this. And so I thought I don't need to figure out my feelings as long as I can still be near you and we could still argue. My head has been so messed up, I've never had these feelings before. I haven't even fucked anyone since that time we met." 

“You still don't know her name," you narrow your eyes at him. 

“I do!! It's….well it's……..I don't actually remember her name because the only woman I care about is you.” 

"Nice save,” you grin even though your heart is doing somersaults. 

"Thanks,” he smiles sadly. "And then I decide fuck it, nothing is ever going to happen, and I pounched on the first poor woman I saw.” 

"The one in the elevator?” 

"Hm-mm,” his eyes darken, "and then I let her do what she did and I hated myself. I knew I'd gone too far, I knew I finally had to do something. And so I do and then….” 

"And then I ruin it.” You finish his sentence. 

"Well I was going to say the girl who pretended to fall.” 

"It was me. We both know it.” 

Silence descends, the sound of waves rippling onto the shore being the only thing that breaks it. It isn't tense or filled with hatred, it's a weirdly content silence.

"I got you something.” 

He just looks at you, obviously not really knowing what to say. 

"Well it's more for your mom.” You hand him the bag. 

"Can I open it then? Or should I wait?” 

"No, open it, please. There's a note in there too, but that's for you not your mom.” 

He frowns a little, not really sure why you've put a note in when you're talking to him, but he opens it anyway. 

The frame is first, his eyes softening when he pulls it out of the bag and sees that you've kept your promise on helping him with a souvenir for his mom. 

"She'll love it,” he beams at the photo. 

"I really liked the photo you took. I really liked both of the photos you took." 

His bright eyes find yours and you're relieved to see that the tears that fall now aren't quite as sad as the ones that fell when you arrived. 

“I read you should always take photos of the beautiful things, to remember them. So that's what I did." 

Your whole heart feels like it might explode. You're not worried about feeling like an idiot anymore. You've made big enough idiots of yourselves. All you feel now is thankful that you decided to get some air, that you found him here and now you hear words like that coming from his perfect lips. 

"There's a note in there too,” 

Seungcheol takes it out and as his cheeks turn pink, the most glorious laugh you've ever heard echoes around the empty beach. 

Seungcheol, 

I was wondering if you had an extra heart? Mine was just stolen. 

“That," he laughs, wiping his cheeks, “is far cheesier than any of mine." 

“Maybe," you giggle, “but at least it's not offensive." You try to speak very seriously. 

"I really didn't mean the cock or two one,” 

"Oh but you did mean the one about rear ending and that you are what you eat?” You challenge. 

"I mean, that depends.” 

"On what?” 

"On whether you'll be my girlfriend?” He says awkwardly, "I've never done it before. A relationship I mean and I can't promise I'll be great at it. But all I know is I want to be near you, I want to be the one who makes you smile. If you'll let me.” 

You search his eyes, they're different from the ones that looked back at you when he first opened his hotel room door. Just as beautiful but now there's something more in them, an honesty that tells you he's telling the truth. And that he does care and he does want to try this with you. 

“I don't use my best pickup lines on just anyone you know," you say as loftily as you can, “I only keep those for the men I want to be my boyfriend." 

His whole face brightens, any little worries he had that you'd still say no evaporating on the spot. 

“Can I kiss you?" He edges closer, looking at your lips. 

“That depends." 

“On what?" he frowns. 

“Please tell me you brushed your teeth after you showered. For one of those messages you hadn't actually put the phone down properly until after you'd been sick. The breath must've been….." 

“Hey," he takes your cheek in his hand and shuts you up, “I'm not an animal," 

“I was just checking," you mumble, transfixed by his lips and the way your cheek seems to fit perfectly in his hand. 

“You're so annoying." He whispers, so close to your lips that you can taste his minty breath. 

His lips touch yours for the first time in the softest kiss you've ever received. It's barely there and yet the weight of the meaning behind it fills your heart. 

It's like that first touch was a test, to check you wanted this and didn't run away from him. Because he pulls back for a second, stares down at your lips and closes the space between you again. One hand on your waist and the other still cupping your cheek but this time it’s frantic. Like he wants to make sure that this kiss makes up for those weeks of fighting and trying to hurt each other. 

He pushes you back onto the sand and takes your gasp in shock as the perfect opportunity to let his tongue dance with yours. His hand that was on your cheek now rests just beside your head on the sand, the big arms you admired for so long caging you in. You've wanted to feel them for so long, so you don't think twice. Your hands grip his biceps as the kiss turns sloppy. Both of you wanting to show the other his serious you, how much you both want this. 

It's only when you moan at the feel of his hardening dick through his shorts that Seungcheol seems to snap out of his need to swallow all of your gasps. 

“We should stop." He says softly, though doesn't pull away. 

“Why? There's nobody here." 

“I don't want to, you know, have sex. I want to do this properly, not that I really know what properly is. But I want to take you out, make sure you know I'm serious." 

“I know you're serious," you point out, gazing up at him and moving his hair off his face, “but I get it. I don't want to have sex yet either. But I don't see any reason we can't carry on the kissing." 

"Is that right?” 

"Hm-mm. But could we do it somewhere else? I'm sure a tiny crab just crawled up my shorts.”

"Oh shit!” He helps you to your feet as you stomp around trying to excavate the crab before it reaches your ass. 

"Get out, get out, get out!” You flap until eventually you see a tiny crab fall from your shorts. "Oh thank fuck for that!” 

“Better?" 

“Much. Imagine having to tell the guys your girlfriend's got crabs." 

“Oh god," he groans as he pulls a cackling you towards him and holds you close, “that's a fucking terrible joke." 

“Well you need to laugh! It's what boyfriends do!" 

“Why do I feel like that's going to be said a lot to make me do things I don't want to do." 

“Because it is," you kiss him, “and I do have something I want you to do." 

“Oh yeah?" He smirks. 

“Not that? Although we do need to talk about the way you ate out that papaya, it was like something off pornhub." 

“Why are you watching pornhub?" He grins. 

“I’m not, I only consume ethical pornogrpahy." 

“You read Game of Thrones smut." 

“I do n…how do you know that?!” 

"I read it over your shoulder once.” 

"What a pervert!” 

"I'm not the one reading Stark smut!” 

"Well that's only because I don't sleep with people who I don't even know the name of!” 

"Are you slut shaming me?” 

"Yes!” 

"Well,” he huffs, "my own girlfriend,” your heart flutters at the word, "betraying me. Lucky I've only got eyes for one woman now.” 

"Is she hot?” 

"The hottest.” He smirks. "Come on, let's get breakfast. You can watch me eat papaya and tell me all the dirty things you want me to do to it.” He grins as he pulls you along, not forgetting the bag with his mom's photo and the note he'll treasure forever. 

"What did you want me to do then?” 

"That bag,” you walk hand in hand off the beach and back towards the outside tables of the restaurant, "I technically stole it?” 

He stops and looks at you in horror. 

"It wasn't my fault! The old lady, who by the way is a terrifyingly good business woman, put it in a bag which I'm certain was first used in the eighties! And the shop wasn't technically open and I couldn’t not put it in a bag. So I stole it? Well, I borrowed it. If I give you the money, could you give it to them please?" 

“It's one bag. It barely costs anything. Just leave it." 

“No! Please! I'll do whatever you want.” 

"Whatever I want?” He quirks his brow at you and you feel your heart and pussy tingle. 

"Within reason.” 

"I'll do it,” you both set off walking again, "so long as you wear that leather skirt again on our first date.” 

"Deal.” You grin, kissing his cheek and happily gliding towards the hotel. 

"I've got plans for that leather skirt.” 

"I know you do. You didn't say it in your head about the added feature you'd like to make, you said it out loud. I heard it all. Lucky for you, I've thought a lot about where I'd like your head.” 

He drops your hands and watches open mouthed as you keep walking towards the hotel, making an extra effort to sway your hips. 

“Well come on then! I thought you'd promised me a show!" 

“Fucking hell." He whispers, almost in awe. 

“I think they're actually being more competitive now." Soonyoung complains as he looks over his sunglasses. 

“You'd think they'd be nicer to each other, ______ just nearly took him out with that inflatable ball." 

They're all watching in horror as you and Seungcheol take on the inflatable assault course again in the pool. 

“I don't think you'll need to worry about being the best man at the wedding Soonyoung. They'll have killed each other before then," they all wince and sit back in their seats as they see you hit the deck and land on your ass because of Seungcheol. 

"Please, can we all agree that we will never play board games or computer games with them.” Mingyu jumps as you dive into the pool with a shriek, "I think they'd both cause serious bodily harm if they lost monopoly. 

“Imagine Mario Kart." 

“Blood bath." Woozi and Jeonghan speak in unison, shaking their heads. 

"OH FOR GOD'S SAKE! DO THEY HAVE TO KEEP DOING THAT?! MY EYES!” 

"It's ok honey, I'll tell you when it's stopped,” Mingyu's girlfriend covers his eyes as she looks fondly at you and Seungcheol in the pool. 

She's never wrong about these things, she told them all that. 

And from the way you're currently so lost in each other, you're more or less dry humping in the pool as you steal each other's oxygen. She's still got that winning streak. 

She knew one day someone would come along who would drag Seungcheol out of his predictable rock star ways. She just thanks the universe that it's you. Someone who's come to mean so much to all of them, but everything to Seungcheol.

🏷️ @rutheaflowers @bramos91 @fzenn @blueyedqtpie1186 @coupsv @vwintershire @toohyperactiveforyou12 @cheolwoo @jaja-salute @sejeonggggg @epelletart @wonwooslefttiddie @fwairychlo3 @joongtime @4kwp @ninigyuuu @sami4jeonghani @ashlinxloves @cardi-bre91 @adoreuzi

“His Majesty’s condition is stable at the moment, but the chance of getting better is slim, Your Royal Highness,” Wonwoo, the King’s best Doctor, explains, and Cheol hums.

“What shall we do then, William?” He asks, turning to face the Head Advisor again. He clears his throat, briefly glancing at the Queen in the corner before looking at the three Princes in front of him again.

“It’d probably be for the best if a new King takes over. So that in the eyes of people, the change looks like His Majesty’s retirement instead of a sign of weakness.”

“Everyone agreed on this?” Cheol raises an eyebrow and William nods, making him sigh.

“This is the best we can do for our kingdom and its people,” Kaito assures him. There’s not much he can do if the council deemed this the right move. He’s been raised for this exact moment, trained in etiquette, strategy, and politics just so he could take over the throne and lead the people one day.

He just hasn’t expected for the day to come so soon.

“I assume coronation shall be as soon as possible?” Joshua, the second born, questions, finally letting the room know of his presence. The council representative exchanges a glance with the Doctor, agreeing.

“When?” Cheol asks, his mind clouded with what this change might bring. No more sneaking around the palace and drinking in the kitchens with his lords, no more sword fights with his friends just because they were bored, and no more fooling around.

“Yesterday preferably, Your Royal Highness.”

“Let me change my question,” Seungcheol tilts his head, his irritation building up at all the stalling. He just wants to get this over with. “When is the earliest you can arrange a coronation? And make my father as presentable as possible so he doesn’t faint while placing the crown on my head?”

“His Majesty is in the best care. We’re trying hard to make sure he feels better,” Wonwoo proclaims, making the Prince grit his teeth.

“When?”

“A month,” Kaito interrupts. “Give us a month to prepare everything, Your Royal Highness.” The Prince runs his hand through his black hair, nodding.

“Is that all for today? I feel rather tired.”

“Of course, sire.”

He wants to speak up again, admonish the council member for his mistake because he isn’t the King, thou should not be called a sire, but he bites the words back. Because that’s what he is now, isn’t he? The King. And this is something he’ll have to get used to.

“Everyone leave,” he dismisses them, stopping Joshua and Chan when they try to step away. “You two stay.” The two younger exchange a glance, watching everyone else leave the throne room after the Prince’s command. The new role suits him more than he realizes.

“Your Majesty,” Chan mocks a bow as soon as everyone is gone, making Cheol scoff.

“Don’t call me that. It’s weird.”

“It’s what you’re going to be,” Joshua reminds him. “The King. Our King.”

“I hope you’ll leave me some land when you start ruling,” the youngest mumbles, making his way to the throne and plopping down as if it’d belong to him. “I guess I won’t get the chance to sit here in front of our people.”

“Do you want to?” Cheol raises his eyebrow. “I’ll gladly get the burden off my back and leave the kingdom to you.”

Joshua shakes his head, “for that we’d both have to fall dead and so far, I’m still enjoying my life. So no, thank you.”

“He could also fight me for the crown,” he shrugs, meeting the youngest’s eyes. “If that’s what he feels like doing, of course.” Chan quickly stands up and walks from the throne, his eyes flashing with the realization of what they are talking about. If he wasn’t so lucky, and his brother wasn’t so understanding, he might as well drop dead for treason.

It’s quiet for a beat before Joshua speaks again. “Who’s going to inform our sister?”

The oldest immediately shakes his head, shutting down the conversation before it can start. “She doesn’t need to bother herself with such things. Politics shall not burden her, she’s too young.”

“She’s my twin,” Chan reminds him.

“And she is also a Princess,” Cheol argues. The two younger Princes exchange a look, saying everything with their eyes. As much as they love Seungcheol and everything he does for them, sometimes his best interest doesn’t align with their sister’s, and they know it bothers her. But as the soon-to-be King of Veloria, there is nothing they can say to him.

“She shall know her father is slowly dying.”

“I’m sure William has that covered. One of her ladies-in-waiting might tell her.”

Joshua raises his eyebrow, “and you think that’s how she shall find out? From one of her gossip-loving ladies?”

“If you want to take it upon yourself to tell her, feel free to,” Cheol brushes him off. “But don’t let her think we need her help. She might want to jump into a marriage just to help with alliances and help people think about other things while our father goes. You know her.”

Joshua nods. That’s the best he can do at the moment anyway. Arguing would be pointless. He is right. He can never predict what their sister will do at times of crisis. Because no matter how far away the oldest Prince wants to keep her from politics, she was raised by her mother, a woman who always believed Princesses were good for more than just standing beside a King and giving him an heir.

♡⸝⸝

It’s safe to say the following days are hectic.

Seungcheol moves around the palace with William behind him, pointing out everyone he should know and greet so as to not make any enemies for the kingdom. It surprises him how many lords and ladies from different kingdoms are currently paying a visit to them. The word of a new King coming on the throne spread fast, and lords from all around the world came to show their faces and remind him of their places, while their mothers showed off their daughters, hoping for the future King to choose them as his future wife.

“It is true you shall find a Queen to stand by your side and show the people you’re as strong a ruler as the previous King, Your Royal Highness.”

“Why is a Queen necessary for this?” He raises his eyebrow, smiling as he walks past servants in the halls.

“You need an heir. And when the people see they’re led by a pair of people who love each other, it always helps.”

“But you don’t want me to marry for love,” he thinks out loud, making William blink a few times at his sudden boldness before he regains his calm demeanor.

“Love comes in many forms, Your Highness. Some people never fall in love, and some die from loving too hard.”

“Which one is your case?” Cheol wonders, never looking back to meet his eyes.

“I don’t have time for love, Your Highness.”

“That’s unfortunate,” he mumbles. It’s the last thing he says for a while after, simply nodding as William helps him grasp everything.

But if he is honest, his help feels more like nagging. Nothing Cheol says or does seems like enough, and William gives him a disapproving look on his every step. Eventually, he gives up, shutting down completely and just listening. He bites his tongue, pushing back all the insults and arguments that build in the back of his throat every time the Head Advisor treats him like a child, a little, naive Prince who shouldn’t come to power just yet.

It’s clear he doesn’t like the idea of Seungcheol taking over but there is nothing he can do about it, not when the King has barely moved in the past month, resting in his bed with maids running around him, making sure he has everything he needs.

It really doesn’t feel great. It’s not like he asked for the power. If he could, he’d leave the crown to his father for another hundred years. But that’s impossible, and William has to accept that just like he did. He is the crown Prince, the first born of the Veloria King, and as much freedom it gave him, as much responsibility it brings.

“Let’s call it a night,” Cheol interrupts William’s rambling about the coronation. He’s barely comprehending any of the information, too tired to register the words as they leave William’s lips. It’d be better for both of them if they just leave this for a different day.

William squeezes his eyes shut, waving off the maid that just came inside so they’re left alone in the throne room again. “Your Highness, this can’t wait any longer. Your coronation is near and people are whispering about it. It needs to be perfect. Based on how it goes, your reign will follow,” the words rot on his lips, making it more than obvious he isn’t happy with the amount of things he has to explain and teach the new King.

“How fancy you make my coronation has nothing to do with how I’ll rule my kingdom,” the Prince disagrees, waving at the knights guarding the door to open them because he is leaving. “I’ll see you tomorrow, William. Hopefully we are both in a better mood, otherwise our conversation will be far from pleasant.”

The door shuts behind him again, leaving the Head Advisor standing there, frustration building up. He needs the King to get back on his feet. And he needs it now. “Call for Doctor Wonwoo. I need to speak to him.” One of the guards nods, excusing himself before leaving the room to fetch the Doctor.

Seungcheol drops on his bed, allowing his eyes to close for a short second and his mind relax. It’s been a long day, and all he wants to do is turn it off and let others deal with everything. It might have worked had he still only had the responsibilities of a Prince, but right now, he has more things on his plate. He needs to think of the coronation, his sick father, protecting his people, and finding a Queen.

He needs to sit down tomorrow and listen to all of William’s suggestions. If he’s lucky, by the end of his speech, he’ll be able to pick a wife.

It feels wrong to think about it like this. He knows why it’s important to marry, why it’s expected of him, but the thought of trapping an innocent woman in order to make a new ally is ridiculous. He saw what marriage has done with his father. For eight years, he looked miserable, putting on a fake act every time he was asked to pose with Joshua’s mother for a portrait. They were even less than business partners.

On the other hand, he also saw the way his father’s eyes lit up every time his third wife walked into the room. The way he showered her in love and did his best to raise Chan and his twin sister right. Whenever he spoke of his wife, it was like a story from a fairy tale. A man truly loving a woman. It was a rare sight in this society, but not non-existent.

Cheol always knew that wasn’t written in his stars. His sibling might have a shot, they might be able to walk the Earth and take their time choosing a partner whom they love, but it wasn’t meant for him. His role was clear. He is meant to marry the Princess who brings the most for his kingdom and produce an heir with her. It’s expected for them to be business partners and treat each other as so while searching for love and pleasure elsewhere.

A loud knock on the door interrupts his thoughts, making him raise his head. “Yes?” He calls out and the door opens, his eyes meeting with Joshua’s. He’s not alone, though — three other men stand by his side with grins on their faces and alcohol bottles in hands. He smirks, nodding at the guards outside his door to let them in.

He stands up from his bed, watching his two brothers, one of his closest friends Mingyu, and Joshua’s lord-in-waiting — Choi Yeonjun — step inside. “Taehyun, get us more bottles from the kitchen and don’t let anyone else in. If William wants to speak to me, tell him to wait till the morning, no matter how important he says it is.” The guard at the Prince’s door nods, bowing slightly before closing the room and leaving to fulfill his task.

“We heard it was a hard day, King,” Mingyu teases, getting Cheol to roll his eyes. They all take a seat on the bed, kicking their boots off and settling the champagne and beer bottles in front of them.

“So we thought we could cheer you up,” Chan grins, already opening one of the bottles.

“William makes me sick every time I’m around him,” Cheol admits, taking another sip of his beer. He’s not sure how much he had until now, but he knows he’s getting tipsy.

“You can name a new Head Advisor after your coronation,” Lord Choi speaks up, sharing a champagne bottle with Chan.

Cheol’s eyes widen, the realization he doesn’t have to spend his ruling with William behind his back settling it. “Who would I name, though?”

“How about Seungkwan?” Mingyu suggests with a shrug. The moment all eyes land on him he wishes he hasn’t said anything after all. It’s been years since he’s gotten close to the Princes, and it still feels like he is doing something wrong when he is around them. He doesn’t address them by their titles when they are alone or holds his tongue like other guards, always worried they might change their opinion on him and send him away for disrespecting the royal family.

But the truth is far from it, and Seungcheol feels grateful to him every time he is around. He can’t remember a time of his life where he’s been able to laugh freely and forget about his title. With Mingyu, he can do so. And even just this one person, one person who doesn’t care about his rank or if he’ll make a good impression, is enough.

“The scholar?” Joshua questions. “I’ve heard about him.”

“Is he good?” Cheol blinks, trying to match the name with a face.

“The best,” he agrees. “I heard he’s the best student the academy has had in years.”

“He knows politics and finds interest in other royal families. He might even know your weaknesses,” Mingyu explains, catching the Prince’s interest.

“Do you guys think William will get mad if I ask him about naming a new Head Advisor tomorrow?” The guys laugh, their voices filling the room as they drink into the night, leaving their responsibilities behind for now. It can wait. Ruling can wait.

“Tomorrow, I’ll find myself a wife,” Cheol proclaims, raising his beer bottle high above his head as if he was celebrating.

“A wife?”

He nods, taking a sip. “A Queen. We need one, right? It’s what society wants from me, it’s what you all want from me,” he points at every single one of them, making them raise their brows.

“You’re drunk,” Joshua points out. “You should sleep.”

“I think not,” he argues. The thought of going to sleep just for tomorrow to arrive isn’t pleasant. If he’s lucky, he’ll last until the morning and convince his guards not to let anyone in because he is sick. Even though he wouldn’t be surprised if William bothered him despite it.

Rather than looking like a fool who can’t hold his alcohol in the morning, maybe he should go to sleep. He needs to look his best and prove to everyone he can be the person they need him to be. The King. A strong leader who knows what to do and how to present himself.

Alright, he can do so.

He waves his hand in the air, sending the four men out. “If you need anything, feel free to call for us, Your Royal Highness,” Yeonjun proclaims, staying in the right mind even with alcohol staining his breath.

“Yes,” he nods, just to show he comprehends what he is saying. Even though he’s not sure if he truly does. The alcohol is making its way to his head.

“Good night, brother,” Chan smiles, patting his shoulder lightly. “May the alcohol leave your body before William finds you.” Mingyu beside him snickers and Joshua nudges him, shaking his head.

“Good night, our future King of Veloria,” Mingyu bows, his lips curved into a teasing smile. But Seungcheol can’t find it in himself to care enough, the only thing on his mind right now being the great sleep he is going to get.

Everything is happening too fast.

You’re not ready, you realize as you look outside of your chamber window, taking in the sight of the beautiful garden. Your grip on the edge tightens as you steady yourself, your head spinning. It feels like you can’t breathe. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath with your mouth and counting down numbers.

Ten, nine, eight…

When that doesn’t work, you open your eyes again, focusing on the garden in front of you. Lilies, roses, daisies, foxgloves, anemones… You take a deep breath again, calming yourself as your eyes scan every flower in the garden.

“My lady, are you okay?” You turn around with a smile when you hear Daniela’s voice, putting on the best show you can.

“Never been better,” you lie, glancing out of the window once more before paying her your full attention. “What is it?” You wonder, hoping your smile is convincing enough and she won’t ask any more questions.

“The carriage is ready. Your family is waiting for you,” she informs you, and you feel like throwing up.

It’s too fast.

You nod either way, following her through the hallway as you go over the flowers in your garden again. When you get outside and the cold air hits your face, you feel better immediately. Daniela, your lady-in-waiting, tells you about how excited she is to step her feet into the Veloria kingdom, and how lucky your family is to be asked to join the coronation of the future King Seungcheol. You tune out her words, focusing on the laughter of kids running around the gardens and your mother's voice as she admonishes your brother to stop jumping around.

You’ve heard it many times in the past week. It’s always the same story too. You’re being constantly reminded of how grateful you should be for being the one the future King of Veloria noticed because it means you don’t have to worry about your future anymore and can live at ease that you won’t end up a spinster. But you feel everything but ease.

You never counted on getting married for love, it was always obvious your father would find you and your sisters the right lover that could help your kingdom grow. You can’t even blame him for it, because it is the right thing to do in his situation. A part of you just wishes it wouldn’t be so soon, and that you could at least have some say in who you’re marrying.

“Darling,” your mother, the Queen, welcomes you with a smile. It’s way cleaner compared to your half-assed one.

“Mother,” you drop into a curtsy, your head down as you bend your knees.

“We are late.”

“Then we shall get inside,” you interrupt her before she can continue, glancing back at Daniela so she can join you in the carriage with your siblings.

She simply shakes her head with an apology, making you frown. “Darling, join our carriage so we can enjoy your company while it lasts,” your mother’s voice is sweet and for a second, you forget why you’re so scared of this change. She makes you feel like there’s nothing to worry about, that courting and marrying a complete stranger is alright. You nod, smiling at your younger siblings as you walk past them before sliding into the carriage where your father is already waiting.

You sit opposite him while your mother joins his side, wrapping her arm around his with a smile on her face. You’re not sure if they’ve ever been in love. If they got to experience the feeling you’ve read so much about. Even a simple moment where their heart would race faster, their head spinning, or the physical pain in their chest from not being near each other.

You’d like to believe your mother knows the feeling. That she does love your father in her own way and all her smiles are genuine, but you’d be a liar if you said you think your father feels the same. But their marriage works, and that’s what matters, right? They’ve had four beautiful children and even though they might not be in love in the same way you read about, they’re good together and understand each other.

Maybe you can find that when you marry as well. It might not be love, but understatement is just as good, isn’t it? You’ve heard many great things about Prince Seungcheol. Apparently his education is excellent, his face more than worthy of his title, and his kindness overwhelming. If he’s even half as good as people say, there shouldn’t be any problems with coming to an agreement that suits both parties.

“Father, have you thought about how long you’ll stay with us yet?” You ask as the carriage starts and the sound of the horses in front moving reaches your ears.

“We’ll see after the coronation of the new Veloria King,” he says and you nod, knowing that’s the most you’ll get out of him. If you could have a say, you’d ask for them to stay until the day of your wedding, but you doubt they’d even as much as consider asking for your opinion on the matter. You’ll be lucky if they even find the time to visit you on your wedding day.

“Darling, how are you feeling?”

You glance at your mother, offering her another one of your smiles. “I’m great,” you lie. “I’ve been talking about Prince Seungcheol with my ladies-in-waiting and can’t wait to meet him.”

“Can’t wait to see if the gossips are true?” Your father interrupts and your eyes widen.

You quickly shake it off, disagreeing. “I haven’t heard any gossip, father. My ladies-in-waiting only assured me of the Prince’s kind heart and academic achievements.” He hums, and you wonder what’s on his mind. Is there anything else you should know about the Prince? Should you feel worried?

You brush the thoughts aside before they overtake you, glancing outside the carriage and watching the nature pass you by. If you’re looking forward to something, it’s the large garden of Veloria Kingdom you’ve read about in your childhood. You want to see the new scenery, much more than the Prince if you’re honest.

There’s a number of servants waiting for you and your family when you arrive. You step out of the carriage with the help of one of the knights, immediately looking around and taking in the sight.

“My lady.” You snap out of your thoughts and look at the knight beside you. “Let me take you to your chamber so you can settle in.” You nod, briefly glancing at your siblings before following the knight’s lead.

“What is your name?” You wonder, looking around as you walk through the halls.

“Kang Taehyun,” the knight answers without sparing you as much as a glance. He doesn’t say much but you expected that. Some might consider it rude if he decided to start a chat. No one can say anything if it’s you asking him questions, though.

“What’s the shortest way to get to the gardens, Taehyun?”

You listen carefully as he explains the floor plan of the palace to you, picturing the way you’ll go in your head. “There’s no need for you to worry about that, Your Highness. There shall always be a knight ready to assist you when you want to go on a stroll.”

You hum back. It’s no surprise, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t hoping for more freedom. “How about my lady-in-waiting? Can’t she accompany me instead?”

“We’ve been asked to look after you at any time, Your Highness,” he answers simply, stopping when he reaches your chamber. “Dinner will be in an hour. Until then, if you need anything, I’ll be here.” You shake your head, walking past him and closing the door behind you. It’s only then that you feel like you can breathe properly. You take a moment to relax before looking around the large room, appreciating the work they did for you. Everything is perfect, neat.

You walk around your new room for a while, picking out a new dress for the dinner and laying it down on your bed. You could probably fit three more dresses there. It makes you wonder just how large the King’s bed must be if this is what you get. Even your room is much bigger than the one back home. It doesn’t surprise you that it’s Prince Seungcheol whom your father deemed appropriate for you. Alliance with a kingdom like this could help your homeland a lot.

You open the door again, finding Taehyun already waiting for you. It catches you off guard, making you flinch. He clears his throat, not a single sign of emotion on his face as he looks at you. You shake your head slightly, reminding yourself why you came out. “Hi,” you smile. “Could you please get me a maid or my lady-in-waiting? I need help changing into my dress for dinner.” You watch his eyes trail behind you, noticing the light pink dress on your bed. He nods, not questioning anything as he turns on his heel.

You watch him leave the hallway, closing the door behind you as you wander through the chamber, following his guide and getting outside again, straight into the gardens.

They are as beautiful as the books painted them to be. You can’t get enough as you take in the sight of the flowers around you, breathing in the fresh air. While everything about your situation feels fast, making your heart race, it all slows down when you walk through the Veloria gardens, taking your time with exploring them. You know you should hurry, that Taehyun is most certainly looking for you by now, but you’d rather risk not being able to look at everything today — which you know you won’t be able to do either way if you want to be on time for the dinner — than rushing it and making the one place that calms you do the opposite.

“Your Highness.”

You stop in your walk, a smile on your face. It came later than you expected. You don’t turn completely, letting Taehyun wait for a moment longer as you take in the sight of the lilies in front of you. He comes closer to you, stopping right beside you and looking at the same flowers. It’s only then that you look up, blinking confusedly when it’s not Taehyun on your side.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize even though you’re not truly sure what for. Getting here without an escort? Not recognizing him? Stepping here uninvited? Maybe all of the above, actually.

“What for?” He tilts his head, taking in the sight of you. You hesitate, opening your mouth before closing it again. He smiles, resting his right hand over his heart and bowing, “Seungcheol,” is all he says.

But it’s enough to make your eyes widen, realization hitting in. “Your Royal Highness,” you quickly drop into a courtesy, closing your eyes in regret. You should have realized. This was stupid of you, so, so stupid—

“Please, Seungcheol is fine,” he holds your hand in his, helping you straighten again. You gaze into his eyes, swallowing nervously. He looks around again, encouraging you to walk with him. You do, of course you do, glancing at him every now and then, worried you just ruined your first impression.

Despite your nervousness, he doesn’t seem to be bothered by your slip up at all. His dark eyes stay focused on the path ahead, black strands falling in front of them. His eyebrows are thick, his white shirt unbuttoned at the top, exposing bits of his skin. The longer you look at him, the more you understand everything you’ve heard about him. He is handsome. You can see why Princesses from other kingdoms were so eager to meet him, hoping it’d be them he’d pick as his future wife. It also makes you wonder a lot more what led him to choosing you. Out of all the young Princesses looking for a spouse, why was it you he decided to pay attention to?

“Was your ride here okay?” He breaks the silence after a moment.

“Perfect, Your Royal Highness.”

He chuckles, shaking his head slightly. Looks like he’ll have to earn his way for you to call him by his name instead of his title. “And you? How are you feeling, my lady?”

You put on the same fake smile you showed everyone back home as you look at him and lie again. “Peachy, Your Royal Highness. It’s an honor to be here.”

He hums at your response, noticing the light drop of your eyes when you talk. It’s clear you’re lying, but it’s also clear you won’t tell him the truth even if he asks. So instead, he settles for the more sensible approach, changing the topic of conversation. “I’ve heard about your interest in our gardens, is that why you ran away from your guard?”

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to,” you quickly shake your head. “It won’t happen again.”

“That wasn’t my question,” his voice is gentle as he talks to you, much gentler than you expected. The Princes you’ve had the honor of meeting weren’t exactly welcoming, always making you feel like they were above you, like you were theirs to play with. But Prince Seungcheol doesn’t make you feel that way. You feel almost equal.

You nod slightly, looking at the path ahead of you. “I’ve read about your gardens my whole life, about everything they have to offer. And I must tell you, none of the books I’ve read grasp the feeling of being here enough. What you have here is truly special.”

“I’m glad they are to your liking,” he glances at you, meeting your eyes. You offer him a smile, this time a real one. “You are free to visit anytime. And if you have any questions, or suggestions, one of our gardeners will love to listen,” his eyes trail off, finding one of the men keeping the Veloria gardens in their beauty across the bushes lining your right, pointing him out. “But I’d appreciate it if you visited with one of our guards from now on.”

You part your lips just to push them together again, nodding. He’s not asking for much, the least you can do for him is take a guard with you when you’re going somewhere. Maybe you can get closer to Taehyun this way too and make your time here less lonely. Sure, you have Daniela but she can’t be with you at all times. A royal guard meant to protect you surely can though.

“Of course, Your Royal Highness.”

He stops in his track, turning to face you. “How about Prince?” He offers and you blink confusedly. “If I can’t get you to drop the full title, then how about you just address me as Prince? Prince Seungcheol?”

If your mother saw this, she would have called for your teacher immediately, insisting on having to learn your manners from scratch. You know your place, that no matter the fact you are to be married he is still above you, but it’s hard to think of him that way when he offers you his warm smile, your eyes getting lost in his. Prince Seungcheol makes you want to be close with him, to the point you can drop all your titles and just be comfortable with each other.

But it’s too soon for that.

“Okay,” you nod, “Prince Seungcheol.” His smile grows wider, your cheeks flushed red at the sight of him. He makes you feel warm and for some reason, that feels like more than the love you’ve been reading and dreaming about your whole life. Maybe getting married won’t be that bad, maybe you and the Prince can find more than just an understanding like you thought at first.

Taehyun is waiting in front of your room when you and the Prince come back and you give him an apologetic smile. “There are two maids waiting for you inside as well as your lady-in-waiting,” he informs you, stepping aside so you can walk inside.

“Thank you.” You turn around once more before opening the door, looking at Seungcheol once more.

He bows with a smile, “I’ll see you in a bit, my lady.” You drop into a courtesy as well, not saying anything as you watch him turn on his heel and walk down the hall, probably to his own chamber. As handsome as he might have looked earlier, a plain shirt certainly isn’t what he wants to be seen in at a formal dinner with both of your families.

“I’m sorry for running off on you,” you turn to Taehyun. “It won’t happen again.”

“Please, don’t be mistaken. Hadn’t it been for Prince’s eagerness to meet you as soon as possible, I would have found you as soon as you stepped out of your chamber,” he assures you and you blink confusedly. But before you can ask what he means, the door behind you opens, and Daniela is tugging you inside.

“We’re late, Princess, hurry.” That’s all Taehyun hears before the door shuts closed again right in his face, a heavy sigh leaving his lips as he turns his back to your door again, looking ahead while listening to your muffled laughs.

Seungcheol sits at the head of the table, his brothers and sister on his right. Your parents, The King and The Queen of Elowen sit on his left, indulging in a conversation with Joshua about the coronation. He watches them quietly, but the words start blending together. He can’t focus on them fully, his leg bouncing under the table as he waits for your arrival while thinking about how your youngest sister looks exactly like you when she laughs at something your brother said.

William stands behind him in the corner of the dining room alongside a few guards as well, watching the entire scene. Seungcheol doesn’t need to look at him to know he is impatient, probably already forming a speech in his head that he’ll have to hear later. He chuckles at the thought, clearing his throat and straightening his back again when he sees your parents glancing his way.

Truth is, the longer you take to get here the more he regrets keeping you out for so long. William has been against the idea of inviting you out of all the Princesses from start, and every imperfection he can find about you or your behavior only adds to the list of complaints he’ll have towards the council, hoping to send you back to Elowen before you can even settle in.

It’s his fault that you’re late right now, but how is he supposed to explain to the council that he’s kept you out with him without an escort or a lady-in-waiting to rush you back just because he wanted to get to know you better? Despite it being an open setting, he can already imagine the rumors that would start. Even though you’re to be his wife, the Queen of Veloria, it’d still look bad, and starting his ruling with people looking at him weird right off the bat isn’t something he wants to do.

The door finally comes open and Cheol snaps out of his thoughts, meeting eyes with you. A smile spreads on his lips as he takes in the sight of you, doing his best to calm you when he sees how your eyes flicker around the room. Your lady-in-waiting walks right behind you, stopping at the entrance which seems to only freak you out more as you look back at her.

“Why don’t you come eat with us, lady…” he trails off, waiting for her to introduce herself. She does, dropping into a courtesy as her name slips past her lips. “Lady Avanzini,” he repeats after her, motioning with his hand towards an empty seat beside his sister.

“Your Royal Highness,” William admonishes him, but he ignores it entirely, assuring her it’s okay. Once she sits down at the table, your shoulders visibly relax and you take a seat on the other side of the table, right opposed to Seungcheol.

“You look beautiful tonight, my lady,” he smiles at you, watching as you look down at your pink dress. His comment seems to please not only you but also your mother, a smile spreading on her face as she takes in the sight of you.

Seungcheol clears his throat, standing up from his place and raising his glass of champagne. “If I could have your attention for a moment.” All eyes land on him without hesitation and he makes the mistake of looking at his brothers, regretting it as soon as he meets eyes with Chan. How is he supposed to be serious when he looks like he’ll laugh at him the second he opens his mouth again?

“It is an honor to welcome the royal family of Elowen to Veloria as not just guests but kin,” he shares a smile with your parents, avoiding looking to his right where his family sits. “Coronation is near and it makes me pleased to know I won’t be standing there alone but with a beautiful woman that will soon be my Queen,” his gaze softens when he meets your eyes, letting you reassure him as much as he reassures you.

“May this union strengthen our land, our people, and our bonds,” he raises his glass slightly higher. “To peace, and to Her Royal Highness.” Everyone raises their glasses, smiles on their faces as they cheer to the starting connection, your younger sibling slightly out of place as they debate if it’s appropriate to raise their glasses with juice. He watches your sister hiss at them to keep quiet and just follow your parents’ lead, a soft laugh leaving his lips.

The food is served shortly after, the room busy as people come and leave again with trails full of drinks and food, the cutlery clinking against the utensils, conversations filling their surroundings. Seungcheol keeps his eyes on his siblings this time, listening to his sister’s speech about the importance of first impressions and how he’s aced them while his brothers tease him. But despite keeping his eyes on them, he can feel your stare on him from across the table, guilt creeping in as he thinks about what might be going through your head.

There were plenty of women William offered to him, pointing out the strengths of each of them. But the only thing that stuck with him was the information about you. It was far from love at first sight, quite the opposite if he’s honest.

He thought you were a safe option. Smart, beautiful, the oldest of the four Elowen heirs. He thought that, maybe, since you’ve been taught love wasn’t in your cards since the start just like him, marrying you could save you from being trapped in a marriage with a different noble far worse than him. Being with him was never supposed to be love. But understanding? Freedom? He could give you those. But as he thinks back to your flushed cheeks earlier and the way your eyes are looking at him in this crowded room, he’s worried again about trapping a woman who loves him when he can’t do the same.

He swallows his worries, focusing on his sibling as best as he can. The only thing left for him now is hope. Hope that he is wrong about you.

♡⸝⸝

Your mother’s eyes are welcoming, much more than he expected. He can’t imagine having the same warm smile on his face if it were his sister’s marriage they had been talking about. Maybe Joshua and Chan aren’t that far from the truth, maybe he is too protective of her. But what is he supposed to do? He knows how dangerous the world can be, how dangerous the men — despite calling themselves gentlemen — can be. He’d give anything to keep her safe.

“I’m seriously honored for being able to sit with you tonight,” Cheol smiles at both of your parents, glancing at William standing impatiently on the other side of the room. “Duties call but I hope you’ll feel at home during your stay. I’ll try to make myself available to accompany you to dinner again but I’m sure you know how preparations like this can get,” he excuses himself and your mother gives his forearm a light squeeze, saying her farewell with a smile.

“Dinner was supposed to last only until you were done eating,” William complains but Seungcheol doesn’t pay him any attention, leaving the dining room with his brothers right behind him.

He thinks back to the look in your eyes as he walks through the palace, tuning out his brothers’ chatters. He feels bad, far worse than he hoped he would. But the thought of his upcoming wedding, and what it’d mean for the two of you scares him. He wishes his father would magically get better every day more and more.

“We’re sorry for the delay,” he mutters an apology as he takes a seat on his father’s throne — soon to be his throne, he has to remind himself. Kaito stands on his side alongside Seungkwan as per his request, shaking his head.

“We’re simply glad you could join us, Your Royal Highness. As well as your brothers,” Kaito bows his head towards them, glancing at William. “I understand this is a matter of the future of Veloria.”

“Yes, precisely,” William agrees, his eyes locking to an awkward Seungkwan who has no idea why he was invited to join such a meeting. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

The young scholar clears his throat, glancing at Seungcheol for reassurance before speaking. “Boo Seungkwan, sir. I’m here per His Highness request.”

“His Highness?” The words rot on his tongue as he looks to face the future King comfortable sprawled on the throne. “This is an inner matter. Nothing the nescient outsiders shall know of.”

“And that is precisely why I asked him to join us today,” Seungcheol interrupts. “Seungkwan is no outsider. He is important to me and I'd like for him to join us today,” Seungcheol takes great pleasure in disagreeing with his Head Advisor and being the only one who truly knows why Seungkwan is here today — so he can test his abilities.

“Your Royal Highness—”

“It’s been decided,” Seungcheol brushes him off. “Seungkwan shall keep us company as we talk. Who knows, maybe I'll like an opinion of a fresh blood.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” William mutters through gritted teeth. If he feels anything, it's anger, though. He is well aware of the way the council has been trying to get rid of him ever since they got power but until today, he could have done something with it. It didn’t matter what the council thought as long as he had the King’s support, and King Choi had never even thought about replacing him.

“Excellent. Then we shall get to business. You wanted to complain about my future wife I assume?” He tilts his head, the power he feels as he looks down at him from the throne unbeatable. He wonders if his father felt the same way sitting here, if looking down on his people made him the King he was. He’s not sure if that’s what he wants, if his father’s footsteps are the best example he should follow. That is also a part of the reason he wishes for a Head Advisor change, ignoring the fact he certainly isn’t William’s biggest fan.

“Before we start talking about the coronation — Yes, I’d like to inform you of Princess’ messiness, and lack of responsibility,” William starts and Cheol already feels annoyed, locking eyes with Joshua, hoping he’ll somehow come and save him. “She doesn’t care of time and rather spends her time gossiping with her lady-in-waiting than focusing on things that matter.”

“Is that true?” Kaito asks, his eyes flickering between Seungcheol and William.

“Far from it,” Cheol disagrees. “She’s knowledgeable, she carries great responsibility and what might interest you the most — alliance with her father’s kingdom will be a great advantage for us at times of war. She is of four children, it is also expected for her to be quite fertile so we won’t have to worry about the future of Veloria,” he assures him, hoping it might ease his worries. Though, if he is honest, your fertility is far from his main concerns.

“If I may add,” Chan clears his throat. “She is well studied in politics, much more than all the other Princesses I’ve heard of. Her Royal Highness will only be a positive addition to the kingdom.”

Seungcheol smiles at his brother, giving him a small nod of approval before looking at Kaito and Seungkwan again. “What do you think?”

Seungkwan opens his mouth and closes it again, caught off guard. “I haven’t met Her Highness just yet,” he says, panicked. Seungcheol tilts his head, not very pleased with his response. He is studied, from what he heard he was always on top of his classes, but yet he can’t give his own opinion on a situation? “But from what I know of the Elowen family,” he continues quickly, noting the disappointment on Prince’s face. “Everything the Princes said is true. An alliance in the form of marriage would be great for us.”

That’s more to his liking. Seungcheol smiles, “I don’t think there’s more we need to discuss regarding our future Queen then. The coronation, shall we talk about it?”

William grits his teeth again, knowing this is a lost battle for him. He’s always been the powerful, the one controlling the King, it’s not right that he now gets tossed aside as if he wasn’t the reason the Veloria kingdom has been doing so good in the past few years. “Everything is up to speed,” he proclaims. “Lords and Ladies are coming together to see you on the throne.”

“Doctor Jeon has assured us His Majesty shall be ready to crown you,” Kaito adds. “We’ve been trying to help him get better but the truth is, once you become the new King, it’s most likely he will spend the rest of his time in bed.” The three Princes exchange a look, a silent understanding of what it means for them. Their people might be losing a King, but a King can be replaced. They are losing a father. And no matter how many flaws he’s had, it doesn’t change the fact that a family is dying.

But even then, the three of them can’t understand the great pain his wife has been feeling ever since he first got sick. She’s been by his side through it all, her soft cries filling the room every time the King sleeps. She believes they don’t know, that they don’t notice the pain she bears, but it’s hard not to. And every time Seungcheol sees her, he wants nothing more than to be there for her, be a shoulder to lean on in this wicked time. She might not be his biological mother, but she’s always treated him equal to her children, now he just wants to do the same for her.

“Has Her Majesty eaten anything today?” He blurts out instead of acknowledging what was said.

Kaito clears his throat, apology written all over his face as he looks back at the Prince. “She’s refusing to eat anything unless we find medicine for His Majesty. She stopped speaking to us, too, barely noticing anyone other than the King.” Seungcheol’s knuckles turn white as he grips his hand into a fist, controlling himself not to punch anything. At this point, she’ll die with the King.

“Ask the kitchen to make Her Majesty’s favorite. I’ll pay her a visit.”

The Princes are the only ones left in the room shortly after, their smiles fallen as they look at each other. They’ve studied plenty of things at the academy, but none of their subjects included how to behave when the Queen decides to go down with the King.

“I shall go with you,” Chan mumbles, his confidence low as he keeps his eyes down on his feet. Seungcheol hesitates. He has no right to refuse him. It is his mother after all, but a part of him feels like it’s something he should do on his own. The weight of the eldest son lays heavy on his shoulders, the urge to take all the pain from everyone he knows and bear it instead strong.

“Mind if I go alone this time?” It’s then that their eyes meet, the pain behind the younger’s eyes obvious. “I want to do this. Please, let me.”

“Lord Choi has been wanting to introduce us to some of his friends, he wants to go out to the pub in town tonight,” Joshua wraps his arm around the youngest’s shoulder, sending a reassuring smile towards his older brother. “I could definitely use a distraction, hm?” Chan sighs, a heavy breath that shows just how tired he is. Still, he nods, sending one more glance Cheol’s way before leaving.

The Prince’s back hits the cold throne, his head tilted to the ceiling as he collects his thoughts. He understands the Queen, the urge to be by her loved one when he is in pain. He’d do the same for all three of his siblings, sit with them through it all and try to convince himself it’ll all be okay.

The thought of being in his father’s position stings. When Joshua’s mother had gotten sick, his father didn’t even bat an eye. He sent for the best Doctors, but that was the limit of his care. Would it be the same for him? Would he find himself on his deathbed with no one by his side that would care if he gets better or not, all because he is marrying for power instead of love?

The walk to the King’s chamber is filled with dark thoughts as he makes his way through the halls. This is certainly not the mood he wants to be in before dealing with things but there’s nothing he can do to help it. He’ll have to deal with situations like this later on anyway. It’s only in his favor if he can get used to it before facing his people.

He doesn’t wait for an answer after knocking, coming in. His eyes immediately fall to the Queen, sitting on a damaged chair beside the bed, holding the King’s hand while he sleeps. She doesn’t notice him right away, her hair covering most of her face, her eyes glued to the sleeping man. She’s not even dressed properly, and hadn’t he known better, he wouldn’t have guessed it was the Queen of Veloria in front of him.

Cheol clears his throat, waiting at the door until she looks up and meets his eyes. She quickly wipes away her tears and fixes her hair, putting on her best smile. “Seungcheol,” she greets him, her voice welcoming despite everything.

He smiles at her as well but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Kyong,” he greets her back, stepping forward until he reaches her and placing the trail with her favorite meal between her and the King, hoping his father doesn’t wake up all of a sudden and throw the food to the ground as he turns.

“I’ve already eaten but I’ve heard you haven’t had anything.”

“Oh,” even the little breath she lets out sounds guilty. It truly pains him to see her like this. It’s as if she were just as sick as his father. “I’ll eat later, son.”

“Then I’ll keep you company in the meantime,” he nods, his voice quiet. She averts her eyes from him, glancing briefly at the food before looking at her husband again.

“He’s been sleeping all day,” she informs him and Seungcheol hums. “It’s been like this a lot lately.”

“I’ve been told he is getting better? That he will be okay for the coronation?” She doesn’t answer, biting her bottom lip. He doesn’t push her for an answer either, knowing how hard it must be on her. The Queen looks up again, meeting his eyes.

“Tell me, how is the Elowen family?”

He leans against one of the dressers on the side to be more comfortable, “They all seem nice,” he says simply and she rolls her eyes.

“Your future Queen. How is she?” There is a hopeful smile on her face as she speaks and it hits him more than anything today.

“She’s smart,” he assures her. “Pretty, and she loves our gardens.”

“Then your mother would have approved of her,” she nods. It’s rather rare that people in the kingdom talk about his mother. A lot of the things he’d heard throughout his childhood weren’t painting her in the best light, but Kyong has never spoken ill of her. She always did her best so Cheol could meet her through her stories, since he didn’t have the chance to do so before she died.

“It’s a political marriage, don’t think too much into it,” he shakes his head.

“There are different levels to a political marriage, Seungcheol. Not all of them have to stay strictly professional.”

“I hope love will be in the cards for your son,” he answers simply with a smile as genuine as it can be.

“It is in your cards as much as it is in your siblings,” she assures him. “You are deserving of love, as much as anyone else is.” It’s his turn to stay quiet, unsure what to say to that. It’d be nice if that was true but honestly, it’s hard to believe when he thinks about the situation he is in.

“Look at your father,” she glances at the sleeping man, finally taking the trail of food from the bed. “He always thought the same, that he was meant for politics and was doomed to live through his people only. Now, look at us.”

“You are the exception, not the rule,” he reminds her but she simply shrugs, slowly digging into her food.

“Darling, you could easily make it into a rule.”

The words ring in his ears as he watches her eat, thinking about what she said. Deep down, he wishes he could be that lucky, that he could find someone to love, but he just can’t see it. Not now at least. Right now, he’ll be happy if he makes sure the Queen will eat her food well and stay with them for many more years, even if his father doesn’t stand by her side anymore.

Time seems to pass by faster than you can comprehend. It feels like you only blinked once and everything around changed. The palace is a mess, people coming in and out before you can properly learn their names, lords who don’t know why you’re here in the first place trying their chances to see if they could find their future wife, and all the servants panicking that nothing will be ready on time. Coronation is in two days.

One would think everything would be in place by now, all perfect for the future King of Veloria, but it’s far from it. If the palace is one thing, it’s disorganized. You had to learn that the hard way. You know you can’t blame Seungcheol, not when he’s barely gotten a taste of ruling yet. And not when you haven’t even gotten a chance to speak with him since the dinner with your families passed.

You understand that he is busy, deep down you know it has nothing to do with you, but you wish you could see your future husband more.

You’ve met once in the last two weeks. It had been over breakfast, when your father asked him to join your family so they could discuss the plans for forthcoming events together. You only managed to exchange two words with him before your mother took you and your siblings outside so the men could decide over your future. You can’t say you’d be surprised. It’s been like this your entire life. If anything, you’re pleased they let you finish eating before having you leave.

In a way, it’s nice not having to worry about anything. You spent the last two weeks in the gardens, accompanied by Taehyun or Mingyu. Unlike Taehyun, Mingyu fell into a comfortable rhythm with you much quicker. While Taehyun has always wanted to keep boundaries, making sure he wouldn't overstep, Mingyu had engaged in a chat with you as soon as you met him.

You later learned it was because he doesn’t have many worries about losing his position. His family has been working for the royal family for centuries, and it turns out, he and your future husband are quite close. Ever since you found out, you had to bite back your tongue not to ask him about Prince Seungcheol. About how he really is like outside of all the duties, without the (soon not so much) imaginary crown on his head, about his hobbies and biggest dreams.

You doubt he’d even tell you if you did ask.

Mingyu isn’t the only friend you’ve made during your stay, though. You’ve met plenty of interesting people like the royal teacher, a few of Veloria’s best scholars, and incredible ladies-in-waiting that had sworn to you their honesty and pure heart — even though you’re unsure if it wasn’t all for them to get closer to the Prince. You heard about ladies-in-waiting that had later become the King’s company back home, but you never wanted to believe it to be true. Why marry if you want to keep meeting new women?

But the most interesting of them weren’t the ladies or lords, it was the young gardener you found yourself spending every day with. You’ve seen the look on Taehyun’s face when you first got into a chat with Soobin, but it wasn’t like that. You’d be foolish to look at the gardener as anything more than a friend who shares the same interest in flowers as you. Especially when you already have a Prince courting you.

“Have you heard of the new flower the Amberielle kingdom has in their gardens?” You ask, watching as he waters the lilies around you.

“I have not, Your Highness,” he admits, barely sparing you a glance. Every morning, when he sees you coming down to the gardens, he feels like throwing up.

Not because your presence might bother him, in fact he is well aware he should be grateful for a Princess sharing her free time with him, but the look your guards give him every time he chats with you scares him. As aware as he is of his luck, he is also aware how easy it’d be for the King to get him killed if he does something he doesn’t like. And Soobin would be a fool to let his head be cut off for something he never meant to do.

“Really? I’ve read about it in the books Taehyun brought for me from the library,” you look at the guard beside you, giving him one of your thankful smiles. His lips don’t even twitch though, making you scoff. You thought he might have cracked after all this time but it seems like you’re still where you were when you first arrived.

“I see,” Soobin mumbles, locking eyes with the guard before looking down at the ground again. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go take care of… things,” he blurts out and you frown, sensing the lie on his lips. It’s weird. Some days, he has no problem spending all afternoon talking to you about the gardens or hobbies, and then others he shuts down like this, refusing to talk to you about anything. You want to ask him about it, question his behavior, but before you can do so, he is off, leaving you alone with Taehyun.

You sigh, turning to face the guard. “What shall we do then?” He opens his mouth to answer — probably to tell you to go back to your chambers and not step a foot out, you assume — but before he can do so, another guard interrupts him.

“Your Highness, His Royal Highness is looking to speak to you.”

You recognize Mingyu’s voice, taking a step to the side so you can see both of them. You narrow your eyes as you watch him, blinking a few times before nodding, telling him to lead the way. You haven’t spoken to him in days and now he wishes to bless you with his presence? You don’t see a reason why. But then again, coronation is in two days. And you are to be the Queen of Veloria.

Mingyu doesn’t tell you what it’s about as he leads you through the chambers to the crown room, Taehyun right behind you. You walk in silence, silence that you don’t like. It makes you feel weird, like you are in some sort of trouble. It makes you feel like a little girl all over again, walking the path of shame as the guards lead you to your parents to humiliate you and complain how irresponsible you are.

The memory makes you straighten your back, reminding yourself of everything your teacher taught you, remembering all the lessons you took so you wouldn’t feel like that little girl again. You’re a grown woman now, you tell yourself as you look ahead.

“Thank you, Mingyu,” Seungcheol smiles at the guard before looking your way. He sits on the King’s throne, confidence shining right through him. His hair is neat and so are his clothes. When you look at him, he truly looks like a King. “You can leave. I’d like to talk to the Princess alone.” Despite keeping his smile on and his calm demeanor, it’s a command, his voice ringing in your ears as the two guards leave, followed by another two guards who were looking after the Prince until now.

“You wanted to see me?”

He nods, standing up from the throne and walking over to the large window in the room. You tilt your head confusedly before deciding to join his side, standing awkwardly beside him and looking down at the people. “I’ve heard you’ve been in our gardens more often.”

“Oh,” you snap out of your thoughts and glance up at him. “I have,” you agree. “As you know, I find them beautiful. The flowers calm my mind.”

“Are you sure it’s the flowers that calm your mind?” He asks, turning his head towards you. The moment your eyes lock, you feel something hit you. A wave, spark maybe. You’re not sure. But you feel it, you swear you do. You stumble over your words, your cheeks heating up as you gaze into his eyes.

“Uhm— Excuse me?”

He sighs, breaking eye contact again and looking out towards the gardens. “I’ve also heard you’ve been talking to the gardener,” he admits. “Soobin?”

Now you’re even more confused. What does he have to do with anything? “Are you accusing me of something, my Prince?”

He doesn’t answer immediately, avoiding your eyes. You eye him confusedly, frowning. This is definitely not a topic of conversation your parents or teacher would approve of, but what are you supposed to do when he started it?

“I mean it’s understandable,” he clears his throat. What is? He makes no sense to you. “It makes sense to look for another in your position, I know that, but my lady,” he faces you again, his eyes stern. “You need to be careful with things like these. It’d be a great betrayal to both of our kingdoms if anyone saw you two together. Not to mention that due to his rank, it’d do him no favor. We would have to call off the wedding and it’d be especially hard for your father to arrange another one for you.”

“I don’t–” you shake your head. “What are you talking about, Prince?” He tilts his head, trying to read you with his eyes.

“What I’m meaning to say, you shall not be seen with him in public.”

“Why shall I not?” You push further, trying to make sense of this conversation. It’s confusing, Prince Seungcheol is confusing. It feels like he is talking in riddles, making you guess every word of his. And so far, you’re in no luck at solving the code.

“Have you not heard a word I just said?”

“I have, my Prince. I simply don’t understand.”

You’re not entirely sure if he is annoyed or confused as he takes the sight of you in. You can tell that he is thinking about something, going over what he is going to say next in his head. You tilt your head to the side, looking up at him. “Soobin, the gardener, aren’t you sharing a bed with him?”

Your eyes widen, realization from what he is accusing you of hitting you. You stumble back, your ears red from embarrassment and anger. How could he think so little of you? You’re a noble woman, a Princess, raised by the best teachers in the Elowen kingdom. How dare he even think you weren’t taught what even just being alone with a man would do to your reputation. And share a bed with someone you’re not married to? Heaven forbid.

Your name slips past his lips without any titles and you just shake your head, stepping away from the window. “It was nice chatting with you, Your Royal Highness, but I shall get back to my chamber. My ladies-in-waiting are waiting for me so we can have our afternoon tea.”

You try to leave the room but as soon as you open the large door Seungcheol’s hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you from leaving. You swallow hard, trying to pay as little attention to it as possible. You lock eyes with Taehyun and he shifts uncomfortably, his eyes flickering between you and the Prince. You don’t even want to know what he is thinking, worried he’d accuse you of the same thing the Prince did. How could you be so foolish? You know what rumors like this could do to you and your family.

“Give us another moment, we aren’t done talking yet,” Seungcheol says towards the guards, his eyes softening when he looks at you again, begging you to stay. You avert your eyes from him, thinking about all your options. You need to take care of this problem, and you need to do it fast. Daniela will know what to do. You need to go see her.

“I think we are done,” you argue but he doesn’t let go of your hand.

“Just two more minutes, Princess.” You bite back everything you wanted to say next. You are a weak, weak girl, you realize.

“I no longer shall be talking with you alone,” you say instead, doing the next best thing you can think of. He hesitates, finally dropping his hand to his side.

“Of course,” he mumbles. “Mingyu, may you?”

You find yourself behind closed doors again, this time not only with Seungcheol but his friend as well. You’d prefer it a lot more if the door stayed open but you know you’d be asking for too much then. Thankfully, you can blame this conversation on discussing important political matters not even the guards can hear of if anyone asks you why you were alone with the Prince.

“Your Highness?” You question awkwardly, looking at your feet.

“I didn’t mean to imply,” he apologizes, stepping closer to you. You let him, for now. “I’m well aware of your status, and what those accusations mean to you. I just—” he hesitates, waiting for you to look at him again. You do, doing your best to stay calm. “I just wanted to make sure you knew seeking pleasure was normal in situations like ours.”

“Pleasure?” You question, offended. “How am I supposed to find any pleasure in this, Your Highness? Pleasure in this chaos? In worries of what other people might think of me and my family? How is there any kind of pleasure in that?” You snap, deciding to forget about his title and the manners you should respect towards him.

Mingyu clears his throat but doesn’t get involved in your conversation any further, and honestly, you forget he’s even standing there. “I meant– different kind of pleasure,” he sighs, the longer he stares into your eyes the more realizing how wrong he’s got this. You watch the embarrassment settle on his face, but you’re certain it’s not as bad as the one you feel. “Forget it,” he blurts out. “I didn’t realize you don’t—”

“I don’t, what?”

“Understand.”

Your frown deepens, and for the first time since you closed the door behind you you look at the guard standing a few steps behind the Prince. He is clearly avoiding your eyes, making it clear he doesn’t wish to be a part of this conversation or help you in any way.

“Then help me understand,” you say, trying not to get mad when he shakes his head. Seriously? He wants to blame you for losing your dignity and then not even explain himself?

“We shall not be talking about this,” he says almost like an apology, taking a step back again. “I’m sorry, my lady.”

You scoff, tapping your feet against the wooden floor lightly as you watch him. “Alright,” you finally speak again. “Can you at least tell me why you thought so of me? What led you to the impression?”

“I read the situation wrong,” he says instead of answering your question. You want to argue further, tell him that that’s not what you’re asking him and demand explanation, but Mingyu joins your side before you can do any of that, giving you one of his smiles, pointing towards the door with his hand.

“Shall we, Your Highness? Your ladies must be impatient waiting for you.” You hum, glancing at Seungcheol one last time before walking away with the guard.

“My Prince, you wound me.”

Seungcheol turns on his bed, frowning even in his sleep.

“You could have made it a rule.”

The image he sees isn’t to his liking. The Queen, sitting beside his dead father, holding his hand as tears run down her face. She’s devastated. But it’s not her husband’s death that puts her in such depression. It’s when she looks at him, the oldest son of the Veloria kingdom, that it all comes crashing down — the disappointment, the anger, the regret.

No. He can’t bear seeing her like that. If she feels disappointed in him as well, then what is he supposed to do? He can’t rule, he can’t lead his people. He’ll only make them miserable. As miserable as he’s made the Queen. Bad things have always followed him, how else is he supposed to explain his mother dying during birth? It was always his fault, and he was now going to lead his people into failure as well.

He turns around on his bed again, trying to chase the image away. The last thing he should be thinking about is how big of a failure he is the night of his coronation. But the picture isn’t any better on the other side.

He dreams of you, in the same pink dress you wore to the dinner with your parents. You look crushed, your eyes watery as you look up at him, hiding an incredible amount of pain behind them. It hits him harder than he thought it could, his eyes widening as he quickly tries to cup your cheeks and brush your tears away. But he can’t. His hands go right through you. He can’t hold you. He can’t help. All he can do is watch you suffer because of him, watch you cry and yell at him, regret ever meeting him.

“I thought we could have an understanding, my Prince.”

It’s not truly you talking to him, it’s his own conscience, he knows that — or maybe he just hopes that’s the case — but it doesn’t change the fact your words hit him hard. It feels like you just pulled his heart out of his chest and twisted it between your fingers. He opens his mouth to assure you it will be okay, that he can make this okay again, but no words come out.

His eyes snap open, his breathing heavy as he stares at the dark wall in front of him. A dream, he reminds himself. That’s all this was. He closes his eyes again, hiding his face in his hands with a groan. Taking a deep breath, he drops his hands down, stepping out from under his blanket.

It’s still dark outside but he doesn’t feel like going back to sleep anytime soon. Taking down his pajama pants, he changes into his outdoor garments, leaving his room before anyone can notice. It’s not like he wouldn’t be able to leave whenever he wants, but he is sure any good servant would report it to the first guard they’d find and they would insist on staying with him. And honestly, he doesn’t feel like sharing the place with anyone else at the moment.

For the first time in what feels like ages, it’s quiet as he walks through the palace. The night sky is filled with stars shining above his head, his steps light as he walks through the gardens, taking his time with taking in the sight until he finally reaches his destination — the same place he first met you.

He stares ahead, unsure why he came here in the first place. It’s not like his dreams mean anything, and this place definitely doesn’t either. Yet, he can’t seem to move and walk away now that he is here. He turns around, enjoying the peace as looking at his surroundings. He can see your chamber from here, he realizes. It’s dark in your room, as it should be this early in the morning. The only light in the palace is coming from the kitchen, everyone busy preparing for the coronation, he assumes.

The coronation.

He should get back to his room, sleep as much as he can before the maid comes to wake him up, and pray everything goes well today. He still hesitates, his eyes glued to your window. It’s hard to hide his worries but he does his best, burying the memory of his dream deep inside. For now, that should be enough. How he’ll react when he sees you again later today is a different story, though.

♡⸝⸝

Despite the earlier panic all throughout the palace, everything is ready and set on time. Seungcheol smiles as he greets lords and ladies, engaging in a small talk with them. The walls are lined with guards everywhere, all of them focused on their job and nothing else. Which is likely also why he didn’t have a chance to speak with Mingyu yet. He was hoping for some reassurance from his best friend before it all comes crashing down, but for now, Joshua’s words will have to do.

“Look at you,” Kyong’s voice interrupts him, his eyes softening as he apologizes to lord Kim before glancing at the Queen. “You look beautiful,” she tells him, her hand wrapping around his biceps, giving a reassuring squeeze.

“I could say the same about you,” he takes in the sight of her, her dress deep purple and her hair falling in soft waves. This is the Queen he remembers raising him. The woman who stood by him and showed him manners as well as fun.

He feels proud. He is well aware how foolish that might sound. He is the one gaining power over the kingdom, it is his day, and yet, it’s not himself he is proud of. It’s the woman who has pulled through her spouse’s illness so she could be present for his big day.

“Father is coming in,” Joshua jumps into the conversation, fixing his uniform. He wears the same navy blue as the crown Prince, minus all the gold that lines him. Seungcheol clears his throat, nodding.

“I should go then, wait for the council to welcome everyone so we can begin.” They both nod to him and Joshua offers his arm to the Queen, walking with her to their designated place.

Seungcheol watches as the Queen takes a seat on her own throne besides the King, her smile wide but her eyes bearing the pain she’s hiding all day. The ceremonial robe the council made him wear looks heavy on him, and every part of the Prince worries if his father will be okay. It’s only once he sees him hold the Queen’s hand in his, looking at her like it’ll all be okay, that he leaves the throne room.

The noises all calm down and he is certain he’ll hear every one of his steps when he comes back to the room. It’s weird, standing here, with everyone even slightly important waiting for him inside so they could watch the King put a crown on his head. A lot of Princes his age have been married off for years, but it feels too soon for him.

Trumpets ring through his ears and before he can properly prepare himself, the door opens in front of him, a guard on each side. He takes a deep breath, straightening his back as he walks through the empty aisle his people created for him. He keeps his eyes laser focused on his father, not trusting himself enough to look at his siblings.

He kneels in front of the King, his head down. He recognizes Kaito’s voice as he recites a few words on the side where everyone can see him. Seungcheol doesn’t look, though. He barely even registers his words, everything that’s said until his father starts speaking a blur.

He glances up, just for a moment to make sure he is okay before his eyes burn holes into the ground beneath him again. The King clears his throat before reciting an Oath, encouraging the crown Prince to look ahead. He does, meeting eyes with his father as he repeats his words. A few people whisper behind him but he can’t hear anything, anxiety creeping up his back that he might mess up or something might go wrong at the last minute. It’s almost as if he had some sort of a protection device on his head, everything tuned out. His ears buzz which is not amazing but he pushes through, watching the King raise from his seat.

“Today, in the name of the crown, it is a great honor to proclaim my son, Seungcheol, a rightful heir to the throne. May strength follow your every step, wisdom guide you through the rough times of a war, and mercy lead your people. Rule in times of sickness, rule in the honor of the great Kings who carried this crown before you.” He steps down from his throne, slow, controlled steps like the Doctor advised him before.

The golden crown is heavy on his head but it doesn’t stop him from rising up, towering over his father as he walks up, taking his rightful place on the throne. It’s only then that he properly looks into the crowd. Mingyu stands on the very right, a proud grin on his face unlike the other guards who keep a stern face. It makes him smile as well, the realization of how much this means finally settling in.

Lord Choi stands on the left side, close to the royal family, a pretty lady on his arm. It makes him think of you, of you in his dream, of your pretty eyes and lips he’s thought about more times throughout the day than he’d like to admit. He scans the room once more until his eyes finally land on your figure, standing at the front with your family, a smile on your face as you bow down along with the rest of his people. His people.

Your pastel purple dress shines in the room. It might not be to everyone else, but it does to him. He isn’t sure why, why your presence in the midst of strangers feels like a soft light that peeks through the blinds in the morning, or why he sees your smile even as he closes his eyes, but it matters to him.

“Long live the King!” Someone in the crowd yells, making his serious demeanor crack, a laugh escaping his lips.

“Please,” he interrupts before the crowd can start celebrating, his eyes meeting Mingyu’s from across the room, a quiet thank you in his smile as it is his voice he recognized. “Before celebrations begin and all our doors open for you, I’d like to make a statement.”

As if the atmosphere wasn’t serious enough until now, everyone quiets down, nervously glancing around. He sees you do the same, trying to ask your father what’s going on. “My father was a great leader, one that got us through important battles and made sure his people would be taken care of,” Seungcheol looks at him, noticing his struggle as he tries to hold a cough in. Alright, quicker it is.

“It wasn’t just his work, though, which is also why I’d like to thank William,” he turns to the Head Advisor standing beside the throne. William smiles at the people, awkward as he has no idea what the new King of Veloria plans to say. “You did an amazing job helping my father. And I, as your King, grant you the honor of retirement.” He watches as his eyes widen, panic rushing through his entire face. “Instead,” he looks at the crowd below him again. “I’d like to name a new Head Advisor for the crown. Seungkwan, could you take William’s place?”

Whispers run through the room, filling his ears as he watches the scholar nervously step in front of him, a quiet thank you on his lips before he joins William’s side. “I trust his judgment to the fullest. And I can assure you, our kingdom will only grow with us.” It’s only then that he decides to step down, his shoulders tense as he joins the lords and ladies below. It creates a smile on Seungcheol’s face. Finally, finally, he’s got him right where he’s wanted him for what feels like ages — under him, with no power to rule over him.

He looks to his side, taking in the approving smiles of his brothers before everyone cheers, the room much louder than before. The throne room slowly clears out, everyone rushing to get to the great hall where the banquet for celebrations is hosted. Seungcheol stays in place, watching others leave before he allows a heavy sign to leave his lips.

It’s also then that his father grabs onto the first thing he can — which happens to be Chan’s arm as he rushes to help him — the coughs he kept in this entire time finally leaving his lips. “Let’s get you back to bed,” the former Queen coos, trying to remain calm.

“Will you be at the banquet?” her daughter asks, hope in her voice. It hurts, seeing the most important people in his life this low. He can read his sister perfectly, the way she misses her mother and simply wishes to spend some time with her. But he can read Kyong just as well, all the pain she bears, the tears she hides from her children in order not to worry them.

“We’ll see, darling,” she smiles, unable to tell her no right away. Seungcheol sees right through it but doesn’t say anything, calling Mingyu over instead to help them get back to their chamber without anyone noticing.

“Will he be okay?” His sister asks as they leave the room, looking up at her three older brothers. Seungcheol meets her eyes, his heart breaking in pieces. He’s never wanted anything other than happiness for her. He’d fight for her to get anything she wants, just a word and he’d do it. But what he cannot do for her is lie, look her in the eyes and promise her it will all go back to how it was, with everyone healthy and smiley.

Learning about his father’s illness hasn’t fully hit him until today. It all seemed like something impossible. How could his father, the same man who was always the strongest leader he knew, fail the bottle with sickness?

“The Doctors’ got him,” Joshua assures her when no one speaks, squeezing her shoulder. She smiles up at him, placing her hand on top of his. She believes him, of course she does. Why wouldn’t she believe it when her big brother tells her it will be okay? Seungcheol closes his eyes, unable to watch it any longer. Taking a deep breath, he turns around to the guards left near the walls.

“Can someone accompany my sister to the banquet?”

Two guards step forward without saying anything and the King nods, motioning for them to walk out with her. “You’ll all attend though, right? I won’t be there alone?”

“It’s to celebrate my coronation, you seriously think I could miss it?” Seungcheol turns to her again with a smile. She nods, visibly less tense now. The room stays quiet, all three of the Princes watching her leave the room.

Seungcheol sighs, plopping down on his throne as soon as the door closes behind her, finally relaxing. It feels like the first time he can breathe since he stepped into the room. “Are you alright?” Joshua worries, taking in the sight of his new King. It’s safe to say he looks exhausted. “Are you sure you can attend a banquet right now?”

“Do I have a choice?” It’s a rhetorical question. They all know what kinds of things would be said if he didn’t show up. He would lose his people before even gaining their trust. “Plus, not only do I need to speak with the council and entertain people, I should also speak with the Elowen family. I owe it to them after not being with them at all during their stay.”

“How’s the Princess?” Chan wonders, shifting uncomfortably in his uniform. It’s understandable, the robe they made him wear looks much heavier than what he’s used to.

“Good,” Cheol shrugs, but his mind drifts off to your standing in the crowd earlier. To your bow, to your pretty eyes focused on him as he named his new Head Advisor. He hopes you liked the ceremony. The thought makes him pause, confusing obvious on his face. His younger brothers raise their eyebrows, both of them having the same question looks on their faces. “We haven’t spoken much. But as we all know, she’ll be a great addition to the kingdom,” he assures them, the same words he said days prior to the council.

“Why not get to know her better?”

“We are not to be lovers,” he reminds them. But as soon as the words leave his mouth, it feels wrong. “She’s a political addition to the kingdom,” he continues, quickly pushing aside all the thoughts about you that appear in his head. “Unlike you two, I don’t have much of a choice.”

A hint of resentment appears behind Joshua’s eyes as the words leave his mouth but he doesn’t pay it any attention, figuring he’s just imagining things. “I don’t know, I think I’d like not having to worry if I find a wife on my own or not,” Chan comments with a shrug. “Doesn’t it make it all easier?”

Seungcheol hesitates as he looks at his brothers. “I guess it does,” he finally says, trying to read the look behind Joshua’s eyes. The longer he looks at him, the more he begins believing what he saw wasn’t just a figment of his imagination. Maybe a part of Joshua actually resents him. Which only leads him to another question — why?

“Shall we go?” Joshua brings the eldest out of his thoughts. There’s a smile on his lips as he asks, making Cheol’s eyes narrow. He doesn’t say anything though, nodding as he stands up again, following his brothers and the rest of the guards into the great hall.

“Wasn’t that beautiful?” Your mother asks as she sits in her seat. You smile immediately, the memory of Seungcheol finally getting his crown clear in your head. You feel proud, the smile you carry as genuine as it can be. You might have only spoken to him on a few occasions, but you know he is deserving of his role, despite the disagreement you had a few days ago.

“It was nice,” your father hums back.

“I think the coronation was amazing,” you proclaim, not noticing you’re interrupting your father. Thankfully, he doesn’t say anything, letting you talk freely.

“What about you, Nari? What did you think?” Your mother glances over at your younger sister.

She straightens her back as soon as all eyes are on her, clearing her throat before speaking. “The ceremony was beautiful, mother,” she nods, her politeness ringing in your ears. You wouldn’t say you were a bad student, but she’s certainly always cared more about growing into the beautiful, diligent, humble ladies you were raised to be. In a sense, you admire her for it. You’re confident she won’t have any trouble finding her future husband on her own, hopefully one who loves her dearly. “Brother and sister told me the same before the nanny took them back to our chamber,” she adds and your parents nod.

“And what did you think of the Princes? Aren’t they good looking?”

“Mama!” You whisper-yell. “Nari is seventeen.”

“Maybe it was our fault we didn’t look for a husband for you earlier. If we had, you could have been long married with children running around,” your father comments, sipping on the prepared champagne in front of him.

You open your mouth to argue, tell them it wasn’t a mistake that they waited until you were twenty five as you still had a lot of developing to do and things to wrap your head around, but before you can say any of it, your sister speaks again, “Looks certainly run in the Veloria family.”

“You shall ask your future husband if his brothers aren’t looking for a wife,” your mother encourages you.

“Of course,” you smile back at her, knowing you definitely won’t. You’d rather lose your parents’ trust than set up your seventeen year old sister with a man older than you.

You sit quietly after, listening to your parents talk about how pleased they are with the Veloria kingdom and the new King, reminding you how lucky you are to be chosen by him. Nari sometimes joins the conversation when asked to, but for most of it, she sits just as quietly as you.

That is, until a lord approaches your table. He bows with his right hand pressed to his heart, introducing himself as Lord Nishimura. He isn’t from around here, that much you can tell. “I hope I’m not intruding on an important conversation,” he apologizes, eyes locked onto your parents. He quickly glances at you and your sister before continuing. “I’d like to ask your daughter for a dance, if you allow.”

Narrowing your eyes, you scan his figure. He can’t be over the age of twenty, his eyes full of the same young energy you see in your eight year old brother. He extends his hand to your sister and you watch as her eyes flicker to your parents, waiting for their approval. Your mother nods with a smile and Nari’s eyes fill with excitement, placing her hand in his and leaving with him to join the other lords and ladies dancing in the center of the room.

You bite back everything you wish to say, knowing you can’t go against your parents’ methods. You’d be a fool to start a disagreement with them, especially when you are in public. You’ll just have to hope they won’t decide to go down the path of wedding their undeveloped daughter.

Your mother clears her throat after sharing a glance with her husband, causing you to look at her. “Don’t you feel like dancing tonight, darling? It’s a big day for us just as much as for the Veloria family after all,” she mentions and you know exactly where she’d be heading with it.

“You’re right,” you agree, forcing a smile. “I shall join the others.”

Your parents watch you with a smile as you leave the table but you know it’s as forced as your own. It makes you feel weird, something in your stomach makes you uneasy. You always loved your parents and believed the relationship you had with them was strong, but ever since you learned they arranged a marriage for you, it was as if it all shifted. All of a sudden, your afternoon tea conversations with your mother weren’t about the books you got your hands on lately or your interests but about preparations for the wedding and questions about your future husband.

Frankly, it all made you feel small, like you were stuck between four walls with no doors or windows. It began to be harder to breathe freely around them, everything crashing down on you. The bond you thought you always had with your mother was weakening with each day spent together, and you found yourself in the Veloria gardens more than not.

It was easy to escape from everything and focus on the nice things. You don’t have the heart to face the fact that your and your mother’s relationship might not be as great as you thought it was, if you’re honest.

You decide to stay near one of the tables, this one decorated with a chocolate fountain and all kinds of fruits you could think of. Most of the nobles are dancing in the center or chatting at their respective tables, keeping your surroundings quiet. Which is exactly what you needed, a quiet peace of mind to let you forget about your parents and their meddling.

Scanning the room, a part of you feels disappointed when you can’t find a certain King who you’ve been wanting to talk to ever since leaving the throne room two days ago. You understand he has other things to take care of before joining the banquet but that doesn’t stop you from wondering when he’ll turn up. He is your future husband after all, you can wonder about his whereabouts.

Your mind drifts to your conversation two days ago, to the memory of his dark eyes gazing into yours. Biting the inside of your cheek, you do your best not to think about the possibilities of where he might be, what he might be doing. If the roles were reversed, and you’d be the one who still hasn’t shown, the rumors would start before you could blink.

Being a woman is lovely, and with every inch of your body, you appreciate everything you have, but the difference between women and men in this society is far too obvious. You watched your youngest sister’s interest in weaponry fade away as she was pushed into afternoon tea she never liked and dressing up to her age while your brother got to be taught in said area despite being only eight years old.

“My lady.” You turn to the side upon hearing a man’s voice, smiling out of politeness.

“My lord,” you drop into a small courtesy. “Have you tried the mango yet? It’s delicious,” you motion towards the fruit besides you, his eyes following yours.

“Not yet,” he shakes his head. “The fruits do look great,” he agrees before meeting your eyes again. “But I came over because someone else looks much more beautiful.”

Your cheeks catch a hint of pink as you thank him, averting your eyes to the floor beneath you. “Thank you, lord…” you pause, realizing you didn’t quite catch his name.

“Lord Song,” he finishes for you with a small bow. “My apologies for not introducing myself sooner.” You shake your head, introducing yourself as well.

“Elowen?” He questions and you watch him mentally place your kingdom on a map. “What brings you here from so far away?” You hesitate, knowing you can’t just proclaim you’re marrying the King of Veloria all of a sudden. He only became the King an hour ago, it’s too early to announce a marriage for the throne.

“What else? The beautiful coronation we watched earlier. My family came to show our support to the future King, just like everyone else in this room.”

He hums back, watching you with a smile. You feel his eyes all over you, taking in the sight of you. You do look gorgeous tonight, the maids and Daniela made sure you would, and you feel extremely thankful to them. But you’re just as thankful when you hear Lady Avanzini’s voice as she joins your side. “Your Highness, could I steal you for a moment?”

You glance between her and the lord in front of you, nodding. You drop into a small courtesy again as you excuse yourself before following Daniela away. “Where are we heading?” You ask, taking your chance and looking around the room for the King.

“You looked like you needed some saving, my lady,” she says simply, making a soft laugh bubble out of you as you shake your head at her.

“Our conversation wasn’t as bad as it might have looked like.”

She stops in her tracks, turning around to face you. “Would you have rather I left you alone?” Your eyes soften as you shake your head again in a silent no. She smiles, “see, Princess? I know what you need at all times.” She looks proud of herself as she leads you into another quiet corner of the room, staying by your side and watching the banquet unfold.

“Have you happened to see the King?” You whisper towards her without taking your eyes from the nobles dancing, hoping that by some miracle you might find him in the midst of them.

“I did,” she nods. “He was speaking with a few gentlemen at their table. His brother was with him.” The mention of the younger Prince brings back memories of your earlier conversation with your parents, a heavy sigh leaving your lips.

“Don’t remind me of any of the Princes. My mother is hoping one of them might be interested in our Nari,” you tell her, voice low enough for only her to hear. Her eyes widen and she turns to you, looking for any sign of it being a joke. When she doesn’t find any, she laughs either way.

“I saw the youngest Prince eyeing at least five different ladies already, and the second born is nowhere to be found. I think we both know what that means.”

You tilt your head to the side, blinking confusedly. What does that mean? “A lady?” Your eyes widen, realization settling in. Of course. You were worried about the King seeing another woman just moments earlier when you couldn’t find him but it didn’t even occur to you his brothers could be doing the same. But why hide his relationship when there isn’t a different lady waiting to marry him?

Maybe you’re too used to the love stories you read about. It seems easy to you. He’s a Prince, he could have anyone in the country he wishes to, so why not just ask the King for a blessing to a marriage?

“Oh how I wish I could sneak away from this ball with someone as well,” Daniela sighs, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“Why?”

“Because, my lady, I’m dying to feel a man’s hands on me.” Your eyes widen as the words reach your ears, panic rushing through you. You quickly look around to make sure no one else heard her, that no one could spread something so scandalous about your closest friend. “What?” She laughs, as if she couldn’t understand your worries. She should have, she should know just how much it means for a woman to say or do something that could ruin her reputation. “Don’t tell me you can’t relate, Princess.”

You quickly shake your head, refusing anything even slightly close to what she’s implying. “I have not, and shall never, agree to anything this incriminating.” You watch as something flickers behind her eyes, understanding maybe. You’re not quite sure, frankly.

With a simple smile, she straightens her back again and looks into the crowd, leaving you to think about the interaction on your own. “Look, His Majesty is…in the middle of the crowd of ladies there,” she points out and you take a second to even register what she said before following her eyes.

Finally, after what feels like forever, you see the man you’ve been looking for for so long. Only, he happens to be surrounded by ladies from all around and their mothers, chatting. You can only assume it has something to do with the fact Veloria now has a single King, who by all the rules you both grew up with, should be looking for a wife to consume an heir for him. If it wasn’t for your already existing arrangement, you’re certain your mother would be standing in the crowd as well, trying to list all the good qualities you have.

There's a smile on his face as he speaks, and you can't figure out if it's simply a politeness or if he's enjoying himself. Despite knowing how selfish it sounds, you hope it's simply politeness. You wish you could look at him and not feel any sign of anxiety and sadness when you see him like this, but the truth is, you ended up caring about him more than you thought would coming here. And with every one of the glances you share together, you feel your heart aching.

He doesn't notice you, his eyes kept on the group around him. You catch the sight of Chan behind him, but he doesn't get as much attention as his older brother. You find yourself wishing they'd pay more attention to the single one of the brother's. Even though you can't say Seungcheol would be yours to claim, he don't want him exploring his opinions either.

“Anything on your mind, my lady?” Daniela teases, making you take your eyes off him. You shake your head no, but you're lying. There's a lot on your mind, and the new King of Veloria happens to be the center of every one of your thoughts. “Really? Because I think His Majesty is on his way to dance.” Your eyes snap back to him as soon as her words reach you, jealousy rushing through your veins. You know you shouldn't feel like this, you made peace with love not being in your cards a long time ago, but you can't help it. You can't help the way you feel, and when you see Seungcheol's hand hold another lady, it feels like your entire world breaks into pieces right in front of your eyes.

“I see,” you mumble, your voice barely above a whisper. “Do you know her? Who she is?”

“I'll have to disappoint you, my lady,” she apologizes. “I haven't seen her before. There is many foreign faces tonight.” You hum in response, unable to take your eyes off him. Daniela seems to notice your distress, taking your hand in hers and forcing you to avert your eyes. “Look over there, there's your little sister,” she points to the other side of the crowd, your eyes landing on a different beautiful lady this time. Nari's greed dress makes her eyes stand out, and you understand why lord Nishimura can't take his eyes away. Now that you look at them from afar, they do look nice.

But as gorgeous as your sister is, it only reminds you of the girl Seungcheol is dancing with more. She's in a beautiful pink dress, decorated with gold details, her hair is up, styled into a bun. A few brown strands line her cheeks, and without needing to look their way again, you know she has a beautiful smile as well.

A song goes by, maybe two, you're not sure. You keep your eyes on your sister, her laugh bubbling in your ears despite her being on the other side of the room. It's pleasing, seeing her have so much fun. Maybe she'll join you on other balls as well, and your only company won't be Daniela — despite the fact you love her with your whole heart — anymore.

You focus on the music and chatters around instead, slowly calming down again. You don't think about the King, the laddies dancing with him, or your earlier chat with Daniela. You just shut it all out, enjoying the moment as much as you can.

At least until you catch Lord Song approaching you again. Daniela tries stepping forward quickly, but you hold her hand, smiling as you wait for the lord to approach. There isn't any need for her to save you again. If Seungcheol can dance with other ladies while you stand in the corner and watch, why wouldn't you be able to have a little fun as well? There is no harm in a dance. And despite only thinking about Seungcheol as Lord Song asks you for a dance, you are determined to enjoy yourself.

You hold his hand, imagining it's someone else' gloved hand leading you through the crowd, someone else' deep eyes watching you as you stand opposite each other, and someone else reminding you how incredible you look tonight. You feel bad, using Lord Song so you could get your mind off your future husband dancing with different women — even though it's not working well.

“Have you heard anything worth mentioning tonight, Princess?” He asks, his eyes locked onto yours as you dance side by side, your hands facing each other but not quite touching.

“I don't pay much attention to gossip, my lord,” you answer, pushing aside the memory of Daniela's earlier words. You still can't believe she'd say something like that, in a public place on top of it all. You don't understand, no matter how much you ponder over it, you can't seem to find a reason, a meaning, for her need.

“What do you pay attention to, then?” He tilts his head slightly. It's a cute motion. And he seems genuinely interested, so you allow yourself to talk.

“There's many — flowers, literature, especially poetry,” you speak with a smile, letting yourself daydream for a while.

“What about your favorites, Princess?”

You open your mouth, ready to tell him all about your favorite flowers and books, when the dance comes to an sudden end, Lord Song stopping mid step and dropping into a bow. You blink confusedly, glancing behind you to see what startled him so much. His Majesty. Your eyes widen and you quickly drop into a courtesy, wondering what he's doing here, beside you, knowing well just a minute ago, he was still in the middle of the dance.

Despite your attempts to ignore his presence and keep your eyes on the lord dancing with you, every now and then, when you got the chance, your eyes would wander to him, checking where he is and who he is with. He was with a different lady than the one you saw him first with the last time you checked. Her dress was red, and her hair blond. You wonder which one of them he found more attractive.

“What brings you here, Your Majesty?” You dare to speak first, his eyes moving from the man next to you when he hears your voice. A chuckle tugs on his lips and it doesn't take you long to figure out it's because of the title you are using. He asked you to not be so formal with him before, but can you do that now that he is the King?

“I'd like a dance,” he states simply, pinning Lord Song down with his eyes. You feel awkward watching it, knowing every part of you hoped for this, for a dance with him tonight. You didn't think it'd be like this. That he'd interrupt your dance, making everyone around look your way to check what's happening.

“Of course,” Lord Song answers without further questions, stepping aside to create more space for the King. Before leaving completely, he takes his chance and smiles at you once more, motion which you reciprocate.

Seungcheol takes his place, his hand moving with yours as a mirror, his eyes solely on you. Your cheeks turn red as you hold his eye contact, nervousness building up as you feel your heart beating faster. You worry he might hear, that just by the look in your eyes, he'll know it all. You move in the rhythm without saying another word, too scared that if you even as breathe too loudly, he'll disappear, and it'll turn out you dreamed it all.

He steps closer to you, closer than a King should be to a lady he is simply dancing with, but not close enough for anyone to mention it. You look up at him, gazing into his chocolate brown eyes with yours. He stands out in the crowd, and it's not just because everyone's eyes are on the new King. His presence draws people in, and you know they can't get enough of his looks. You are no better than them.

“You were saying?” He asks, his face unreadable.

You tilt your head slightly before shaking it. “I didn't say anything, Your Majesty.”

“Drop the Majesty,” he stops you before explaining what he meant.

“And call you Your?” Your lips curve into a smile, proud of the joke you made. You know what he means, of course you do. But speaking to him without a title in such public place just doesn't seem right.

“You can call me yours,” he agrees, leaning closer to you so only you can hear. A shiver runs down your spine, his voice ringing in your ears.

He pulls back, an equally proud smile as you had on his lips. But you're not amused, your eyes wide and cheeks red. Everything about the situation making you feel hotter. You need to get away right after the dance, get some fresh air and hopefully a fresh mind. “Sire,” you blurt out quickly. It's supposed to be a warning for him, reminder that you are surrounded by nobles from all over the country, but your anxiety makes it seem like anything but. Seungcheol rolls his eyes, obviously not satisfied. But he leaves it, for now at least.

“Your conversation with Lord Song, what was it about?” He asks again and this time, you actually know what he wants you to talk about.

“He asked about my interests.”

“And?” He encourages, “what did you say?”

“That I love flowers, and literature,” you tell him, even though you have a feeling he already knows that. You never directly spoken to him about the things you like or what sparks your interest, however, the first time you met, you were surrounded by flowers you couldn't take your eyes off. You told him how much you loved their gardens and he must have seen you visiting them every day.

“Tell me more about it.”

“Maybe another time,” you smile, knowing the song is coming to an end. As much as you wanted to dance with him, look him in the eyes and enjoy his proximity, it all feels suffocating. You can feel multiple pairs of eyes on you, making you feel small. You wonder what they think when they look at you and the King, if they like the scene or would prefer someone else to take your place. Everyone has their own opinion on what the next Queen of Veloria should look like, what she should wear and how she should present herself. Deep down, you know it's impossible to meet everyone's standards, that one way or another you'll end up disappointing someone no matter how much you try, but it doesn't change the fact you don't like the way they are looking at you at the moment.

“Why not now?” He presses, needing to hear more from you, have another excuse not to dance with any of the other ladies looking to seek their change at becoming the Queen. “We have the whole night to ourselves.”

“I shall not stay long,” you shake your head in a small excuse. “My feet hurt and I promised my brother I'll read with him before he goes to sleep.” Seungcheol can't argue with that, nodding as if he approved. Despite knowing you don't need his approval, that you can leave whenever you want, you're glad to have it.

The song comes to an end, both of your stopping your movements and bowing. You drop into a courtesy, your legs bend much more than when you were greeting Lord Song and your head down. “We shall see each other another day, then.” You hum, not giving him a clear yes or no answer before pushing past the crowd, not bothering with finding Daniela again or saying good night to your parents, heading straight for the exit.

You don't go find your brother to read with him like you promised, you can't. Instead, you find yourself at the palace entrance, closing your eyes as you breath in the fresh air. You learned that Veloria is beautiful no matter the time of the day, but there's something captivating about the night sky and stars. The moon is clear as day from where you stand, casting soft light in the darkness of the night. The only people around are the two guards standing at the door, but they don't pay you any attention. You try to place their face to a name but no matter how you try, you don't recognize them.

However, a guard you do recognize is Taehyun, his voice pulling you out of your thoughts about how attractive King Seungcheol looks tonight. “My lady, it's cold here.” You turn around, giving him a smile. You don't need to ask why he is here, it's obvious he came to take you back to your chambers. So you simply nod, stepping forward to reach him.

You don't say anything for a while, letting him lead you through the hallways you know as well as the ones back home by now. It's only when he stops in front of your door that you hesitate, eyeing him curiously. He doesn't react, ignoring the fact your eyes are gazing into his soul. It's something he got used to since becoming your guard. “How did you find me so quickly? I didn't tell anyone where I was going.”

He looks at you, finally meeting your eyes. “His Majesty told me you were leaving the banquet, it is my job to be with you at all times and protect you. I was going to come to your chamber, but he told me I'll find you in the gardens by the lilies at the very back. It was luck I reached you before you could wander further into the dark.”

Seungcheol knew where to find you. For some reason, it makes you smile. You shake your head slightly, not saying anything back as you disappear into your room with a grin on your face. Changing into your sleeping gown, you think of the new King as you slowly fall asleep in the comfort of your bed.

The following week after coronation was filled with celebrations, alcohol, and cheers to the new Veloria King. In those seven days, Seungcheol didn't show his face on any of the events happening in his honor. Stuck in a conference room with the entire council, he had to study more than ever before. When they found him after the coronation, he thought the time they stole from the banquet would be enough to agree on everything. But turns out, all the information they dumped at him there wasn't even half of it.

It was tiring, to say the least, but thanks to the people around him, it began to feel less like a duty and more like a friendly hang out. Of course, there was still all the papers he needed to sign, letters he needed to send, and events to approve of, but knowing it no longer remains William standing by his side but is now joined with a much younger scholar who has the same opinion on many things certainly made it all worth it.

Still, there is something he hates missing out on. You.

The only time he stood by your side since the banquet was the first Sunday of his ruling, when you joined him to announce to the people you were to be the next Veloria Queen. Many cheers filled the palace shortly after, celebrations of his coronations turning into celebrations of the upcoming royal wedding. The more he thought about it, it seemed like his people will take any chance they can to celebrate something as long as it involves dancing and drinking. Not that he could blame them.

Your parents left the kingdom shortly after, leaving you alone in here. Maybe that's why he hates being busy even more, knowing you have no one else here to hang out with. Sure, your ladies-in-waiting are here to accompany you, and from what he heard, Lady Avanzini stayed, but that's different. He is to be your family, your husband, he should be able to spend time with you as well.

Instead, all he can do is watch your from the palace as you walk through the gardens, just like you have many times before. Taehyun follows you on every step, and he's never been more grateful for the knight's devotion to the royal family. Knowing you always have someone by your side to look out for you when he can't helps him ease his mind.

He's noticed you spending more and more time outside, seeking the comfort of the gardens more than before. Every part of his body wants to come down and join you, ask you what's on your mind and if he can help anyhow, but each time he is close to leaving the room and chasing after you, a member of the council or Seungkwan show up, needing him for something that apparently can't wait.

It's been too long. Too long since he last got to look you in the eyes and read every emotion behind them, since he danced with you, and since he allowed himself to think about how gorgeous you look. And as much as he wants to break the cycle and see you, with each passing day, as the wedding nears, he reminds himself he'll get to see you and spend his ruling by your side for the rest of his days from now.

“Is everything ready for tomorrow?” He asks, averting his eyes from the beauty wandering through his gardens and turning to face Kaito and Seungkwan. The two of them exchange a quick glance before agreeing.

“Everything should be set. We have every flower the Princess requested, most of our guests have confirmed their attendance, and the servants are preparing the room as we speak,” Kaito proclaims, making the King hum. “We've got everything under control, so you can just relax for the night and spend your last day before the wedding however you wish,” there is a slight implication behind those words but Seungcheol decides to ignore them, focusing on the important part — he can relax tonight.

There is many things he could do, sleep the entire night, visit his father and see if his condition got any better — despite knowing it hadn't, and it's only a matter of time before he leaves them for good — but the first thought that comes to mind is he could spend time with you. He could join you on your walks, take you from your ladies and have dinner with you, or simply replace Taehyun and follow you like a lost puppy for the rest of the day. Neither of the options sound bad.

“Your brother asked me to tell you to meet him in front of the palace in…” Seungkwan's eyes trail to the sun outside, guessing the hour by the shadow it sets. “In about an hour, Your Majesty.” And there go his plans of spending time with you. A sigh escapes his lips, wondering which one of his brothers just got on his bad side. “Or I could tell Prince you are busy?” He asks upon seeing the look on King's face.

Seungcheol shakes his head, coming to peace with the face he'll have to wait one more day to spend time with you. “No need. I'll meet him. Has he said why he wants to see me?” Seungkwan apologizes, nervous as he tells his king he hasn't asked as far. Kaito gives him a dirty glance, almost as if he was judging him for his lack of knowledge, but truthfully, Seungcheol doesn't care.

♡⸝⸝

“We are going out together,” Joshua announces with a grin, Mingyu right beside him. Now as he stands face to face with his brother, he hates not yelling at Seungkwan before for not knowing why his brother wanted to see him. Had he knew it was just about going out, he would have never came down here. “Oh come on, don't get all you now.”

“What does that mean?” He narrows his eyes, his brows furrowing together.

“That,” Joshua says simply. “That face, the sulkiness. You can't be mad we want to take you out on your last night as a single lord.”

“Not a lord.”

“Same thing,” Mingyu brushes him off. “You can let go of your responsibilities for the night, so take the chance. Let's go out and have fun. Last night before everything becomes heir, wife, duties, hm?” The two of them stare at each other for a second before Seungcheol finally sighs, agreeing. The two younger men silently cheer, grinning at each other as if they just got the greatest news of their life delivered on silver plate. He shakes his head at them, finding them ridiculous.

“I need to change then,” he mumbles, looking down at his clothes. It's too royally. If they are going out, joining the common, far from the responsibilities and duties he holds, he should dress accordingly. “Put on something…less.” Mingyu laughs at him, telling him to hurry.

He does, almost stumbling over his own feet and knocking down half of his wardrobe as he changes into a simple shirt and a dark vest, something much more casual than the clothes he's forced to wear to the council meetings. He passes by your lady-in-waiting on his way outside again, sharing a brief smile with her. He can only hope she is on her way to see you, and spend some time with you while he can't.

It scares him how much he wishes he could.

The pub is filled with laughter that fills his ears right after stepping inside, everyone holding a glass of beer. A few people in the corner yell at the entire place, and it takes him a second to realize they're singing. It's completely different from the events and celebrations he is used to, but if he's honest, the atmosphere in this place is much more to his liking. Everything feels a lot more casual, no one caring if they leave a good impression or what others think about them.

It's filled with men, which is another thing he isn't used to. The lack of femininity could turn a lot different ways. “Don't just stand here,” Mingyu pats him on the back as he walks past him, saying his greetings to the guy behind a bar. They laugh at something Mingyu says, the two of them obviously friends. Seungcheol hesitates for a second before following Joshua to one of the tables, taking in the sight of everyone once more as he sits down. No one is paying attention to him, everyone busy with their conversations to notice him. And frankly, he loves that.

In the palace, everyone's eyes are on him at all times, giving him little to no privacy. But here, it looks like as if no one knows who he is. Mingyu comes back with three beers, setting them down on the table and spilling some of it out. No one points it out, all three of them raising their glasses and clinking them together on top of the table. “To our King,” Mingyu grins, his teeth showing.

“To the Queen,” Joshua adds with a smile.

“To our kingdom,” Seungcheol finishes, bringing the glass to his lips and gulping down the bitter liquid.

The three of them chat away about the past few weeks, and Mingyu answers every question about you and your safety Seungcheol throws his way. Joshua watches it in awe, slowly piecing one and one together. But it'd have to take a lot more for the King to admit how much space you take of his mind, brushing Joshua off every time he tries to tease him about how smitten he apparently is with you. He wouldn't say he is smitten or anything, he is simply worried about the well-being of the woman supposed to rule the kingdom by his side. Nothing weird about that, right?

He's only halfway through his second beer of the night when a conversation catches his ears, his eyes focused on whatever Mingyu and Joshua are talking about while his true attention rests on a table a few feet away.

“The coronation was so weird,” one of the guys says, alcohol reeking even from the tone of his voice. It makes Seungcheol frown, glad he isn't the one sitting opposite him, smelling the drinks he had tonight. He shakes his head, redirecting his focus back on his two close friends. He knows people have different opinions on the coronation, the process and reasoning behind it. And honestly, he doesn't really care. As long as his closest enjoyed it, there is no need for him to dwell on it. But their conversation continues, taking a much more interesting turn.

“I mean, it was fast, out of nowhere, right. But you know what was weirder — the wedding announcement. Don't you think that was extremely fast?”

“She must be pregnant!”

“The King really didn't waste any time,” a laugh leaves his lips and Seungcheol finds himself glancing their way. There is just the two of them, both of them drunk and neither of them paying attention to their surroundings. If they had, maybe they'd notice the topic of their conversation is right beside them.

“Honestly, can't blame him for fucking her and wanting her baby. Have you seen her? I'd pay to see her bouncing on my cock,” the same guy who started the conversation laughs loudly, taking another sip of his beer. Seungcheol's eyes widen immediately, his knuckles turning white from the way he grips his glass. “We should visit the brothel after our drinks,” he suggests, nodding rapidly, obviously liking his own idea. “What do we know, maybe she works there too, with a body like that.”

His friend laughs, agreeing.

“Hey,” Cheol calls out, deciding enough is enough. The two drunks raise their heads, meeting his eyes. It takes a second for them to register who they're talking to, but he loves watching their eyes widen as realization sets in. The less of an idiot one — as Seungcheol decides to call them — opens his mouth to say something, but closes it again, knowing there really isn't anything he could say to fix this.

“What's going on?” Joshua wonders, both him and Mingyu watching their friend curiously.

Seungcheol doesn't pay them any attention, though, his eyes locked on the two idiots. “My wife,” he states, anger beaming through his voice. “Is far too busy ruling the kingdom to look your way. So if I were you, I'd shut my fucking mouth and get out of my sight before I have your heads cut for disrespect and conspiracy against the Crown.”

“We didn't—”

“Now,” he rasps, too irritated to bother even pretending to hear them out.

The two guys quickly jump from their chairs, almost tripping over their own feet and falling down as their vision blurs, their head spinning. Their glasses are still halfway full, but that's not the main subject of their worries at the moment. Neither of them looks him in the eyes again, quietly cursing each other out for not keeping their mouth shut before hurrying out of the pub, ignoring the owners call after them not to come back again.

“What was that about?” A disbelieving chuckle leaves Joshua's lips as he brings his beer to his mouth, keeping his eyes on his brother.

“I rule over brainless animals,” Seungcheol grumbles an answer before gulping down the rest of his beer at once. The bitter taste soon turns rich, the liquid sliding down his throat with ease.

“Whoa, slow down,” Mingyu shakes his head. “No need to drink your ass off because of them.”

“Didn't you two take me out so I could do exactly that?” He waves at the over to pour him another one and he nods. When he looks around the pub again, there is a lot more eyes on him, everyone whispering about what just happened. Great. Truly amazing. His annoyance only grows, and he wants nothing more than to join you in your little corner of his gardens and look with you at the flowers they have to offer.

The two share a look before looking at their King again, telling each other everything they need with their eyes. “I didn't know you care of the Princess so much,” Joshua comments casually, testing the waters.

“I don't, that's why,” he refuses, not meeting either of the guys' eyes as he waits for the owner to bring him another beer. As soon as he does, he takes another long sip, not caring what it might look like to the people around. He needs to wash his anger away and if this is how he does it, then so be it. He'll never be able to please all of his people, so what's the big deal in making a few more lose their believes in him?

Mingyu hums, not trusting him in the slightest. “You're just passionate about what the others think of you, right?”

“Something like that,” he brushes him off, refusing to discuss this further. “Now, can we focus on why we came here? Aren't we supposed to celebrate my last day before becoming a husband?”

“Right,” Joshua nods, deciding to follow his brother's lead for now. If he doesn't want to talk about it, then so be it.

If the palace was chaotic at the day of the coronation, you don't want to put a name on today. You barely got to eat breakfast in peace before Daniela and two maids on her side came rushing for you, claiming they need you immediately. You didn't question it, assuming you'll be able to finish your breakfast later after you'd be done with them, but you were dragged through the palace ever since then, everyone needing your opinion or style a part of you you didn't even know needed it.

You can't blame them, you know it's their job to make sure everything — including you — is perfect. You just wish they'd give you a time to breathe in between. You've tried all your clothes a week prior and yet, they need you to do it all over again. You need to get dressed just to take it all off again and wait for after lunch to put it back on. It's time you wish you could spend in the comfort of nature and clear your mind before the big day.

“When will this be done?” You wonder, holding in your breath as Daniela ties your corset the tightest she can. You can't breathe well but that is likely exactly what she was going for. All of your undergarments are in some sort of beige shade, making you feel bland. You know it's a wedding, and that there isn't much color you could add, but you miss your every day dress either way.

You wonder what clothes the King will be wearing. If he'll have the same royal blue you can't help but gaze at every time, if his eyes will stand out, or if they'll force him into black just so he can prove some authority. As much as you're certain black will suit him just as much, you hope he'll get to wear something else, and showcase some color for the both of you.

“Patience, Your highness,” one of the maids smiles at you, hoping to ease your mind. You sigh, looking around the room. With everything going on, you won't be surprised if they take hours until allowing you to go relax again. You'd much rather stand by and check if the place is all prepared or stay locked in the council chamber like your soon to be husband, away from all this.

“May I at least get something to drink?”

“I'll send your guard,” Daniela speaks up, trying not to pity you too much as her eyes meet yours. You nod, and before you can add anything else, a maid is calling you over, asking you to take a few steps forward on the dais. Listening, you follow their directions, watching them finish dressing you up and start fixing things. You're in for a long rest of the day.

♡⸝⸝

Standing in front of the cathedral, you feel more nervous than ever. Knowing everyone is waiting for you inside, expectations high, every part of you wishes you could turn around and run away. But you know you can't, you can't even think about what kind of trouble you'd get into if you did.

Your ladies-in-waiting went in just a few seconds ago, right after the flower girl, leaving you all alone. You never wished your parents would have stayed for the wedding more than now. You want to walk down the aisle with your father, just like you read of other ladies doing. You want to know your mother and siblings are sitting in the very front, excited to see you in your white dress. But you can't have either. The King's parents aren't here either from what you heard, but you can't imagine anyone questioning him as much as they'll question you after seeing you all alone.

God, you want to go back to your chambers.

“My lady.”

Your eyes widen, making you turn around immediately. You've never felt more grateful for hearing his voice. “What are you doing here?” You ask, eyeing Taehyun up and down. His usual uniform is switched into a ceremonial one, matching with the rest of the guards inside you can only assume. He shrugs, like it's not a big deal. “Shouldn't you be in position with the rest of the knights? What if they discipline you for disobeying orders?” You panic, despite every part of your body wanting to ask him to stay, beg him not to leave you alone.

You wonder if he'd find you pathetic if he learned what's going on through your head. You wonder if the King would, if he'd decide you're not a suitable match for him anymore because he doesn't want to rule with someone too scared of what others think of her.

“I doubt they would,” he shakes his head. He doesn't say anything for a moment, letting you relax in his presence before offering you his arm. “I'm here to walk with you. His Majesty asked me.”

“He did?”

Taehyun nods, “He thought you should walk with someone. And since I've been doing well protecting you over the past few weeks, he asked me to protect you today during the ceremony as well.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, thinking about the man waiting for you inside, the same one you've dreamed of many times before, the one who's made you nervous without even being around, the one who apparently thought through every single part of this ceremonial, even who'd walk you to him. A part of you just wants to rush inside, wrap your arms around him and thank him for everything as you let tears run down your cheeks.

Instead, you wrap your hand around your knight's arm, smiling up at him as he steps forward with you.

You walk on the red carpet beneath you, focusing forward instead of on the quiet whispers of nobles around you. You can feel their eyes on you, a lot of them with smiles on their faces, while some reek of jealousy. But there is only one pair of eyes in this room that matters to you, one pair of eyes that makes all of this easier.

You tighten your grip on the bouquet of flowers in your hands, sharing a small smile with the King waiting for you. He stands tall, intimidating, yet as welcoming as the first time you saw him in the gardens. Even from afar, his eyes stand out thanks to the navy blue gown he is wearing, lined with gold details matching yours. You can't imagine him anyhow else. This is perfect.

Keeping your eyes on him, you step on the ceremonial platform, joining his side. Taehyun quickly moves out of the way, sharing a brief smile with your lady-in-waiting before falling into space with the knights on the side. Seungcheol gives you one last reassuring smile before facing the priest. You feel your heart aching at the small motion, unsure if you want to love or hate how well he can read you.

“Dearly beloved,” You keep your eyes forward, allowing the priest your full attention. “We are gathered to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony. It is said that marriage hath in it less beauty but more of safety than the single life.”

Does it? Is marriage less beautiful than the life you were living until now? You'd hope otherwise. And as you turn to the King of Veloria, ready to exchange your vows, your hope only grows.

You briefly meet eyes with Seungcheol's brothers standing behind him before looking at him. “I, the Princess of Elowen, take thee, Choi Seungcheol, to honor our duties and fulfill our legacies. I shall honor our kingdom and our family. In sickness and in health, in times of war and peace, I promise to stand by your side.” Unable to avert your eyes, you find yourself getting lost in his orbs as you speak, the chocolate brown bringing you the same comfort you once thought only nature could provide. But ever since coming here and meeting him, you're learning a lot new things. This might just as well be one of them.

“I, the King of Veloria,” he starts, his eyes softening. You feel your cheeks turning red, everything around you becoming blurry. It's just you and him at the moment, despite the cathedral being full of nobles. He repeats your words, your name falling of his lips with so much ease and grace your head spins. “I promise to stand by your side,” he whispers, the words holding more meaning to you than he probably realizes.

“In the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.” The priest brings you out of your thoughts, but before you can properly look at him, and focus on anything else other than the man beside you, he holds your hand in his, his fingertips cold against your bare skin. Your breath catches in your throat, but he is there to hold you, giving your hand a light squeeze. You nod, more of a reassurance to you than to him, and he slowly slides the diamond to your ring finger.

It's only then than you manage to avert your eyes from him, watching your connected hands. “I now pronounce you man and wife.” The priest finishes and your hand slowly falls to your side. It feels like the first time you actually register what's happening around you when you face the crowd, the soft melody played by the royal band reaching your ears.

This is it.

You shall be the Queen of Veloria now.

It is as scary as it was the first time you heard the news.

♡⸝⸝

The wedding celebrations feel a lot more like celebrations for your people than you and your husband. You haven't seen Seungcheol in hours, but that's something you've gotten used to. He is busy, it makes sense. You've had your company despite his absence, anyway. You were greeted with nobles you once read about for their great achievements, getting their blessings and praises on your looks tonight. A part of you knows they are approaching you simply to get on the King's good side but you don't mind. As long as you can focus on anything other than the fact your handsome husband is missing at the moment, you feel okay.

“Your Majesty.” You smile as you watch lord Song bow in front of you, his smile nothing if not sincere. “I didn't realize I had the pleasure of dancing with my Queen.” You allow him to kiss the back of your hand as a greeting.

“Back then, I was no Queen,” you remind him, urging him to stand straight again. You will take a moment getting used to the honor everyone pays you.

“You look beautiful tonight, Your Majesty,” he says instead of acknowledging your previous comment.

You give lord Song a bit of your time, engaging in a chat with him as he accompanies you to get you a drink. It's then that you finally catch a glimpse of your husband, his brows furrowed together and eyes tired as he dismissed his Head Advisor, obviously not in the mood to talk with him. Your smile falls as well when you see him, wishing to change directions and meet with him instead, to ask him what's bothering him and help.

You wonder if it's the first born curse, wanting to take care of other people. Because every single bone in your body itches for you to drop everything and help him.

“Mingi!” Lord Song turns around upon hearing his name, meeting eyes with his older brother. “That is my cue,” he says gently, giving you one last of his smiles. “I shall bother you no longer, Your Majesty. My sincere congratulations,” he bows with his right hand over his heart, leaving you alone. For the first time since the King's coronation when your parents left Veloria, you are happy to be on your own.

There's no hesitation as you walk past your people, offering them all your best smile. But honestly, you don't care about the impression you leave on them, you just want to get to him. “Seungcheol,” you breathe out as soon as you reach him, catching his attention immediately. He turns to face you, his eyes softening when they meet yours. Your cheeks flush at the sudden attention. You didn't think this through enough. “May I ask you for a dance?”

His hand reaches forward, palm up. “Of course,” he smiles and you hold his hand in yours. Guiding you through the nobles surrounding you, he finds the center of the hall, eyeing the people around. They don't need to be told twice, stepping back to give you the much needed space. It's just you and him, everyone else standing aside, watching you. The soft melody reaches your ears as you put your left hand on his shoulder, your right still holding his. His palm rests on your back, sending shivers down your spine. Your eyes stay locked together as you begin dancing, the world around blurring — just like it happens to do every time you allow yourself to get lost in his eyes.

“You look quite upset,” you mumble when you know no one else can hear you.

“Do I?” He blink confusedly, doing his best not to mess up his steps. “Please, don't think it has anything to do with you.” You hesitate, unsure of your place. You are the Queen of Veloria, his wife, but does he think of you highly enough to let you in, and tell you what you want to hear?

“What happened?” You ask after a brief pause.

Shaking his head, his thumb brushes slow, barely noticeable, circles on your back. “Nothing of importance,” he assures you. “I'm simply not pleased with the council wanting to keep me busy on my wedding night.”

“Will you work tonight?”

“I don't know yet,” he admits, trying to find any sign of disappointment in your eyes. He doesn't find it though, not since the only thing your eyes are filled with is the need to be closer to him than you already are.

A few nobles join you, dancing along with you, but you don't pay them attention. You don't know half of them, anyway. The song slowly comes to an end and you drop your hands to your sides despite wishing to do the opposite. “I shall find Lady Avanzini and ask her to accompany me back to my chambers, I've grown quite tired,” you excuse yourself, but before you can leave, he stops you.

“Our chambers,” he corrects you, watching you blink confusedly. “With today, our honeymoon begins. We shall share a room, for a week at least. The honeymoon,” he hesitates, biting back the words resting on his tongue. “It is a tradition. You can return to your chambers next week.” You nod, letting him know you understand.

“Then I shall see you again later,” you stop yourself from dropping into a courtesy out of habit, simply saying your goodbye with your eyes before walking away.

It doesn't take you long to find your lady-in-waiting, interrupting her chat with Taehyun. “Lady Avanzini,” you smile at her before directing your attention to your knight.

“Yes, Your Majesty?” She asks while dropping into a courtesy. This feels much more odd than you thought it would. If getting used to the respect other nobles pay you will take you a while, you can't even imagine how long before you get used to Daniela doing so. “Can I help you with anything?”

“I'd like to go back to my chambers— the King's chambers,” you correct yourself. Her smile turns into a smirk, one you could recognize from miles away. She's planning something, something you probably won't like.

“Shall I join?” Taehyun asks, glancing between you and your lady.

“Next time,” Daniela turns to him, sending him a wink. “Her Majesty won't be needing your protection tonight, I'm certain the King will take care of her well enough.”

You tilt your head confusedly but before you get a chance to ask what she means, she's leading you out of the Great Hall, finding the nearest maid to tell her she needs to bring your night gowns to the King's chambers.

“Are you excited for your honeymoon?” Daniela asks as you walk through the halls, everything quiet with everyone at the Great Hall, celebrating your marriage.

“Is there anything to be excited for?” You question, causing a soft laugh to bubble out of her.

“Of course there is, Your Majesty,” she proclaims. “Staying in bed with your husband all week, I can't imagine anything as exciting.”

“Staying in bed?”

“Yes. How else do you believe you shall spend your honeymoon? It is given for the newly weds to produce an heir and enjoy each others' company.” An heir. You are supposed to produce an heir with the King this week? In bed? Every chat you share with your lady, you question just how little you know about ruling and the duties it brings you. “I mean, I am well aware you and His Majesty didn't marry out of love, but that doesn't stop you from fulfilling your duties.”

“Of course,” you nod, even though you aren't quite sure what she means. You'll have to ask your husband when he arrives. You are sure he knows much more than you, so maybe he'll be able to help you understand.

Daniela helps you change before going back to the banquet. You take your time exploring the King's chamber, admiring his view, wardrobe, and even the washing room connected to it. Everything is double the size of your own chamber, which you understand. But as soon as your eyes land on the large bed he owns, you wish this was your room.

“Can we talk about this tomorrow?” You recognize the voice, closing the wardrobe and turning around to face the door. Seungcheol walk in right after, dropping his ceremonial coat to the floor. Your eyes widen when you see him, unsure what to do. He seems to have forgotten about you. “But, Your Majesty!” There's another male voice coming from behind the door but he decides to ignore it, shutting the door closed after himself. “A moment of relaxation is all I asked,” he mumbles under his breath, annoyed.

“Seungcheol,” you call our carefully not to scare him. He raises his head, finding your eyes in an instance. Your name slips past him lips, realization settling in as he remembers your earlier conversation.

“I apologize, I—” he curses quietly, quickly gathering his clothes from the floor and bringing them to the closet you are standing beside. “I am truly sorry for my ill manners.”

“Seungcheol,” you repeat, your voice soft, trying to get his attention back to you. “It is perfectly fine. I have three younger siblings, remember? I am used to being messy behind closed door and allowing to speak freely with my closest ones.” He gives you a smile, nodding. “That is, of course, if you don't mind me speaking so casually to you?” You question nervously. Despite his effort to get you to drop his title since your first meet, you still worry about being too forward with him.

“I am happy you do,” he assures you, closing his wardrobe and facing you again, his body only inches from yours. You feel hot, standing so close to him. He reaches forward, brushing a messy hair behind your ear before meeting your eyes again. “I haven't had the chance to tell you yet, but you looked beautiful tonight. You look beautiful every day, actually.”

Your cheeks only redden more and your eyes fall to the floor, unable to look at him at the moment. “If you give me a moment to wash up, we can go to sleep. Or talk, anything you wish.”

You nod, standing frozen in place as he walks around you to get into his wash room. “Wait,” you blurt out, facing him again. “Can I have a question now?” He nods, waiting for you to speak. “I have…” you think over your words carefully, trying to find the right thing to say. “I was told the honeymoon is supposed to be used to produce an heir.” You watch his eyes widen at your words, realization of how this conversation is going to go washing over him. “I am not sure how that works.”

“Your mother didn't teach you?” You shake your head. He keeps his eyes on you, also hesitating. He seems nervous, and it makes you wonder how you are meant to understand anything if it's so difficult to talk about. “There is enough time for us to produce an heir,” he settles on instead, deciding it is safer to run away from this conversation for now.

“Is it that difficult?”

“No, no,” he shakes his head with a sigh, taking a few steps forward to reach you again. “It isn't difficult. But I do not believe it is something you'd want me to teach you about now. We can wait.”

“Seungcheol,” you try again, your big eyes gazing into his chocolate ones. “Please. I wish to know.” He is nervous, that much you can tell from the way he looks at you, as if he is scared to break you, to harm you. It only confuses you further. Your heart beats faster because of his look, but your head tells you it's wrong, almost as if it wanted to warn you him being so secretive isn't right. “Please.”

You watch his eyes drop to your lips, the inner fight behind his eyes obvious. He can't decide whether to step closer to you, close the gap between you and give you what you want, or if he should step back, turn around and run away from you, guard himself like he thought he would do back when he first told William you are the one he wishes to marry.

“When an heir is produced,” he whispers, not wanting to break the moment. Tugging your hair behind your ear, he keeps his thumb on your cheek, his eyes flickering between yours and your lips. “You must be naked. Here,” his free hand gently brushes between your legs, barely touching, “is where it all happens.” Your breath catches, his nervousness moving onto you as you feel your body begging you to press against his, be even closer than you already are.

“You… Are you naked as well?” You whisper, knowing your voice would break if you tried speaking normally.

“I will be,” he nods. “If that's what you want.” Your body moves on its own, nodding to him. You watch his eyes flash with need, something in him snapping. He leans closer, no hesitance left as he presses his lips to yours, one of his hands still on the side of your neck while the other squeezes your waist, fingers digging into your flesh.

Your mouth moves against his on instinct, your eyes closed as you tilt your head slightly. Your entire body burns as your hands find his shoulders, holding onto him as he kisses you. You've read about this many times before, about how it feels for people to kiss their loved ones, but none of the books has been able to capture the feeling enough. You feel every one of his touches in your entire self, your head clouded with him — his smell, the way he grips your waist, the softness of his lips, and the way he presses into you.

If this is what every kiss feels like, you understand why lovers do it so often. You don't want this moment to end, you want to stay in his touch till your end.

But that's not how it works, and you have to pull back to breathe. But just as you are leaning for more, he steps back, his hands falling to his sides. Your brows furrow confusedly, confused as he averts his eyes from you. This is nothing like the kisses you have read about, you realize. Stories don't capture the feeling of your lips pressed against his well enough, just as they don't capture the feeling of your heart shattering into pieces when you are forced to watch him walk away from you right after.

“I shall go meet with Seungkwan and the council, they said it was important,” he blurts out, not meeting your eyes again as he rushes out of the room as fast as he can, not caring that his hair is messed up or that he is breaking you into pieces with this simple action.

There are many ways Seungcheol thought his honeymoon would go, but in none of the scenarios he imagine has he kissed you like you were his entire world just to run away right after in a foolish attempt to guard himself from what it means.

Love has never been in his cards, he has reminded himself of that many times since you've arrived. But every time he sees you looking up at him, your big eyes sparkling with what he could only call pure interest, he believes his words less and less. There is simply something about the way you look at him and speak to him — that has him believing, believing he could be so lucky and rule by the side of someone he loves.

Last night was the breaking point. With you in his room, in just your sleep wear and your innocent eyes asking him how you could make a child with him, it was impossible to resist you. You were always beautiful, he has never denied that, but nothing compares to how incredibly gorgeous you are with your cheeks flushed and your lips swollen.

The image of you right after he's pulled away from the kiss will stay in his head forever.

But so might the sadness in your eyes when you watched him step away.

To this hour, he isn't sure why he did what he did. He had a chance to be with you, do what everyone has been wishing him and fall in love with you, but honestly, the thought of that is scary.

He's studied the principles of politics, social manners and sword fighting. No one has taught him how to love, though. No one has ever told him how scared he'll be every day, how much he'll want to protect you and wrap his arms around you, guard you from the ugly of this world. Jumping into something like this, something he was never meant to have, is much scarier than ruling the kingdom.

He hasn't stopped thinking about you, about how much you must hate him at the moment. Not when he sat in his study with Seungkwan, not when he rested his head on the table and closed his eyes for a brief nap, or when he ate breakfast all alone, because you have gone to the gardens before anyone else could wake up.

“Your Majesty, do you wish to leave?” Kaito brings him out of his thoughts. Seungcheol blinks quickly, reminding himself where he is and that he is in no place to be daydreaming about the way your lips felt against his. “We can move this conversation to later,” he offers, well aware of the fact the King isn't paying him the attention he wishes to have.

“Please,” Seungcheol nods. “I need to go for some fresh air. We can come back to this after lunch.”

“Perfect,” he nods, hesitating before leaving. His eyes flicker between his King and the window behind him, well aware of the reason he wishes to go outside.

“If you excuse me then,” His Majesty mumbles, not meeting Kaito's eyes again as he rushes out of the study, his destination clear. There is a lot going in his head at the moment, and as much as he wants to guard himself and go through with the way he knows, the unknown calls to him just as much.

He doesn't need to look for you for long, finding you right where he thought he would, crouched down near the lilies with your hands resting over your knees, your eyes glued to the flowers in front of you. Taehyun stands a few feet away from you, close enough to be able to help if anything happened, but far enough to give you personal space.

Your name slips past his lips, making you look up at him. He watches as sadness flashes in your eyes, feeling his heart clench in his chest. He drops down beside you, hugging his knees the same way you do. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” you lie. He can see right through you, a sigh leaving his lips as he shakes his head. “I'll be fine,” you correct yourself but it's still not an answer he'd like.

“What is it?” He asks, his voice soft. “Can I help?” You shake your head as quickly as you can, refusing. Standing up, you fix your dress and take a few steps away from him, pretending to admire the other flowers. He can tell you just want to get away from him, though. He stands up as well but respects your space, staying in place.

“I miss my family,” you mumble quietly, not sure if he can even hear you. But when he calls out your name, you know he did. He waits for you to turn around, his eyes finding yours immediately. “I know I am the Queen now and it is silly. I am well aware how this makes me look, but I can't help how I feel.” Your words hold a much deeper meaning and you both know it. There is only as much emotions you can hide from each other. “I don't like feeling alone”

“You aren't alone,” he interrupts you, carefully taking a step towards you. You don't move back, which he takes as a good sign. “You have me,” he reminds you. “I am right here.”

“Don't,” you shake your head, your lips trembling slightly — a movement so small he doubts anyone else would notice. You probably don't notice it either. Your eyes are hollow when he looks at you, like you can't decide if you feel empty or too much as you speak to him. It hurts him just as much as it hurts you. “Don't do that.”

“Do what?” The words come out a lot more desperate than he intended for them to, the silent plea in them on full display. He hopes with everything in him Taehyun isn't listening, and he can somehow keep this conversation between just you and him.

“This,” is all you say, biting your lower lip as you look at him. “Giving me home— acting like we are beyond just a partnership on a paper.”

Oh.

He'd lie if he said that didn't sting. But it is what he deserves, it is what he made you believe last night after all. But no matter how much he wants to hide from the fact, you are more than that. You are more than a stranger who came to power thanks to him. You are a dream, beautiful, brilliant, caring dream he wishes to see every time he goes to sleep.

He opens his mouth to argue, to apologize for last night and promise he never meant to hurt your feelings, but the words don't get a chance to leave his lips as Taehyun's voice rings in his ears, a quiet curse leaving his lips as he glances around to see what he needs. If it's stupid, he'll make sure to let him know just how much he doesn't appreciate his interruptions.

“You've received a letter,” he explains, holding the piece of paper in his hands. Seungcheol's eyes flicker between the knight and the boy behind him still trying to catch his breath. “What does it say?” He asks, crossing the space between him and Taehyun and taking the letter from him when he can't give him an answer.

“I was told to give you this message as quickly as possible,” the boy breathes out when Seungcheol eyes him up and down. He can't be over the age of twenty, his brown hair messy and eyes nervously snapping from one person to another, scared he might get in trouble.

Nodding to reassure him it is okay, he opens the letter, scanning the words with his eyes. “Fuck,” he blurts out before he can stop himself, his hand dropping to his side again as he turns to face you, meeting your curious eyes. He hesitates, only scaring you further as you rush to him to read the letter yourself. He doesn't allow you, hiding it behind his back, his eyes pleading for you to leave it to him.

“Seungcheol,” you demand. “What is it?”

“There is…” he stops, unsure how to say it. “Your parents were attacked. No one is hurt,” he assures you before you can panic. “Everyone is okay, and they have moved to their winter residence, but we can't know how long that will be safe for them.”

“We have to help! Who attacked them? What—” He wraps his hand around your shoulders, pulling you onto him and letting you rest your head on his chest. “You have to help, please,” you whisper, the worst case scenarios running through your mind.

“I will,” he whispers back, pressing his lips to the top of your head. He is truly a fool. A fool who thought pushing you away would somehow help him be a better ruler, a fool who can't bear seeing you upset like this. “I'll get them.”

♡⸝⸝

A letter to your parents along with a carriage and a few of the best knights Veloria has to offer was sent as soon as you made it back inside.

Seungcheol's hands rest on the back of your chair — his chair — as you sit in his study, both of you carefully listening to what the council has to say. He speaks for the both of you, not because he'd doubt your abilities but because he knows you can't do it at the moment, too busy pretending to be okay in a room full of men talking about a possible war.

“How did it even happen? It's not like their security is small.”

“It could be an insider. Someone stole the guards' attention, allowing for them to get inside.”

“They got inside?” Your eyes widen as you finally speak as well. They redirect their attention to you, a pitiful look on their faces. Cheol's hand moves from the chair to your shoulder, giving you a tight squeeze. Your body moves on its own, your hand resting on top of his, holding onto him as you steady yourself. There is only as much bad news you can bear at the moment, and he is well aware of that.

“Can someone get Lady Avanzini in here as well as Kang Taehyun?” Seungcheol speaks up, interrupting them before they can even answer. “And give us a moment alone.” The council members exchange a look before slowly stepping out, the door slamming clothes echoing through the study room. “Hey,” his voice is soft unlike when he speaks to the others, walking over to your side and kneeling beside you.

Your eyes find his and you quickly shake your head. “I'm not going anywhere with Daniela and Taehyun,” you read his mind completely, making him sigh. Holding your hand in his, his eyes plead, plead for you to do as he asks. “I'm staying here with you,” you proclaim, shaking your head again. “I don't care what your plan is, but if you want me anywhere other than the room it all happens, you will have to carry me out with your bare hands.”

He tilts his head, his eyebrows raised as if he was question your words. “You do know I could do that with ease, right?” He watches your cheeks turn pink, like they have many times before, always messing with his head. He didn't mean for it to sound like this, he's better than to flirt with you when you are scared for your parents' well being, but gosh does he wish to keep talking just to see what reactions you'll give him.

“You should get your mind off things,” he says instead, giving your hand a tight squeeze. “Sleep, and hang out with your friend. And once this is all over, you can come to your family and tell them just how much you love them.”

“I am not leaving,” you repeat, leaning closer to prove your point. If you prove anything, though, it's that Seungcheol's heart can beat way faster than he thought. “I'd much rather go with your knights to pick them up than go to sleep.”

“Our knights,” he corrects you without hesitation, making your eyes flutter slightly. “And I'd much rather know you are safe so please, don't do anything reckless. I promise I'll get your parents here safely.” He keeps his eyes on you, unable to avert his eyes. You lean back, a heavy sigh escaping your lips as you give in.

“Okay,” you nod. He sighs as well, relief washing over him. “Now, get off the floor,” you shake your head, a smile decorating your face. Seungcheol is convinced he could look at your smile for the rest of his life if you let him. Only if you'd let him. “It's not a good look for the King to be kneeling on the floor.”

“People might argue with you on that,” the words leave his lips before he can think properly about them, his eyes widening when he realizes what he said. “Forget that, you are right,” he quickly blurts out, letting go of your hand and pushing himself up on his feet.

Fixing his coat quickly, he looks ahead at the door, clearing his throat. His head clouds with thoughts he should certainly not be thinking about at the moment, the image of him on his knees in front of you making his head spin. He's in a need of some fresh air, and preferably a cold shower if he can excuse himself.

Thankfully, before he can do anything reckless, a knock on the door rings in his ears and he is greeted with Taehyun and Daniela. That was rather quick. “Your Majesty,” they both bow before stepping into the room. He gives them a brief nod, acknowledging their presence. He watches them walk forward, his eyebrow raising slightly at the sight of Taehyun's fingers brushing against hers. His eyes fall to you on their own, partly to check if you noticed as well, if you know anything, but mostly simply because something like this — a light brush of fingers in secret — makes him think of you, hope for you.

“Could you accompany Her Majesty back to her room?” Your eyes shoot to him but he decides to ignore it. “Keep her safe until we get her family to us. And, Lady Avanzini,” his eyes meet hers. “Please help her think about other things.”

“I thought I could stay with you,” you complain as you glance over your shoulder at him. Seungcheol's eyes soften when he allows himself to look down at you, hoping for you to understand. “Will you come to me at least? Be with me?” You whisper, causing his eyes to wince. He doesn't need to be asked twice, though, knowing his answer before the words even left your mouth. He'll do his best to be with you, to be the one bringing you on different thoughts as you wait impatiently.

“Of course,” he whispers back. Your shoulders are visibly less tense now, and you give him a gentle nod. His eyes stay glued to your figure as you stand up and walk around him, joining your friend. He knows this is no time for it, that his priority should be helping your family and thinking about his next moves, but he can't help but think about how beautiful you look, your dress hugging your body in the perfect way, and every part of him wonders just how more gorgeous you'd look if the dress came off.

“Shall I ask another guard to join my side?” Taehyun asks but it takes a second for the King's eyes to pry away from you and focus on him instead.

“No need,” he refuses. “We don't have more knights to spare at the moment and I trust you, Taehyun.” The knight quickly nods, and despite Seungcheol's intentions never being to put pressure on his back, it surely looks like it as he walks out of the study room with the two women.

“May we continue now, Your Majesty?” Kaito steps inside, the rest of the council right behind him. “Not yet,” he shakes his head. “I need to find Mingyu and talk to him.”

“May we know what for?”

“I need to assign him to my sister. Or do any of you wish to put your Princess in any danger?” Their response is immediate, all of them shaking their heads as they step aside to make space for the King, letting him walk away.

Your feet move faster than your mind does, rushing through the palace hallways with Daniela and Taehyun trying to catch up behind you. “You need slow down, they aren't going to run anywhere,” Seungcheol tells you but you went his words out, not even glancing his way. You'll pay your attention to him once you know everyone is safe again. You'll give him all your attention then, no questions asked.

Thanks to only looking ahead, you don't notice the stares you get from staff around you, or the way your lady and knight get lost behind you, only stopping once Seungcheol grabs your hand and forces you to. His tug makes you spin around, crashing against his chest. You don't step back, simply looking up at his chocolate eyes. “Slow down,” he breathes out. Your cheeks heat up, and you aren't sure if it is because of how close you are standing or embarrassment. Possibly both.

“I'm sorry,” you blurt out, gently pressing your palm against his chest as you push yourself back. His grip on your hand only tightens, keeping you close.

“Don't apologize, don't distance yourself from me. Stay with me.” Your eyes wince, lips falling apart but no words come out. So instead, you nod, glancing at your connected hands as you slowly lace your fingers with his. You catch his eyes falling to them as well, his fingers carefully closing around yours. “Let's have dinner tonight,” he says softly, and even though it's not a question, his gaze is uncertain, as if trying to read your thoughts.

“I'd like that,” you agree and his eyes soften, the nervousness you saw washing off. “Just the two of us,” you add for him, a small smile tugging on your lips.

“Just the two of us.”

You don't let go of his hand as you walk trough the halls, this time actually carrying yourself as the Queen you are supposed to be. You are well aware how it must have looked like, what your servants must be saying about you now, but it cannot be changed. Somehow though, with Seungcheol by your side, it doesn't feel as bad as it probably should. It doesn't scare you as much.

As soon as you step outside, you are greeted with your mother's smile as she takes in the sight of you and your husband holding hands. You excuse yourself from him, rushing to your family. “Darling,” your mother's hands rest on your arms, in what seems like a reassuring gesture. “You shine with happiness.”

“You looks beautiful,” Nari joins in and your eyes trail to your younger siblings. Does it look like you shine with happiness? You find yourself thinking about the King a few feet away from you, talking with the knights about something you can't make out. You wouldn't say happiness is the right words, you aren't sure if you can even put a name to what you feel when it comes to him. There are many emotions you could think off — joy, trust, adoration, crave, but also pain, fear, defeat — and together they all mix into confusion.

“Is everyone okay?” You scan them as carefully as you can, deciding not to acknowledge any of their comments at you. You aren't who's important right now, they are. “Everyone is fine,” your father's attention redirects to you, but his words don't reassure you as much as you'd hope. Something simply feels off, like this isn't over just yet.

“How about you take your sisters to the guest chambers and we'll meet you later, darling? We shall greet His Majesty and congratulate him to the wedding.” She doesn't congratulate you to the wedding but you don't mention it, watching her approach your husband.

“It's not fair, I want to go with you,” your brother complains, crossing his arms over his chest. It makes you chuckle as you softly pat his head, promising him you'll steal him later and you'll be able to spend time just the two of you. That seems to work, his eyes sparkling as he runs off to join your mother with a giggle.

“He acts like such a child,” your youngest sister shakes her head and you raise an eyebrow at her, eyeing her up and down.

“And you are so much better?”

“No, she isn't,” Nari scoffs, pushing her younger sister forward and telling her to mind herself before she gets in trouble with the Queen. You shake your head at them. You missed this, honestly. You missed your family and having them everywhere you go. In a sense, it made Veloria feel empty. Nowhere you'd go would you find your siblings running around and making a mess, which just feels odd. Thankfully, that can now change.

“Dinner,” Seungcheol mouths to you as you pass him to assure himself your plan is still on your mind. You nod, your lips seeled together as you try to contain your smile. It's silly, it is just dinner, nothing big. But you feel excited, looking forward to your night. You know you shouldn't get your hopes up considering what happened last night but something tells you he won't run from you again, that this time you might actually sleep in the same bed as your husband.

You lead your youngest sister into her chamber, asking the knight already waiting in front of her room to keep an eye on her. He simply nods, just like you expected him to. “Where to next?” Nari asks, wondering where her chamber will be.

“How would you like to check the Queen's chambers?”

“What?” Her eyes widen and she stops in her tracks. “Wait, no. You cannot.”

“I can,” you assure her. “I'm on my honeymoon,” you grin proudly. “I share a room with my husband now, which leaves my chamber empty. It deserves your love so it doesn't age badly.” You both know it won't, that there are maids taking care of your place even while you are out, but that doesn't stop you from wanting Nari to take it.

“Do you not mind?”

“Not at all,” you shake your head. “In fact, please stay there.” You watch as she bites back her smile, her eyes betraying her and telling you everything you need to know — she wants to stay there.

Leading her into her new chamber, you let her tell you about their trip to Elowen and back. You listen closely, trying to find anything that would explain the attack, anything that would give you a clue. It all just leads to the middle of nowhere, and you are stuck wondering what could have possibly went wrong.

Your family has always had enemies, of course, but it was never like this. Your father made some bad choices, made alliances with the wrong people in the past, but when you were leaving your home, everything was well.

Your name leaves Nari's lips, snapping you out of your thoughts. You glance at her, questioning her with her eyes. “How is it like?”

“How is what like?” You tilt your head in confusion, opening the door for her and following her inside her new chamber. Her eyes immediately scan the room, taking in the beautiful sight. You remember standing in the same place she does when you arrived for the first time, your eyes just as wide.

“How is it like being married?” Her eyes find yours again. You freeze, the spark of want in her eyes catching you off guard. It's this exact moment that makes you miss your family even more, knowing that something happened when you weren't there for her. It's only been a few weeks since you last saw your sister but it feels like ages. You wish you could have been there when thoughts like these started occurring in her mind, when someone who made her want to know of this stuff showed up.

“It's…” you hesitate, rethinking your words. “Thrilling,” you breathe out when the memory of last night appears in your head, the softness of Seungcheol's lips on yours still vivid. You can see him in front of you, in his shirt and messy hair, with his eyes full of hesitance before he closed the space between you, his lips crashing with yours. “And beautiful.” The memory of Seungcheol running away after kissing you flashes in front of your eyes but you push it aside, deciding to ignore it. “But at the same time, I don't feel like much changed.”

Nari hums. “Do you like being married to him?”

“I do,” you answer without hesitation. “I like him, I cannot imagine not liking being married to him.”

“I'm glad,” she mumbles, taking a seat on the bed. “I was worried when we were leaving,” she admits. “About how you were going to do here on your own, if you'll be fine. I even debated asking our parents to stay longer, to stay here as long as possible, but I'm happy to see you happy.”

You smile at her. It's nice to know now that you are gone, your family still has someone looking out for them. “I am,” you assure her. “I do feel happy.”

“Do you think I'd be happy in a marriage?”

“I think you will always have a place in here if anyone makes you question if you are happy or not, even if it's for just a brief second.” She grins, and you take a seat beside her. “Is there a specific someone you are asking this for?”

She looks down into her lap, debating if she should tell you or not. “Me and Lord Nishimura have been exchanging letters ever since the banquet, and I look forward to hearing from him every day,” she finally says, not looking up from her lap. Oh? Every part of you wishes you would have gotten to know him better when he was here for the coronation, that you would have asked him a bunch of different things about him and his place of origin. Maybe you still can. Someone surely knows of him here.

“Does he make you happy?” Is all you need to ask for now, though. All your other questions can wait for later, for someone else. What matters now is how your sister feels.

“Yes,” she nods, meeting your eyes to prove her point. “I think he does.” You hum, a soft smile spreading across your lips as you reach for her hand.

“In that case, just keep doing what are were until now. What's important, is how you feel.”

“What if…” she averts her eyes, gazing at your connected hands. It's been long since you held her hand, since you had the opportunity to be her big sister. You can't remember the last time you sat with just her, talking about whatever that has been bothering her. You need to fix that. You need to find time to spend with all your siblings now that they are here again. “What if they pick someone else for me, though? You haven't married for love either.”

You squeeze her hand. “You are still so young, Nari. You have yet to learn about the world and yourself. You shouldn't have to worry about marriage.” She nods, but you can see how much she hesitates. “I'll talk with our parents,” you proclaim, settling your mind on it. “Yeah? I'll tell them you still have a lot of time and they shouldn't rush you into anything. Trust me, they don't want to go against the Queen of Veloria.” A laugh bubbles out of her and you feel relief washing over you at the same time.

“Not to disrespect you, but I think they won't care as long as they have the King's reassurance of their alliance.”

“Well, then it's a good thing I'm having dinner with him and can ask him to stand by me instead of them,” you grin, standing up from the bed. “Which brings me, I shall prepare. I will see you again, though.” She nods, her smile now much more comfortable.

“Have fun tonight.”

“I will,” you smile back at her.

♡⸝⸝

“This one is it, trust me,” Dani nods proudly as she brings a dress from the rack in the very corner of the room that one of your maids brought when you asked them to prepare you for a dinner with His Majesty. You eye it up and down, your lips seeled together. Her smile falls immediately, a heavy sigh leaving her lips. “No?” You shake your head, apology written all over your face. “Alright, just pick which ever one you like. But if it's ugly, we will seriously need to talk.”

You chuckle, nodding as you make your way towards her, gently running your fingers over the dresses you posses. It's only a small portion of what you actually own, most of your dresses still in the wardrobe in your chambers. It's only for a week that you are supposed to stay in this room, and apparently for those reasons it's not needed for them to bring all your clothes here. You'd like to argue, but you're not even sure if Seungcheol would appreciate you taking over his space. So for now, this will have to do.

“This one,” a smile tugs in the corner of your lips as you take down the same pink dress you wore to your first dinner here, your love for them still the same as that day.

“You have worn that one already,” Daniela points out and you agree. “It is rather plain, Your Majesty,” she adds but despite her dislike, you want to go out in this one. “Okay,” she nods when she notices the plea in your eyes, motioning towards one of the maids to help you out with it. “You have this beige undergarments, I think it'll go perfectly with it.”

“Actually,” you tilt your head sheepishly. “I don't think this dress needs one, right?” Glancing at the maid taking your dress off your hands, you catch her off guard.

“Whatever Her Majesty deems appropriate,” she blurts out quickly and you smile, meeting Dani's eyes again.

“What do you think?”

“I think you are finally speaking my language,” she breathes out a soft laugh, shaking her head at you. “And I'm sure His Majesty will love it too,” she assures you, hurrying you into the washroom. “Now, let's make sure you are fresh and clean as well.”

It's dark outside when you make it into the dinning room. Taehyun excuses himself in front of the door, letting you walk in on your own and taking his position. You smile at him, telling him to relax a bit. He doesn't listen though, keeping his eyes ahead without acknowledging what you just said. Of course he does, he is an amazing knight.

“My apologizes for being late, Your Majesty,” you smile, the door closing behind you. Seungcheol raises his head from the table, his eyes widening immediately upon laying on you. You watch as his expression softens and he motions for one of the guards behind him to pull your chair.

“You are as gorgeous tonight as always, Your Majesty,” he smiles back at you, taking in the sight of you. It honestly feels like a dream. He is unable to take his eyes off you, every inch of his body itching to hold you, to be able to touch your curves and press his lips to yours again. He watches you as you walk to take a seat on the opposite side of the table, quickly stopping you. “Bring Her Majesty a chair besides me. What is with the stupid tradition of man and wife sitting so far away.”

You bite back your smile as you walk over to him, taking a seat on his left. You glance around the room, acknowledging the two knights keeping you company as Seungcheol's knee brushes with yours under the table. It only takes one look from him for the two of them to leave the room, leaving you all alone.

“I love this dress,” Seungcheol breaks the quiet, your smile only widening. “It might be a close second to the one you wore to my coronation.”

“You remember the dress I wore to the coronation?” Your eyes widen. He shrugs like it's no big deal, reaching for your hand on top of the table. You gladly let him wrap his fingers around yours, your eyes flickering between his hand and face.

“I'm confident I could point out every dress you wore around me since you arrived.” You realize you don't need much to feel happy. As long as you are with him, everything he does makes you excited and your cheeks flush.

“I doubt that,” you shake your head, averting your eyes. He squeezes your hand, trying to get you to look at him again. You don't though, too embarrassed to meet his eyes.

Your name leaves his lips, soft and elegant. His voice rings in your ears, making your heart beat faster. You are absolutely gone for him, so terribly gone. You are convinced none of the authors you read up until now were actually in love. The way you feel when you are with him can't compare to anything you have read, the emotions simply too strong to be put into words on paper.

“You consume so much of me I'd have to be blind not to notice and remember everything about you.” And there he goes again, messing with your head. It'd take a miracle for you not to feel like the luckiest person for being able to share these moments with him.

“Stop talking,” you mumble, your voice barely above a whisper. Your head is a mess, the image of him splattered everywhere, the memory of your kiss in the back of your mind and his words repeating in your head. You consume so much of me. How are you supposed to just go on about your dinner? Choi Seungcheol is insane. Absolutely insane. There is no other explanation.

“Baby, look at me.” His words bring you back to earth, your eyes shooting up to his immediately. There is a sheepish smile on his lips, his cheeks catching a hint of pink as well — even though he has yet to match your color. “I mean it.”

You open your mouth to answer, to tell him just how much he means to you, that you love spending time with him, that you love being his wife, that you'd love to kiss him, that you love him, but you don't get the chance to, closing your mouth again when a bunch of servants comes in, carrying your dinner.

You straighten your back, pulling your hand away from his as they set plates in front of you. You can feel his eyes on you as you do, but you don't have the courage to meet them, a part of you too scared he'll tell you he takes it back, or that maybe this isn't what he wants. Clearing your throat, you do your best to focus on the food instead of the man beside you and his knee that is still pressed against yours.

“May I have a question?” You whisper when everyone leaves and you are alone again.

“Always,” he encourages you, taking a bite of his steak.

“Do you know Lord Nishimura?” He tilts his head confusedly, obviously not a question he expected. And if he is honest, it doesn't feel the greatest having you ask him about a different man after he has opened himself to you without getting an answer. He feels vulnerable — a feeling he is starting to despise.

“Not much,” he shrugs, as if it didn't bother him at all. He knows it's probably stupid, that he is thinking about stuff that might have not even crossed your mind, but he can't help it. He is starting to realize he cares more than he'd want to admit.

“He's been sending letters to my sister,” you explain, as if you could read his mind, riding him off all his worries.

“Which one?” His eyes narrow and you roll your eyes, a bit worried he'd even consider you are talking of your thirteen year old sister.

“Nari. She said they've been writing letters to each other since they met at the banquet. He seemed fine but, I don't know, I think I just wanted to make sure you didn't know of anything I shall look out for.”

Seungcheol smiles again, assuring you that even thought he doesn't know him much, he hasn't heard of anything that should make you overthink this. “But if it'll make you calmer, we could ask Seungkwan tomorrow. It is a part of his job to know everyone, so I am sure he will be able to answer your questions better.”

“Thank you,” you whisper with a smile, the way he talks of you as a duo, a pair, only making you happier.

A comfortable silence settles over you as you eat your food, stealing glances at your husband every once in a while. He catches you each time, his eyes meeting yours with a smile. You return his smile, finding yourself only falling for him more and more.

He places his cutlery down on his plate, tilting his head slightly as his eyes rest on you. You pretend like you don't see it, but you are pretty sure your flushed cheeks give you away. “Tell me about flowers,” he says and you almost choke on your own saliva. His eyes widen, his hand on your back in an instance, panic rushing through his veins. You shake your head in the air, bringing a glass of water to your lips to prevent any more coughing.

“You want me to tell you about flowers?” You ask, gazing into his worried eyes. They soften when he sees you are okay, and he relaxes again, nodding. Choi Seungcheol, possibly the greatest man you have met in your entire life, wants you to talk about flowers, your favorite thing in the world. The universe really took his time with this one, building him to an absolute perfection. “What do you want to know?”

“Anything. Why do you love them so much? All of your favorites, and if I should ask the gardeners to plant any of your favorites or if we have them all already.”

You find yourself melting slowly, your adoration for him only growing. Setting down your cutlery as well, you bite back your smile, thinking about your answer to all of them. “There is many kinds, it is incredibly hard to pick just one favorite. Lilies are beautiful, and seemingly many people's favorite, but so are tulips and orchids.”

“Which one is your favorite?” He prompts.

You hesitate, thinking about all the beauties the Veloria gardens have to offer. “Freesias, I suppose. They are the first flowers I took into my room after arriving here.”

“But those can't be the first flowers you loved.”

“They aren't,” you agree. “But they became my favorite the moment I set them in my chamber. I took them after our first dinner, when I was wearing this very dress.” His eyes scan your body again at the mention of your clothes, taking his sweet time craving the image into his head. “When I first became interested in nature, it was lilies that spoke to me the most,” you admit. “But I was six then, and all I knew were the few kinds we grew in our gardens.”

He listens closely without interruptions. The interest in his eyes would be obvious from miles away, and it only makes you keep going. “Ours were nothing like yours, so I only knew a small portion of them. Then, when I was twelve, I started reading about flowers, what they mean, what colors they can have and which ones are used for what. They were always my escape, a home, if you know what I mean?” You meet his eyes, blushing.

“I think I do,” he nods, reaching for your hand. You hold his hand in yours, watching as he laces your fingers together. “A comfort, a place where you could be yourself. I was told that is the same reason my mother had our gardens build — so she could have a place to run to.” He hesitates for a second, scanning your face. “Is that why you've been in our gardens so much? Were you looking for a safe space?”

“In a way,” you nod. “I think I was. But I learned to find comfort somewhere else as well since I arrived, in someone else,” you admit. “But then after our kiss, when you ran away—” your voice breaks, the memory right in front of your eyes. “The gardens were the only comfort I trusted.”

“I'm sorry,” his voice sounds just as broken, everything about his expression making you believe he truly means it. “I was scared. And I know it's stupid.” You squeeze his hand, hoping to give him the reassurance he so desperately needs. “But I was scared of you. Of what it might mean if I let myself fall, if I allowed myself to be vulnerable.”

“I was raised to be strong, forced to believe a King must have everything under control, including his emotions for the prettiest girl he's ever seen. So I ran, I ran away and buried myself in work so I wouldn't be able to think about how much I just wanted to go back to you and kiss you again, sleep in the same bed with you and wrap myself around you.”

“Do all that today then,” you whisper, your eyes pleading as you gaze into his. “Don't run away again and stay with me.”

He doesn't need to be told twice, reaching with his free hand for your chair and pulling you closer. You yelp, caught off guard. But as soon as your legs rest between his and he leans closer, your eyes soften again. His lips press against yours and you can instantly feel sparks in your stomach. This is one thing they got right in the books — it truly feels like fireworks. His right hand cups your cheek, tilting your head as he deepens the kiss, his left hand squeezing your waist.

You push your plate aside as you rest your hand on the table, trying to steady yourself. But it's hard, your body not listening to you and melting into his touch. You don't even register him picking you up and pulling you into his lap, but when you open your eyes again you find yourself exactly there. His eyes search your face for any sign of discomfort but he doesn't find any. Cupping his cheeks, you take your time just admiring him. “I love you,” you whisper, the words spilling from your lips before you can stop them.

You watch as his eyes widen and something in him stops, a groan leaving his lips as his hand moves from your cheek to your neck, slightly pressing on the sides, his lips on yours again. Your eyes roll back, your legs weak. Everything about him — the way he looks at you, the way he holds you — makes your head spin, his presence consuming you.

Your hands wrap behind his neck, fingers tangling in his hair as you moan into his mouth, pleasure taking over you. You're not sure what is happening, why you get a sudden itch between your legs or why there is so many butterflies in your stomach, but you know you don't want him to stop kissing you.

“Seungcheol,” his name leaves your lips, a quiet, broken, plea. He seems to understand your needs much more than you do, nodding into the kiss.

“I got you,” he promises, his voice ringing in your ears.

Seungcheol scoops you up in his arms, erupting a laugh out of you, a sound he is learning to be obsessed with. You hold tightly onto him, your arms wrapped around his neck. “I should have carried you like this to bed on our wedding night,” he shakes his head, regretting all his choices.

“You are doing it now,” you remind him, a smile decorating your already beautiful face. He is unable to take his eyes off you, knocking onto the door with his feet so someone would open them for him. Without waiting for the door, his mouth presses against yours again, similar smile you carry on his lips.

“Your Majesty—” Taehyun stops mid sentence, stepping aside to create more space for the two of you. Seungcheol pulls away from you for a moment, only so he can speak to him. “We won't be needing an escort,” he proclaims. “You can send guards to our door in,” he glances at you, taking in the sight of your innocent eyes batting your eyelashes at him. “Just take your time,” he finishes, not looking at him again as he claims your lips, carrying you into his chambers.

The moment your feet hit the ground again, his hands are on your waist, squeezing as much flesh as he can gather in his hands, pushing you back until your back is flat against the door. “Cheol,” you moan, your head falling back. Your lips are swollen at this point but it only makes him want to kiss you more, knowing he is the one who has turned you into such mess. Your entire body burns, needing to be closer to him.

“You asked about children,” he mumbles, his lips tracing wet kissing down your neck, paying attention to every bit of skin he can reach. “How they are made.” A soft, barely audible, whimper escapes you, sending a shiver down his spine. He'll need to hear another one, one much louder preferably. “Let me show you.”

“Seungcheol,” you beg him, unsure what it even is you are asking for, tugging on his hair. His hand slowly moves onto your back, harshly tugging on the laces holding your dress in place. He moves with a plan in his head, not wasting any time at taking the awfully gorgeous dress off your body.

“Is this okay?” His eyes find yours, waiting for your approval before letting your dress drop to the floor. A loud groan slips from his lips at the sight of your bare skin, breast on full display. “You aren't wearing any undergarments,” he mumbles, the realization making his head spin. You hum, your cheeks flushed as you watch his reaction, your nerves obvious. But if there is one thing he wants to show you it's how you have no reason to feel nervous around him. “You are so beautiful,” he reminds you, cupping your breast with his hands. They fit perfectly, his cock twitching inside his pants.

“Do you want my baby, love?” He asks, his mouth a mere inch from yours. “Do you want me to show you how we could make one?” You nod, desperate to feel him closer, to have his body press against yours.

“Please,” you beg. He doesn't need to be told twice, squeezing your breast in his hands before slowly kissing his way down your body until he is kneeling in front of you. Your fingers tangle in his hair in an instance, the sight of him on his knees, with his eyes glued to yours, making you moan again. His lips press to your bare thighs, taking his time showing love to all of you. Leaving a few marks behind, he faces your glistening pussy, all wet and ready for him.

“Have you ever…touched yourself?” You quickly shake your head at his question, your cheeks only turning more and more red. “There is this place,” he starts, carefully sliding his fingers between your folds. “That brings you pleasure, that makes you feel good,” his thumb presses against your clit, his eyes staying on your face to watch for your reactions. Your eyebrows furrow together, lips tightly pressing together as you try to contain the lewd sounds building in your throat in.

Your hips buck forwards on instincts, creating a smirk on his lips. “Do you trust me, my love?” He asks and you nod without hesitation, giving him all of you. Collecting your wetness on his fingers, he slowly thrusts his middle finger into your hole, slowly testing the waters. Your mouth falls open, your moans filling his ears as he wraps his lips around your bud.

If Seungcheol is anything, it's talented. Both of your hands find his hair as soon as his tongue slides over your clit, adding second finger. A part of you wants to pull him away, get rid of the intense pleasure he makes you feel, but a bigger part of you wants to pull him even closer. Glancing up at you, he continues working you with his mouth. Pulling his fingers out and making you whimper, he moves his hand to the back of your thigh, pulling your leg over his shoulder and telling you to hold onto him. You do, listening to his every word.

His tongue slides between your folds, his nose rubbing against your clit. His hums against your wet pussy make you shiver, back arching onto him. Your desperate cries only drive him crazier, precum leaking through his undergarments as he laps on your pussy.

There have been women he fucked before, women he went home with to relieve the build up tension — but never like this. He's never wished to have anyone as close as you are, and he's certainly never wanted anyone to come on his tongue so badly. Usually, he'd just quickly get it over with, chasing his own pleasure and then out, but not with you. He wants to take his time with you, devour every inch of you and take care of you. He'd be damned if he doesn't make you come multiple times tonight.

“Cheol!” You gasp, making him wince as you pull on his hair. He might end up with a bald spot at this point but he doesn't care enough, convinced this is all worth it. Your release comes crashing down on you, your eyes rolling back and hips rocking forward as he licks you clean, not letting a single bit go to waste.

He pushes back, ignoring the painfully hard cock in his pants and letting his eyes trail your body. Your legs shake, the orgasm obviously much stronger than he thought it was. It makes sense, he supposes. This is the first orgasm you felt after all. The realization hits him like lighting, his eyes widening and his cock twitching again. He is the first person to make you come. He is the first person to make you feel this good. God, he has a problem.

“Come here,” he whispers and you allow yourself to fall into his arms, your body visibly exhausted. “Can I continue?” He asks, his voice nothing if not gentle as he brushes your sweaty hair behind your ears.

“Continue?” You blink, causing a low chuckle to escape his lips.

“Babies don't come from this alone,” he explains, rubbing his fingers between your folds again. “You need to get my sperm into this pretty cunt of yours,” he thrusts two fingers inside, stretching you out. “But we don't have to do anything today,” he assures you, pressing a kiss to your temple. “We can go to bed and sleep. We have our entire lives ahead together for that.” As soon as the words leave his lips his cheeks flush, the idea of spending the rest of his live together making him much more excited than he'd want to admit.

You shake your head, cupping his cheeks. His eyes gaze into yours, finding himself falling even deeper for you. “Give me a baby, Seungcheol. I wanna carry your baby.” If he was feeling feral before, he can't quite put a name to the desire that takes over him now, his entire body moving quicker than he can comprehend. A giggle bubbles out of you as he carries you to the bed, his lips glued to yours as he cups your breast again, rolling your nipples between his fingers. Your hands lock on the back of his neck, pulling him as close as possible.

“You make me lose my mind,” he mumbles between kisses, never staying away for too long. “Did you cast a spell on me?” You laugh, the sound echoing in his ears.

“Obviously,” you smile, watching as he pushes back and fights with the buttons on his shirt, hating being apart for so long. You sit up, helping him get his clothes off.

Everything is gone in seconds, all of his clothes splattered over the floor. It is certainly an ego boost, watching as your eyes trail down his body, gawking at his naked skin. Your pretty hand wraps around his cock, your eyes flickering to his. It's barely anything, just a brush of your fingers, but it makes him twitch nonetheless, every inch of him itching to see you jerk him off. The image of your lips wrapped around him flashes in front of his eyes, making him groan. There will be another time for that, he has to remind himself.

“Lay down, pretty. I'll take care of you, hm?” You look up at him through your lashes, the big puppy eyes you give him making him adore you even more. He watches you as you follow his words, your lips slightly parted and eyes sparkling with expectation. Settling between your legs, his lips find yours again, allowing you to focus on the kiss as he collects your wetness on his tip, rubbing his cock on your heat.

“Just focus on me, okay?” You nod, trusting him fully. Your lips fall apart, a soft gasp escaping when he pushes the tip in, giving you all the time you need to adjust. He doesn't rush, doesn't force you into anything. His thrusts are slow and controlled, the urge to chase his own orgasm as quickly as possible pushed aside when he is with you. He might have been with other women before you, but this is the first time it feels like this — like it actually matters.

Praises slip off his lips without him thinking much about what he is saying, one of his hands resting beside your head and keeping him up while the other plays with your breast, unable to get enough of how well they fit in his palm. The longer he looks at you, the more convinced he is he won in life. There is no one more incredible than you he'd want to spend his life with.

“Does this feel good?” You don't answer, broken whines leaving your lips instead. It makes him chuckle, loving how good he makes you feel. Your moans fill his ears as he slowly picks up his speed, feeling your walls squeeze around him. Your eyes are filled with lust as you look at him, his name falling off your lips like a prayer. With your hips rocking forward, your orgasm comes crashing down onto you faster than he thought it would. He wanted to come with you, but this will have to do as well.

Your name falls off his lips as he chases his own orgasm, only needing a few more thrusts after you. You gummy walls clench around him, driving him over the edge. Seungcheol's groan rings in your ears as he finishes inside you, thrusting a few more times just to make sure nothing leaves your body. As soon as he pulls back, he misses the feeling of your warmth. His eyes trail down your body, taking in the sight. He'll have to look at your every night to be satisfied. He doubts he'll ever get enough of looking at you.

“That was amazing,” you breathe out and his eyes find yours. A smile spreads on his lips, his eyes soft.

“You were amazing,” he proclaims, brushing the messy strands of your hair aside. “Do you feel okay?” You nod, because the truth is, you feel better than ever before.

“Is this what people do to make children?”

He nods, “It doesn't always have to be just to expect children. We can do this as much as you'd like. Just because. Just because we are married and love each other.” Your flushed cheeks and fucked out eyes make you absolutely stunning, the messy side of you attracting him as much as the put together one he saw earlier at dinner.

“Good,” you laugh. “It feels good.”

Seungcheol leans down, kissing your lips again. He falls down beside you, his arms wrapping around your waist before pulling you into his chest, closing his eyes. Tonight is going to be a great night. It might be the first night he gets to sleep beside you at night, but he certainly doesn't intend for it to be the last one. This is only the beginning.

You feel different when you wake up. It might be because of the man you wake up next to, or maybe it's because of the warm shower you take as soon as you get out of bed.

Who are you kidding, it's definitely because of Seungcheol.

His arms stayed wrapped around you throughout the entire night, his touch keeping you warm. You thought their pillows were incredible when you arrived, but now you know nothing compares to the feeling of sleeping on your lover's chest.

Or the feeling of his cock sliding between your folds as soon as you are both awake while he presses kisses all over your shoulders and back. You definitely don't mind getting used to this. You learned about love from books, about how such emotion was supposed to look and feel like, but you are starting to realize pages don't show you everything you need to know. If they told you about this part of love — the lewd noises and messy kisses — you are sure you would have wanted a husband much sooner. If you only knew about what it truly meant to be married, you wouldn't be so opposed to the idea.

When you shared your thoughts with your husband his smile fell off, muttering under his breath how he is glad you didn't in fact get married before he was looking for a wife. It made you laugh. It only took a few kisses and secret promises of forever to get his mood back up, both of you smiling as you left the chamber to do your own things.

“You have sparks in your eyes, Your Majesty,” Daniela's voice is teasing as she looks at you, a knowing smile on her face. “Did you have fun with His Majesty last night? On the dinner, of course.” You roll your eyes but a smile spreads on your lips. You meet her eyes, shrugging as if you had no idea what she's talking about. You are starting to understand her. The comments she's made before about men, comments you were certain would ruin her reputation if anyone caught her — it makes sense now. You don't blame her. In fact, you are quite certain you'll be craving your husband's touch a lot from now on, itching to be with him whenever you are apart.

“Are you certain you want to spend you honeymoon with me instead of your husband, Your Majesty?” Seungkwan asks you, his eyes nervously flickering between you and your lady. You don't have to turn around to know Daniela is giving him a look.

“I shall know what is best for me, don't you think?” He quickly agrees with you, blurting out apologies. “Besides, my husband is busy trying to find out who attacked my family. I couldn't be with him either way,” you glance at your lady, explaining it to her rather than the Head Advisor in front of you. She simply smiles at you, acting all innocent. Shaking your head at her, you walk forwards, taking a seat at the head of the table where you breakfast already lays. Taking a sip of your morning tea, you find Seungkwan with your eyes again. “I wanted to ask you about Lord Nishimura.”

“Nishimura?” He repeats, tilting his head slightly. You see the exact moment the name clicks and he connects it to a face. “Oh, yes,” he nods. “What would you like to know?”

“Do you think he is a nice man?”

“That isn't as easy to say as you'd like it to be, Your Majesty.” You hum, knowing he is right. The world isn't just black and white, there isn't just good or bad, but it'd still ease your mind if he could tell you yes. “I can tell you I haven't heard of anything that would make me think otherwise. As far as I know, he is a great swordsman and even though his studies weren't the greatest, he is growing into a well trained man.”

“My sister might hold an interest in him,” you explain, taking a bite. “And I'm simply worried if she isn't going to get hurt.”

“Did you have any certainty you wouldn't get hurt coming here, Your Majesty?” He asks back. Some might take it as a form of disrespect, but you simply smile, knowing what he means. Of course you didn't. You had no idea what to expect of Veloria and after arriving, you spent every free minute hiding in the gardens looking for an escape. He is right, there is no way to know without risking it.

“Thank you,” you smile at him, a quiet understanding passing between you. He smiles back, looking down at the table. “You should eat with me before you go.”

“Oh, no, Your Majesty,” he quickly shakes his head. “I shouldn't. In fact, I should get back to work soon. His Majesty only allowed me to miss the meeting because it was you who wanted to speak with me.”

“I insist. If you get into any trouble, I will talk to my husband about it and make sure he understands,” you smile, trying to focus on the man ahead of you and not the scene with Seungcheol beneath you that paints in your head. A part of you wishes for Seungkwan to get into trouble, simply so you could have a chat about it with your husband. Preferably one that involves less talking and more of your new favorite activity.

Seungkwan opens his mouth, probably to convince you otherwise, you assume, but he is interrupted by the door opening, two knights rushing into the room. “Mr. Boo,” he blurts out without acknowledging you. It sparks your interest, your head tilting to the side to see better. “We are here to escort you into the study room.”

“Why shall that be?” You interrupt, having all three men turn to you.

“Your Majesty,” the knights bow quickly, realizing their mistake. “My apologies for interrupting your breakfast. We have a direct command to bring Mr. Boo to His Majesty as soon as possible.” He doesn't tell you more, doesn't explain what is so urgent that they have to take him away from you. You don't question it further either, glancing at Daniela instead. She understands exactly what you want to say without any words needed, nodding to you.

Quickly standing up from the table, you follow the knights and Seungkwan out of the room, only to be met with a knight much more familiar to you. “Your Majesty, wait here,” he stands in your way and you are forced to watch the knights leave without you.

“Taehyun, don't stand in our way right now. What if something happened?” Daniela speaks up and his gaze shifts to her immediately, apology written all over his eyes. It only makes you more worried. What could have possibly happened for them to be acting like this? “Taehyun,” she tilts her head, worries written all over her face. “What is going on?”

He mimics her movement, his head tilting as he whispers an apology towards her. It's your turn to push at him, demanding to know what is going on and if anything happened to your husband. “There is a lead,” he finally admits. “And I have an order from His Majesty to keep you far away from there, no matter how much you ask me to take you to him or if you give me an order.” Your eyebrows furrow together in confusion. How can he think you'll leave it all to him again? God damn it, he has a wife now to stand by his side, so why does he keep trying to take care of everything on his own?

“It is for your safety, Your Majesty,” he assures you. His eyes fall to your lady again, hesitating. “My order only applies to Her Majesty, so I cannot stop you if you want to follow them, but I beg you.” Your eyes flicker between the two of them, realization settling in. Oh. Oh god. Were you so focused on your new relationship with Seungcheol you didn't notice one of your closest people falling in love? “Stay here. Let me protect you both for once.”

She sighs, nodding in defeat. You watch as relief washes over him, deciding not to make it any harder on him today. Turning around, you walk back into the dinning room with Dani and Taehyun right behind you, settling back in your chair. “Can you at least explain to me what's happening out there? What lead do they have?”

His hesitation is clear as day, fighting with himself about if he should tell you or not. “I don't know everything. Actually, I'm sure I don't know even half of it. But I caught a bit of their conversation, saying it might be someone from the palace.”

“From the palace? My parents' palace?” You question, all kinds of possibilities running through your head. You can't imagine anyone you grew up alone being behind this. It doesn't make sense. Your father has made enemies, but surely not with anyone on the inside, right?

“Your palace, Your Majesty,” he corrects you, making your eyes widen. This place. This very place you are ruling. That makes even less sense. Why would anyone from your people attack your family? You haven't had a proper chance to introduce yourself to them, thou you couldn't have angered anyone. Right?

“Taehyun, take me to my husband,” you ask but it's really a command. He shakes his head, refusing. “Taehyun. I mean it when I say I will convince him to fire you if you don't take me to him right now. Your job is to protect me, so protect me while I run towards danger.” His eyes flicker from you to Daniela, trying to see her reaction. You can almost see the internal fight he is having and you hate being the one forcing him into this situation. There is nothing you can do, though. You need to be a part of this.

“Okay, fine,” he sighs. “But try not to make my job any harder, could you?” You grin, jumping up from your chair again. “Your Majesty, please,” you can hear the regret in his voice but you don't acknowledge it, simply walking out of the dinning room, heading straight for the study room.

As soon as you push the door wide open you feel all the eyes in the room on you. You do your best not to show your anxiety, clearing your throat and straightening your back. “What are you doing here?” Seungcheol's eyes narrow at you before glancing at your knight. “Weren't you supposed to keep her safe away from all of this?”

You hear Taehyun gulp beside you unsure of what to say, and decide to jump in before he can. “Why do you keep doing this?” You question, everything about your tone giving away that you are upset. “Why do you keep trying to push me away instead of asking for my help? I thought we were done with this!”

A few whispers from the side catch your attention but you keep your eyes on your husband, watching as his shield slowly falls apart, his fight mode turning into something much calmer — something you love much more. There is an apology written all over his eyes, making you sigh. He motions with his head for you to join and you do, giving him one last disappointed look before taking his side. His arm wraps around your waist within seconds. “I didn't mean it like that,” he whispers so only you can hear. You only hum back, eying the council members in front of you.

“Who will explain to me what is going on?”

You watch the men exchange a look, debating what to do. It is only when Seungcheol prompts them to continue that they do, and you hate how even though you are their Queen just as much as he is their King, you still need his approval for people to listen to you. “As I was saying,” Kaito clears his throat. “Our next move should be finding William and arresting him as quickly as we can.”

“William?” Your eyes widen. There is only one William from the palace you've heard of, and it is hard to believe someone like him would be behind an attack on your family. “The previous Head Advisor?”

“We think it's his response to how I treated him on the coronation day. He wasn't aware I was replacing him, and probably wasn't happy with how I announced it either,” Seungcheol explains, his grip on your waist tightening — a possessive movement that makes your head spin. You know it's no time for that right now but he makes you weak in the knees. “He never liked the idea of us getting married either, so I think it all just pilled up. I'm sorry it is my fault your family got attacked,” the last sentence stays a secret between just the two of you, a whisper he hates saying out loud. It eats him alive, knowing he is causing you pain even after everything.

♡⸝⸝

You aren't sure how long you stand here for. Time blurs together as you listen to all the men talking, only some of their words sticking with you. You know the important — they have a plan how to get William. Taehyun and the rest of the knights leave the room, going to collect as many people as possible. The council and Seungkwan follow right after, leaving you alone with your husband.

Seungcheol takes a seat on his chair, spreading his legs apart and pulling you between them. You look down at him, holding his hands as he takes the sight of you in. “I'm sorry,” he apologizes without hesitation, squeezing your hands in his. You don't say anything, keeping your eyes on his. “I don't mean to push you away — I never want to push you away. Protecting my people is what I know the best, and my first instinct was to keep you save far away from this, with someone I know would protect you when I cannot.”

“It is the thought of you hurt that makes me act like a fool, because the truth is, I am a fool. I turn into a fool when it comes to you. I am sorry you felt like I was pushing you away. Those were never my intentions,” he assures you and a heavy sigh leaves your lips.

You sit in his lap, looking down at your connected hands. “I know. I know, love.”

“And I am also sorry for bringing all this onto your family. I should have never replaced him, none of this would have happened if I just learned to rule with him by my side.”

You shake your head, letting go of his hands so you could cup his face. “It is not your fault. You did everything right,” you proclaim. “I would hate to see you miserable and we both know ruling with William on your side would make you feel that way. And who knows, maybe he would have found a different reason, maybe he would have targeted you instead. You can't blame yourself for what happened.”

“You are the definition of perfection,” a soft laugh bubbles from his lips as he shakes his head in disbelieve — disbelieve that he gets to be here with you, share moments with you, and call you his. Closing the space between you, his lips press onto yours, letting you forget for a moment where you are and why you are here. You let him pull you closer and tug your hair behind your ear, allowing yourself to enjoy the moment instead of thinking about what is happening outside of these four walls.

But you have to get back into reality no matter how much you wish otherwise, pulling away with a soft smile. “When this is all over,” you promise him, your palm resting on his chest. “Once everything is behind us and we can focus on just us.” He smiles back, agreeing.

“Once this is over,” he nods. “Lets have dinner together.” You roll your eyes, remembering where your dinner night lead to last time. Not that you would be complaining. “So you can tell me how it's possible Taehyun brought you here despite my direct order not to listen to any of your orders,” a smile tugs at his lips, one you absolutely adore.

You shrug, acting all innocent. “What can I say, I have that effect on people,” you smile, trying to stand up. He only tugs you back, pulling you onto him. His eyes are narrowed, trying to read your face. He is jealous, that much would be clear to anyone. If he gets like this when he is jealous, you might have to make him feel that way more. “Relax, I have threatened to fire him if he didn't listen to me. I convinced him I have you wrapped around my finger and if I said I want him gone you would do it.”

“You weren't lying,” he says without hesitation, making your grin widen.

“I know,” your smile is impossible to hide as you escape his hold, glancing over your shoulder as you walk to the door. “You should do your best to take care of this. I'll be waiting for you in our chambers.” You disappear from the room before he can say anything, giggling as you think about the look on his face — his eyes wide, excited.

Being married is thrilling and beautiful, you explained that to Nari perfectly.

If there is one thing Seungcheol appreciates, it's having you by his side.

You stood by him through it all, holding his hand when he announced to his people a betrayal happened within the palace walls, and you were there to explain to them he has been arrested by your best knights when he couldn't do so, feeling like it was all his fault.

William was brought in front of the council shortly after Taehyun and others left the study. When Seungcheol heard they found him in a local pub, taking with the common about secrets he's learned during his stay and bad mounting his ill father, his anger only grew. Taking revenge at him was one thing, holding it against him for humiliating him during his coronation was understandable too, but everything else was making his blood boil. How dared he? Attacking your family already crossed the line, but talking ill of his father who has done nothing but trusted William's judgment was only adding salt into the wound.

There was nothing he wanted to do more than wipe the awfully annoying smirk off William's face when he saw him. But you were there again, with your arms wrapped around his and reminding him where he stands.

It didn't take long to decide of his future, his punishment. The entire council agreed on a form worthy of his betrayals within minutes. But it was your opinion that mattered to him the most. If you agreed with the rest of his men, he wouldn't hesitate executing him in the center of the town for everyone to see. But deep down he knew that wasn't something you'd agree with, which was also why he waited for your comment.

And despite the council's arguments, trying to convince him such actions shall never be forgiven, he decided for exile. William might still be able to walk around, but far, far away from you or your family. And if he even dared to come close or conspire against the kingdom, he would make it his personal mission to get rid of him.

He was send away the following day along with the people conspiring with him. Turns out, his experience in the palace didn't teach him well enough who to have as a friend and who as an enemy. He's made many mistakes on his way, mistakes that helped the knight discover his plans and contacts.

Ever since, he'd like to say the palace became quite calm. Quiet even.

Well, except for the rather loud sounds he finds himself making every time he is with you alone. With his head thrown back and his hand in your hair, he has to bite back his groans. Despite knowing the throne room is empty, the thoughts of one of the knights passing by and hearing him through the closed door makes him do everything in his power to keep his voice down.

He's never thought of himself as someone loud. But then again, he also never thought of himself as someone worth finding love, someone who deserved all this attention you are giving him. Meeting you turned his entire world upside down in the best way, and he now finds himself learning something new about himself every day. For example, how desperately he wishes to have children, especially if it is with you.

“Fuck—” he curses, looking down at your lips wrapped around his cock. The simple scene has him twitching in your mouth and he has to fight himself not to come already. “Darling, you are going to make me lose my mind,” he groans, his free hand gripping the throne armrest. He watches you smirk, your tongue swirling over his tip. God dammit. He should have never taught you any of this. He should have just lived his life with eating you out instead of telling you there is a way for you to do the same. This is on him.

Even though he must say, you are doing an incredible job. You bat your eyelashes at him as you bob your head forward, making his eyes roll back. He didn't think becoming a King would mean having his cock sucked as he sits on the throne, but truth is, he cannot complain.

“I haven't bled yet,” you mumble when you pull back and the words echo in his ears. It is crazy just how much power you hold over him, how much your words can mess with his head. Because it is then, when he realizes what you mean that he finishes, covering your lips white. He watches your eyes widen, cursing under his breath again. That is far from how and where he wanted to cum.

“Can you repeat that?”

You laugh, licking your lips clean. Standing up from the floor and fixing your dress, you watch him with a sheepish smile. “It has been over a month since I bled last,” you repeat, your eyes falling to his cock to see if it does anything with him again. “I can't be sure, though.”

Your last words barely reach his ears as he reaches for your hand and pulls you onto him, his lips crashing with yours. You gasp from shock before melting into his touch, tilting your head as he kisses you. Seungcheol is convinced he will never get over how it feels to kiss you, how his head spins when he feels his lips on yours.

“I'll be a father,” a soft laugh full of disbelieve leaves his lips, making you smile. “And you'll be the mother of our kids. Our kids.” You nod, unable to control the excitement you feel when you look at him. Pressing your lips to his once again, you let him pull you onto his lap.

“Our kids,” you agree, loving how it sounds on your tongue. You share the same shock as he does, the realization just how far you have come settling in. It is unbelievable you get to spend the rest of your live with Seungcheol — the greatest man you have ever met — by your side. He makes everything better, easier. If it's with him, you truly believe fulfilling your duties isn't as unbearable as you once thought of them to be.