#triplesfanfic

The bright blue gates of our school were already in sight when a familiar voice called out, "Hey, Younghyu—" and as soon as I turned toward it, "OMG! What happened to you?" It was Nakyoung, her eyes wide with shock. I guess my sleepless state was more obvious than I thought.

"Nice to see you too, Naky," I huffed.

She walked closer, her expression shifting from surprise to concern. "Are you okay?" she asked, grabbing my face and tilting it side to side to get a better look.

"Do I look like I'm okay?" I mumbled as she manhandled my face, inspecting every unwanted blemish and dark circle. "I haven't had a good night's sleep in almost two weeks."

Being the studious, type-A person she is, Nakyoung is always prepared. She let go of my face and started digging through her purse, finally fishing out a box of pimple patches. "At least cover up your 'new friends,'" she teased, handing me the box. She pulled me toward a nearby bench and started applying them for me, trying to make me look at least half-presentable, even if I ended up looking like a sticker book.

When she was done, we made our way to the auditorium. We were a few minutes late, and the professor was already stepping up to the podium when we slipped in. They didn't seem to mind, so we found a couple of empty seats near the back, pulled out our laptops, and settled in to take notes on anything that might show up during exams week.

The professor launched into a lecture about the discovery of the Maiasaura and how it proved maternal instincts in dinosaurs—something researchers previously thought didn't exist, since they assumed dinosaurs were solitary creatures. It should have been fascinating. It was fascinating. But as the professor droned on, their voice started to fade, becoming muffled, like I was listening from underwater. My breathing grew heavy, and my eyelids felt like they were made of lead. I fought to stay focused, but it was a losing battle. Soon enough, I gave in. My head dropped, the professor's voice melted into a low hum, and darkness took over. Sleep had finally consumed me.

Then she appeared.

Everything was hazy, but I could clearly make out a figure looking directly at me. A woman. The first thing I noticed was her warm smile—the kind that could light up an entire city. Then, her beauty marks, perfectly placed under her eyes, on the bridge of her nose, and on her left cheek, as if a celestial being had carefully mapped them to help her guide wayward travelers like me. But what truly captivated me were her eyes: dark, dreamy, warm, and calming, yet with a hint of mischief. They felt like a gentle ray of sun breaking through a cold, barren field.

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through my side. I didn't know what it was at first, and it persisted, but the beautiful woman in front of me was enough of a distraction that I barely noticed. But the pain kept coming, sharper each time, until it became unbearable. Then, fluorescent lights flooded my vision, and reality came crashing back. I was in the auditorium. The shooting pain in my side? Nakyoung, pinching me, trying to wake me up.

"Ow! What the hell is wrong with you?" I whispered angrily, my head still groggy from the remnants of the dream.

"What do you mean, 'what's wrong with me'? You literally slept through the entire lecture!" Nakyoung scolded, her voice low but sharp.

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and looked around. The lights were on. The room was nearly empty, and the professor was packing up at the front.

"Wait, it's over?" I asked, dazed.

"Yes! And. You. Slept. Through. It!" She punctuated each word with another pinch to my side.

"Ow, okay, okay! Stop!" I stood up, rubbing the sore spot.

"Now come on," she said, the tone of the lecture–lingering in her voice. "It's almost noon. Let's go get lunch."

The walk from the auditorium was uneventful—Nakyoung and I fell into our usual rhythm of conversation. But as we walked, my mind kept circling back to the woman in my dream. Her dark eyes, like black holes pulling me in. The way they seemed to both drown me and let me breathe at the same time. Her star-like beauty marks lingered behind my eyelids, and I couldn't shake them.

Then my vision blurred. Everything started spinning. I ignored it at first, but it only got worse. Finally, I called out, "Hey, Naky." I rubbed the side of my head as we passed through the university gates. "I think I'm gonna skip lunch. I really need to crash."

Concern flashed across her face, and she pulled me aside. "Are you sure you're okay? It's not like you to skip a meal."

I huffed, trying to lighten the mood. "I'll be fine. I just really need sleep."

She studied me for a moment, then nodded reluctantly. "Alright. But text or call me if you need anything, or if something happens, okay?"

I nodded and pulled her into a quick, friendly hug. She hugged me back, and we said our goodbyes.

The walk back to my apartment was quiet, and I was grateful for it. People I knew gave polite nods or soft waves, and I returned them in kind. But the lack of sleep was catching up fast. My eyes were watery and sore, my steps sluggish, my breathing heavy. And then something strange happened.

As I struggled to lift my feet off the ground, a familiar figure stood out among the handful of people passing by. When I glanced over, I saw those eyes again—the woman from my dreams, standing right there on the sidewalk. I froze, rubbed my eyes, and when I looked again, she was gone. A jolt of panic shot through me, and suddenly I was wide awake. "Okay," I muttered to myself, picking up my pace. "I definitely need more sleep."

The rest of the walk passed in a blur. Every step was fueled by a mix of purpose and unease. Finally, the faded blue paint of my apartment complex came into view, and relief washed over me.

As soon as I opened the front door, I heard the faint sound of a drama playing in the living room. "Hey, you're home early," my roommate Giselle called out. "Did class end early or something?"

"No, just dead tired," I mumbled, kicking off my shoes.

She paused the TV and padded over to the doorway, her face scrunching with concern. "Whoa. I know school's been hectic, but not this hectic. Seriously, are you good, bro?"

I managed a weak nod and a small smile before heading to my room. When I opened the door, my bed welcomed me like an oasis in the desert. I collapsed onto it, letting the comfort of my pillow and sheets pull me under.

This time, the dream was different. Still hazy, but clearer than before. Tangible. Like I had some control over everything—except for her.

It was a sunny afternoon in a park. Birds sang, children laughed, and the sun's warmth hit just right. I was sitting alone on a bench under a big oak tree when she appeared. She wore a sundress paired with a cardigan, a purse hanging from her shoulder, and she was carrying two cups of 자몽에이드(Grapefruit Juice). She was sunshine personified.

She approached my bench and asked if she could join me. I agreed immediately. She set the drinks down between us, condensation pooling on the wood, and pulled out her phone. Watching her up close, I noticed that rare quality about her—the way she made life look easy. She smiled as she scrolled, until her screen lit up with a notification. Her face went blank, like someone had flipped a switch and plunged the room into darkness.

I decided to break the ice.

"So," I said, nodding at the drinks, "do you often drink two grapefruitades at the same time?"

She glanced at me, then at the cups, and let out a huffed laugh, a little embarrassed. "Oh, no. Turns out my date would rather block my number than drink these with me."

My stomach dropped. "Oh, shit. I'm sorry. If I'd known, I would've—"

She waved her hands, cutting me off. "No, no, it's fine. Really."

A beat of awkward silence passed. I thought that was it, but then—

"Do you want the other one?" She held out the cup, her finger leaving a faint smudge on the frosty plastic. When I hesitated, she tilted her head. "Come on. It's way too sweet for one person anyway."

I was caught off guard, but when I looked at her, she was already smiling—not the kind that lights up a room, but the kind that creases the corners of her eyes. The kind that says she knows something about the world, and it's not all bad.

"Thanks." Our fingers brushed as I took the cup, and for a second, the ice between us melted.

"Guess I'm your rebound date now," I said, immediately wanting to punch myself.

But she laughed. "I guess you are."

We laughed together, the sound mingling with the birdsong.

"I'm Younghyun, by the way." I reached out my hand.

She looked at it, then took it. "S—un!"

I frowned. "Sorry, I didn't catch that."

"It's S—un!" she repeated, but her voice came out warbled, distorted.

Then everything started to fizzle. The trees, the grass, the people—all dissolving. She remained, but a void was consuming the park, swallowing everything into darkness.

And then, like a bolt of lightning, I was awake.

I was back in my room, staring at the ceiling, the remnants of the dream already slipping away. I dragged a hand down my face, scrubbing away the clinging traces of sleep. Fumbling around on my messy sheets, I found my phone under my pillow and checked the time. I slept for twelve hours. Skipped lunch and dinner.

I decided to call Nakyoung, partly to make up for bailing on her earlier. I scrolled through my contacts and found her number. The phone rang for a while, but she didn't pick up. It was past midnight—she was probably asleep.

I got out of bed and decided to head to the convenience store down the street. Maybe some ramyeon and microwaved kimbap would hit the spot. As I padded through the apartment, I saw Giselle asleep on the couch, her phone still in her hand, looping the same short video over and over. I gently took the phone, turned it off, and draped a blanket over her before heading out.

The streets were quiet at this hour. The walk was peaceful, the cold night air a relief after being cooped up for so long.

The bright lights of the convenience store were already in sight, but something else caught my attention: steam rising from a small tteokbokki stand on the sidewalk. The scent triggered an immediate growl from my stomach. Fresh, piping hot tteokbokki sounded way better than microwaved food. I glanced at the store and noticed they also sold 마약김밥 and ice-cold grapefruitade. Perfect.

As I approached the stand, a sweet old lady greeted me with a warm smile. "Oh, young man! Good evening. What can I get for you?"

"Good evening, Halmeoni!" I said, matching her energy. "Can I have one tteokbokki and five kimbaps, please?"

She got right to work, scooping a generous portion of tteokbokki onto a plate and arranging the kimbaps neatly. "Enjoy!" she said, sliding the plate toward me.

"네, 잘 먹겠습니다.(Yes, I will eat well.)"

I was about to take my first bite when I heard footsteps approaching the stand, accompanied by a voice that sounded strangely familiar. "Halmeoni! One tteokbokki and three kimbaps, please!"

I turned to look, and my body froze.

It was her. The girl from my dreams.

My chopsticks slipped from my fingers and clattered onto the tray.

"Oh? Sohyun-ah!" the old lady said, her face lighting up. "It's so late! I thought you already had dinner?"

While they chatted, I sat there, stunned. Am I still asleep? No. I definitely woke up.

Sohyun's voice pulled me out of my daze as she pointed at my fallen chopsticks. "Hey, I think you dropped these."

I looked down, embarrassed, but before I could reach for them, Halmeoni handed me a fresh pair with a knowing smile.

I took a bite of my food, trying to compose myself. Sohyun sat down beside me and, to my surprise, tried to start a conversation.

"You're not a regular here, are you?" she asked.

My mouth full of tteokbokki, I could only manage a derpy, "Huh?"

She let out a breathy laugh and repeated herself.

I swallowed quickly. "No, actually. I didn't even know this place existed."

"Yeah, not many people do," she said, nodding. "It's either too late at night, or they just go for the convenience store food."

I nodded and kept eating, the silence between us a little awkward. But she broke it easily.

"I'm Sohyun, by the way." She extended her hand.

I stared at it for a second, then shook it. "Younghyun."

"So, what brings you here tonight, Younghyun?" she asked, chewing thoughtfully.

I gestured vaguely with my chopsticks. "This was one of the only places open this late. It was either this or pre-packaged food."

She hummed in understanding, popping a piece of kimbap into her mouth. We ate in comfortable silence for a moment, the only sounds were the gentle bubbling of the tteokbokki and the distant hum of a streetlight.

But I couldn't shake the feeling. The way she tilted her head when she chewed. The way her beauty marks caught the faint glow from the stand's hanging lamp. It was her. Exactly her.

Finally, curiosity burned through me. "This is going to sound insane," I blurted out, "but have we… met before?"

Sohyun glanced at me, one eyebrow raised. "I don't think so, no."

"No, I mean—" I hesitated, already feeling ridiculous. "I've seen you. In my dreams. Like, multiple times."

I expected her to laugh, or edge away, or maybe flag down Halmeoni for help. Instead, she went completely still. Her chopsticks hovered mid-air, a piece of tteokbokki dripping red sauce back onto her plate.

"What did you say?" she asked, her voice quiet.

"I know how it sounds," I said quickly, rubbing the back of my neck. "It's just—there was this park. A sunny afternoon. You were wearing a sundress and a cardigan, carrying two grapefruitades. You sat next to me on a bench because your date stood you up."

The color drained from her face, then rushed back in a deep blush, then she whispered. "On the bench. Under the oak tree."

My heart slammed against my ribs. "Yeah, how did you know that?"

"I thought it was just a dream, a really vivid one." she said, setting her chopsticks down. “You even made a joke about being my rebound date."

"I still cringe thinking about it," I admitted with a wince.

A shaky laugh escaped her. "No, It was funny. And then—" She paused, her brow furrowing. "Everything started to fade. Like static on a TV. And I couldn't tell you my name properly."

"It came out all warbled," I finished. We stared at each other, the weight of the realization settling between us like a living thing.

"This is…" Sohyun trailed off, shaking her head. "This isn't normal, right? Two people having the same dream?"

"It shouldn’t be," I admitted. "But I've been thinking about it and you all day. Your eyes, your smile, the way you looked at me like you knew something about the world that wasn't all bad. I couldn't shake it."

Her lips parted slightly, her dark eyes, those eyes, searching mine. "I couldn't either," she confessed quietly. "I woke up and felt like I'd lost something. Someone. And I didn't even know your name."

The night air felt charged, electric. Halmeoni busied herself with wiping down the counter, pretending very hard not to listen, though the occasional glance she threw our way suggested she was thoroughly invested in this late-night drama.

I took a breath. Then another. My heart was hammering so loud I was half-convinced she could hear it. I set my chopsticks down carefully, lining them up neatly on the edge of my plate, a pointless gesture, but it gave my hands something to do.

Sohyun watched me, her dark eyes unreadable but warm, that tiny smile still playing at the corner of her lips. Up close, under the warm glow of the stand's hanging lamp, I could see every detail I'd only glimpsed in my dreams: the way her hair fell softly against her cheeks, the faint shimmer of lip balm, the beauty mark on her left cheek that I'd wanted to reach out and touch since the moment I saw her.

Say something, you idiot.

"Sohyun," I started, then immediately forgot every word I'd ever known. My mouth felt dry. I grabbed my grapefruitade and took a long sip, the cold sweetness doing nothing to calm my nerves.

She tilted her head, amused. "Yes?"

"I know we literally just met," I began again, setting the drink down carefully so she wouldn't see how my hand was shaking. "Like, actually met, not dream-met. And I know this is probably the most insane thing that's ever happened to you—to either of us, really. Two strangers having the same dream? That's not something that happens in real life. That's something that happens in dramas, or in those webtoons my roommate is always reading where the characters are secretly soulmates or whatever."

I was rambling. I knew I was rambling. But I couldn't stop.

"And maybe this is just some weird coincidence. Maybe we both drank too much Grapefruit juice and had weird dreams and our brains just happened to make up the same person. That's possible, right? That's a thing that can happen?"

Sohyun's smile widened, but she stayed quiet, letting me dig my own grave.

"But what if it's not?" The words tumbled out faster now. "What if there's actually something here? Because I've been thinking about you all day and I didn't even know your name until five minutes ago. I walked home from campus looking for you. I literally thought I saw you on the street and I rubbed my eyes so hard I almost gave myself a headache. And when I woke up from that second dream, I felt—" I stopped, struggling to find the right word. "Empty. Like something was missing. Like you were missing."

The admission hung in the air between us. Sohyun's expression shifted, the playful amusement softening into something deeper, more vulnerable.

I swallowed hard. "So I'm just going to say this before I lose what's left of my nerve."

I turned on my stool to face her fully, my knee almost bumping hers under the narrow counter. The world around us, the convenience store, the empty street, Halmeoni pretending to rearrange her sauce bottles—all of it faded into background noise.

"Sohyun, would you want to go on a date with me? A real one." I gestured vaguely between us. "Not in a dream. Not in a park that might dissolve into static the second I try to look at you or whatever. But here. In the real world. Where I can actually talk to you and you can actually answer back."

A breathless laugh escaped her, and the sound made my chest ache in the best way.

"I know this is fast," I continued, lowering my hand. "I know we're basically strangers who accidentally shared a brainwave or whatever the hell just happened. But I also know that when I woke up from that first dream, I felt like I'd lost someone I'd known my whole life. And when I saw you standing here tonight, I felt like—" I pressed a hand to my chest, right over my heart. "Like something clicked into place. Like my body knew you before my brain caught up."

I looked down at my plate, suddenly embarrassed by my own honesty. "And I just yapped and you probably think I'm crazy."

For a long, agonizing moment, she didn't respond. I could feel her gaze on me, studying my face like she was searching for something. The silence stretched, filled only by the distant hum of the streetlight and the soft bubbling of the tteokbokki.

Then I felt her hand cover mine on the counter.

I looked up.

Her eyes,those eyes, dark and warm and full of that familiar mischief—were glistening. Not with tears, exactly, but with something close. Something tender.

"Younghyun," she said softly, and the way my name sounded in her voice made my heart stutter. "When I woke up from that dream this afternoon, I cried."

The confession hit me like a wave.

"I didn't understand why," she continued, her thumb tracing a slow circle on the back of my hand. "But I woke up, and my cheeks were wet, and I just lay there staring at the ceiling, feeling like someone had reached into my chest and taken something important."

She let out a shaky breath. "I tried to forget about it. I told myself it was just a dream, just my brain being weird. But every time I closed my eyes, I saw you. Sitting on that bench. Making that stupid joke about being my rebound date. Looking at me like I was—" She paused, her voice catching. "Like I was someone worth looking at."

My throat tightened.

"And then Halmeoni texted me," she said, a watery laugh escaping her. "She said she was staying late to clean the stand and asked if I wanted free dinner because she made too much food. I almost said no. I was tired, I had homework, it didn't make sense to walk all the way here at midnight. But something—" She pressed her free hand to her chest, mirroring my gesture from earlier. "Something told me to come."

She squeezed my hand. "And now you're here. Sitting next to me. Telling me you dreamed of me too. Telling me you felt empty without me." Her voice dropped to barely a whisper. "How is that possible, Younghyun? How is any of this possible?"

I shook my head slowly. "I don't know. But I don't think I care."

She laughed again, softer this time, and a single tear slipped down her cheek. Before I could think about it, my free hand lifted, and I caught it with my thumb, wiping it away gently. Her skin was warm, soft. She leaned slightly into my touch, just for a second, and the gesture felt more intimate than anything I'd ever experienced.

"Sohyun," I whispered. "Go on a date with me."

She turned her head, leaning towards the warmth of my palm before pulling back. The action was so impossibly tender, that I forgot how to breathe.

"Yes," she said, and the word was firm, certain, even as her eyes shimmered. "Yes, Younghyun. I'll go on a date with you."

"Yeah?" My voice cracked embarrassingly.

"Yeah." She smiled, that smile, the one that creased the corners of her eyes, the one that said she knew something about the world and it wasn't all bad. "But you're buying grapefruitade this time. The ones in the fancy cafes."

A laugh burst out of me, loud and unguarded, and she joined in, our laughter mingling in the cool night air like it belonged together. Like it had always belonged together.

From behind the counter, Halmeoni let out a satisfied "Aigoo," and I swear I saw her wipe her eye with the corner of her apron.

Sohyun and I looked at each other, her hands still on mine across the narrow counter, and I realized that for the first time in weeks I didn't feel tired. I didn't feel empty. I didn't feel like I was just barely surviving.

I felt awake.

"Saturday?" I asked. "There's this little café near Hongdae that does amazing egg tarts. And after, if you want, we could walk along the stream.”

“Oh my god, I love egg tarts!” She nodded quickly, still smiling. "Yes, Saturday sounds perfect."

"Great, you’re gonna enjoy the place then. But now that we have that, can I please get your number? The real one, I mean. Not the dream version where it's just a jumble of numbers that don't actually work." 

She laughed and pulled out her phone. We exchanged numbers, the simple act feeling monumental, and I saved her contact with a photo I took right there—her mid-laugh, head tilted back, beauty marks on full display.

She also took a photo of me while saving her contact on my phone. "This is going to be my contact photo for you."

"What am I going to be saved as?" I asked.

She glanced at her phone when it buzzed, then looked up at me with that mischievous glint in her eyes. "Dream Boy."

I groaned. "Seriously?"

"Seriously." She typed something, and my phone buzzed. I looked down.

"Dream Girl"

I stared at the screen, then at her, then back at the screen. She was watching me, clearly delighted by my reaction.

"See? Even you did it!" She teased.

"That's—" I started.

"That’s what, perfect?" She further teased.

“Yes. Yes it is perfect!” I retaliated.

Her cheeks flushed a pretty pink, and she ducked her head, hiding her smile behind her hand. The gesture was so shy, so different from the confident way she'd teased me moments before, that I felt my heart squeeze all over again.

Halmeoni chose that moment to reappear, sliding two small cups of complimentary kimbap toward us. "On the house," she announced, beaming. "For the happy couple."

"We're not a couple yet," Sohyun protested weakly.

"Yet," Halmeoni repeated, winking at me. "Young man, don't mess this up."

"Yes halmeoni," I said, and I meant it with my whole chest. "I won’t."

Sohyun looked at me, really looked at me, and in her eyes I saw the same thing I felt: wonder, hope, and the faintest trace of fear, the kind that comes with finding something precious and being terrified of losing it.

We ate our meals in comfortable silence, shoulders almost touching, the night stretching endlessly ahead of us. And when we finally said goodbye an hour later, after exchanging numbers, social media handles, birth dates, favorite colors, and a dozen other small details that made her feel more real than any dream ever could, she hugged me.

Not a friendly hug, not a polite hug. A real one. Her arms wrapped around my waist, her head tucked under my chin, and she fit there like she'd been made for it.

"Saturday," she murmured against my chest.

"Saturday," I promised, leaning my chin on the top of her head.

Walking home, I caught myself smiling like an idiot. My phone buzzed.

Dream Girl: Just so you know, if this turns out to be another dream and I wake up alone tomorrow, I'm going to find you in real life and yell at you.

Me: It's not a dream. I promise.

Dream Girl: How do you know?

I stopped walking, looking up at the stars scattered across the night sky. For the first time in weeks, I felt rested. I felt present. I felt like the version of myself I'd been before the sleepless nights and the endless doomscrolling and the quiet despair of a job hunt that went nowhere.

Me: Because in my dreams, I always wake up before the good part. And right now? This feels like just the beginning.

Her reply came instantly.

Dream Girl: ❤️

Dream Girl: Saturday can't come soon enough.

I pocketed my phone, still grinning, and walked the rest of the way home under a canopy of stars, already counting the hours until I'd see her again.

Guys line up at her to bring her gifts almost every week just to get her attention. But she seems disinterested with them. But not me, she picked me over every one, but not in the good kind. Ever since she came to the school and became my blockmate, she decided to make my life miserable. Everything she did was seemingly designed to torment me and only me. 

She would push me around literally every time she saw me at the hallways of the university, or trip me over when I walked to class. Then there's this one time where she randomly smacked my face while I was studying in my seat. She would also make me do her homeworks and projects and if I didn’t do it she would tell me that I would suffer the consequences of being disobedient towards her. But today as the term ends, all of that will come to a halt for the time being, I get to rest my aching body from the schoolworks and bullying I receive from Sohyun. 

I am currently seated in front of my computer, playing games that I hadn’t had a chance to touch ever since the term started, trying to catch up. Then my phone suddenly rang. It was Xinyu, a part of Sohyun’s circle who I became friends with when we got partnered up for a school project. She gave me an invite to go to her birthday party that also served as a term-ender party, and said ‘everyone will come so you should too’. Everyone meant everyone so it’s not far off that Sohyun will definitely attend which made me not wanna go, but on the other hand I didn’t wanna disappoint Xinyu since it is her birthday that she invited me on. So I swallowed my fears and got ready to go to the party.

After some time, I got ready and hopped in my car to head to the mall first and got Xinyu a gift that she once told me she liked in a passing conversation. She said that she had liked perfumes of a specific brand and she is trying to collect them, so I got to the boutique of the said brand and bought a bottle of a perfume that had a hefty price tag that came with it. I got it wrapped and finally headed my way towards the party. 

The venue was no joke, it was a villa that had a overlooking view of the beach and I’m guessing that Xinyu’s family owned it. I could see the strobing lights from where I’m currently situated. I went inside the gates of the villa, and found myself an area where I could park the car. I finally got out of the car and went towards the entrance and saw that there was a man who had a checklist of the names who were invited to the party. When I got to the entrance the man asked for my name but luckily enough Xinyu walked by and saw me.

“Y/n! Oh my god, I’m glad you could make it!” said Xinyu as she reached for my hand around the guard’s body. 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t miss this for anything!” as I held her hand back to signify that we know each other.

Xinyu then whispered something to the guard and the man let me in the house without checking my name on the list. She then hugged me and welcomed me to the party. While initiated with the hug I wished her a happy birthday and then gave her the gift I had prepared for her.

“Oh my god, Y/n! You shouldn’t have!” as Xinyu grabbed the gift. She then opened it in front of me and the gleam in her eyes as she saw what my present was told me that she liked the gift I gave her.

“Oh my, thank you so much Y/n!” She then initiated another hug that was quicker than the first one.

“I had just run out of this one, you saved me the inconvenience of going to the store!” she continued.

“Well, I’m glad you liked it and I’m that I could be of service!” I answered. 

She then excused herself and had to go and welcome other people to the party, I let her be and then she went away not without telling me to enjoy the party.

So I did, I explored the villa and met some of the people whom I haven’t had the chance to interact with when we’re in school. There’s this girl Giselle, who had very striking red hair that greatly compliments her beauty. She told me that she just transferred to the university due to her parents moving to the country for business, when I asked her from where she was from, she told me that she was from Japan, which struck me a surprise because I was originally from Japan as well, we then code switched to Japanese much to everyone listening to our conversation’s chagrin, and we easily became friends. 

After a lengthy conversation with Giselle about our lives, I excused myself to go to the kitchen and get myself a drink. While getting a drink and some snacks, a familiar voice came from behind me that made my shoulders tense up.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

The voice cut through the party chatter, instantly recognizable even before I turned around. Sohyun stood a few feet away, arms crossed, her expression unreadable in the dim lighting.

I took a steadying breath before answering. "Xinyu invited me," I said, keeping my voice even despite the way my pulse jumped.

Sohyun's eyebrows lifted slightly. "Did she now?" There was that familiar edge to her voice, though quieter than usual. "Guess she's feeling generous tonight."

My fingers tightened around my cup, but I forced myself to relax. "Yeah, guess so," I said with a shrug. I hoped it looked more casual than it felt. "Have a good time, Sohyun."

I turned to walk away before she could respond, weaving through the crowd toward where some classmates were talking. The music and laughter helped drown out the tension still coiled in my shoulders, and for a while, I almost forgot about the encounter.

But when I glanced back across the room later, I caught Sohyun watching me with that same inscrutable look. She quickly turned away when she noticed me looking, leaving me to wonder what was going through her head.

At first, I thought ignoring her would work - that if I didn't react, she'd eventually lose interest. But Sohyun had other plans. Like a shadow I couldn't shake, she inserted herself into every conversation, every group I tried to join. The worst part? She made it look effortless. With her natural charm and social grace, she'd take over the discussion within seconds, leaving me standing there like an awkward afterthought.

Then came the interruptions. The subtle digs. The way she'd casually drop "loser" into conversation like it was my actual name, flashing that razor-sharp smile as strangers chuckled with uncertainty. Each time, I'd feel my face grow hot, my words dying in my throat as I mumbled excuses and retreated to another corner of the party.

This cruel dance continued all night - her pursuing, me retreating - until something inside me snapped. There's a strange clarity that comes when you hit your breaking point. All the embarrassment, the frustration, the swallowed comebacks crystallized into one undeniable truth: tonight, Sohyun had gone too far.

It was when I was talking to our senior, Yooyeon noona. 

It was quite tame at first, it was just her interrupting our conversations with her being loud. She kept laughing brazenly near me and she kept calling for my attention repeatedly. Then it escalated to her being quite touchy towards me. She kept touching my face, squeezing my cheeks with a single hand, and she kept exploring my shoulder with her hands. She kept shaking me, completely interrupting Yooyeon noona and I’s conversation. 

So I excused myself to Yooyeon noona and grabbed Sohyun by her arms and went towards a quiet area deep inside the villa to confront her.

“What the hell is your problem?!” My voice ripped through the air, raw with anger.

Sohyun just kept giggling, that infuriating, mocking sound scraping against my nerves. “Oh, come on. Don’t be so dramatic.”

“You think this is funny?” My hands clenched at my sides. “I haven’t had a single real conversation since you started this bullshit. Do you get off on ruining things for me?”

She tilted her head, a smirk playing on her lips. “Why would anyone waste time talking to a loser like you?”

“And besides,” she added, flicking her hair over her shoulder, “it’s not like you’ve got anything interesting to say anyway.”

Something inside me snapped.

“You know why nobody actually likes you, Sohyun?” The words tore out of me, sharp and venomous. “Everyone tolerates you because of Xinyu. That’s it. If she dropped you tomorrow, you’d be nothing. Just some bitter, lonely girl nobody wants around.”

Her smirk faltered, but I wasn’t done.

“What, did your parents not love you enough? Is that why you’re like this? Desperate for attention, even if it’s negative?”

Her face changed—the arrogance crumbling into something hollow, wounded. But my anger was a wildfire now, unstoppable.

“Or maybe you were always second best. Maybe everything you do is just you screaming, ‘Look at me! Pick me!’—”

“Shut up.” Her voice was low, dangerous. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”

“Or what?” I stepped closer, my pulse roaring in my ears. “You’ll punch me again? Go ahead. It’s not like you know how to deal with anything except violence and mmm—”

Her hands shot out, gripping my collar pulling me towards her—and then her lips crashed into mine.

I tried to push her off of me, but her grip was too tight—her fingers dug into the collar of my shirt like she was afraid I’d vanish if she let go. At first, I resisted, my hands pressing against her waist in protest, but the desperation in her kiss was overwhelming. The way her lips moved against mine, trembling and insistent, made my resolve crumble. Before I knew it, I was kissing her back, the tension between us igniting into something feverish and uncontrollable. The kiss was already heating up, but it became even more intense when she suddenly shoved me against the hallway wall, her body pressing into mine as if trying to erase any space left between us.

Then I noticed it—the dampness on both of our faces. At first, I thought it was sweat from the heat of the moment, but when I pulled back slightly, I saw the tears streaking her cheeks. She was crying, her breath hitching between kisses, yet she refused to break contact, her lips still clinging to mine as if they were her only anchor. The salt of her tears mixed with the taste of her mouth, and my chest ached with the weight of whatever pain she couldn’t voice. Why was she crying? Why did this kiss feel like a plea? The hallway around us blurred, the only thing real being the warmth of her body and the quiet, shuddering sobs she couldn’t hold back.

She then let go of our lips but she kept crying. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/n… I’m so sorry.”

Her voice was barely a whisper, broken and small as she kept her head bowed. Tears darkened the fabric of my shirt where they fell. I froze for a moment—unsure how to respond—before instinct took over. Gently, I pulled her against me, one hand cradling the back of her head while the other pressed protectively against her shoulder blades. She shuddered, her apologies muffled against my chest, her fingers clutching fistfuls of my sleeves like I might vanish if she let go.

Time blurred. The party’s noise faded into a distant hum, leaving only the sound of her slowing breaths and the occasional hiccup of fading sobs. When she finally lifted her head, I turned away, my jaw tight—but her fingers, warm and trembling, brushed my cheek and guided my gaze back to hers.

“I mean it,” she said, her eyes red-rimmed but steady. “I’m sorry for everything. The bullying. The teasing. The way I humiliated you in front of everyone—” Her voice cracked. “—even the kiss. That wasn’t fair.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but she pressed a finger to my lips. “Please, let me finish?”

I nodded, and her hand slid back to cup my face, thumb tracing the curve of my cheekbone as if memorizing it.

“I didn’t know how to talk to you,” she admitted. “With others, I could fake it—laugh, flirt, play the part. But you? You were kind to me from the start, even when I didn’t deserve it. It terrified me.” A faint, self-deprecating smile flickered across her lips. “So I teased you. Pushed you away. Because if I could make you hate me, then I wouldn’t have to face how much I—” She swallowed. “—how much I liked you. And the more I felt it, the worse I acted.”

My breath caught. She liked me? The confession hit like a punch to the ribs, leaving me lightheaded.

“But why not just talk to me?” I asked, voice rougher than I intended. “Why push me away if you wanted me close?”

Her thumb stilled. “Because you were right earlier,” she whispered. “About… all of it. My family. The attention. The way I—” She exhaled sharply, as if the words burned. “I didn’t know how to ask for what I needed. So I took it instead.”

Her words hung between us, raw and vulnerable. I couldn’t meet her gaze—not when my own guilt churned inside me like a living thing.

She’d liked me all along.

Sohyun, perceptive as ever, gently squeezed my hand. “Hey,” she murmured, her thumb brushing over my knuckles. “Don’t look like that. I’m the one who should be apologizing. I earned every bit of your anger tonight.” Her smile was small but genuine, the kind that crinkled the corners of her eyes.

A quiet settled over us, thick but not uncomfortable. The distant pulse of music and laughter from the party felt worlds away. I exhaled slowly, my breath ruffling her bangs.

“Sohyun… this is a lot to process,” I admitted. “It’s not every day your—” I bit back tormentor just in time, “—the person who’s been on your case for months confesses they like you. But I will give you an answer. Just… give me some time?”

Her entire face lit up—eyes sparkling, lips parting in disbelief. The anxious tension in her shoulders melted away, leaving behind a hopeful, almost giddy energy I’d never seen from her before. In that moment, with her guard down and her heart in her eyes, I finally saw her. Really saw her.

“Yes! God, yes—take all the time you need!” She released me abruptly, as if remembering herself, and took two steps back. The sudden space between us felt charged, electric. Then, inexplicably, we both laughed—a soft, disbelieving sound that dissolved the last of the night’s bitterness.

“We should probably get back before Xinyu looks for us,” I said, nodding toward the crowded living room.

Sohyun grinned—a full, unrestrained smile that transformed her face—and fell into step beside me. But just before we reached the others, she caught my wrist and spun me toward her.

“Y/n,” she said, voice dropping to a whisper. “Can I kiss you again?”

My eyebrows shot up. This girl…

But the teasing retort died on my tongue when I saw her expression—hopeful but uncertain, as if bracing for rejection. So instead, I huffed a laugh and leaned in.

Her answering smile could’ve powered the entire city. Then her hands were in my hair, pulling me down, and her lips met mine—softer this time, sweeter, but no less electric. When we parted, she lingered close enough that our noses brushed.

“For luck,” she whispered, then darted off toward her friends, leaving me standing there, heart pounding, as the party’s noise rushed back in.

It has been a while since the party and Sohyun’s confession and it has been eating at my mind. I had never expected for Sohyun to actually like me and her previous actions towards me didn’t help at all, and now I can’t get her off my mind, the way her lips felt on mine, the softness she hasn’t shown me from the beginning, now lingers on my face and my skin. It’s like she is still holding me and being vulnerable again and I can’t do anything about it. 

Now, the break is over and we’re back in school. Everyone who I met at the party became somewhat friendly and shared greetings when I made my way to the room assigned to me. When I got into the room, I was surprised to see Xinyu as a classmate this term, so I sat next to her and we talked about the vacation and the party. She then said something that caught me off guard. “So, I heard from the grapevine after the party that something happened between you and Sohyun. Mind expanding my knowledge about it?” My shoulders tensed, and when I looked at her, her eyes were showing curiosity, so I carefully asked questions as to what she knew.

“What have you heard about?” I carefully asked Xinyu. 

“Well, someone told me that Sohyun kept pestering you and then you walked off somewhere, taking her with you. That’s all I know.” Xinyu replied.

I took a deep breath and contemplated if I should tell her everything that happened after the confrontation, but after some thinking and since we were still the only people in the room. I decided to tell her some things not all but from what I think would satisfy her.. From everything that I told Sohyun and the confession that she had liked me for quite a while, and the kiss that happened between us. 

Xinyu started to squeal and hit my arms because of what she had just heard. She kept laughing and squealing and I can’t help but feel embarrassed. But then the door suddenly opened and a familiar voice called out to Xinyu. A voice I became quite fond of, Sohyun, who had walked in on the door.

“Hey guys! Oh hi Xinyu!” Sohyun voiced out and it seemed like she hadn't recognized me yet because I was facing Xinyu. But when I turned around, her shoulder tensed up and her face turned red as soon as she saw me. 

“H-hi Y/n.” greeted Sohyun.

A big smile was on my face as soon as I saw her. Not moments later, Xinyu decided to tease the both of us 

“Hey Sohyun! How’s your break? I heard it was quite eventful.” her smile sinister, while wiggling her eyebrows towards the both of us.

Sohyun turned even redder than she already is and it seemed like she had caught on quite quickly. She rushed towards me and she hit my arms but with less force than she used to do.

“YOU. TOLD. HER. WHAT. HAP—PENED?!!” her hits matching every syllable that came out of her. I laughed at her antics but caught her arms and held onto it. “Well, I figured that you’re her friend and it happened in her house, I thought she should know.” I told Sohyun while giving her a smile. 

She put her bag on the back of the chair in front of her and sat down on the vacant seat next to me, pouting while crossing her arms, acting like she hated the both of us. Nothing much happened after that, it was just Xinyu’s continuous teasing until the class filled up with other students and the professor started her lecture. During the lecture, while I was taking notes, a hand suddenly reached for my free hand, I looked into it and it was Sohyun, sneakily trying and failing to hold my hand, so I instead reached for hers and held it discreetly. Hiding it for the meantime. I thought we were sneaky but when I was trying to fix my hair, I saw Xinyu, grinning from ear to ear, teasing us, but Sohyun and I just let it happen and continued on listening to our professor while our hands joined.

After the school day, Sohyun asked me to join her to walk to our dorms. I agreed and we both said goodbye to Xinyu as her chaperone was already waiting for her outside. While on the way to the dorms, I had thought about ‘updating’ our ‘relationship status’, but I guess that the thought was also occupying Sohyun’s mind because she had beat me to opening up the topic.

“You know Y/n, it’s been a while since we last had a conversation with just the two of us. The last one was at–”

“Xinyu’s party!”

“--Xinyu’s party.”

We both looked at each other and laughed at what just happened.

“So I was wondering–” she continued.

“--if you already had your answer?” 

Silence had filled both of us as we continued to walk towards our dorms. She walked behind me the entire time, maybe in anticipation of my answer. I already had an answer, and I do like her as well. After she had been vulnerable with me, I immediately understood where the bullying came from. She hadn’t learned to express herself, and what she did was her way of communicating that she wanted people’s attention. Her past actions, though hurtful, now made sense—they were cries for connection, masked in defiance and aggression. It was as if a puzzle piece had clicked into place, revealing a picture of loneliness I hadn’t seen before.

When we finally got to the dorms, I walked her to her room, the quiet between us heavy with unspoken words. The moment I looked towards her, I could see that her eyes were filled with curiosity, anxiety, and love—emotions so raw and honest that they solidified the answer I had for her. My chest tightened with a mix of tenderness and resolve. I knew then that I wanted to be someone who could help her find better ways to be seen, to reassure her that she didn’t have to push people away to keep them close. The hallway light flickered above us, casting fleeting shadows, but the certainty in my heart remained steady.

“S-Sohyun?”

The name left my lips like a fragile breath, barely audible over the quiet hum of the evening. She turned, her dark eyes meeting mine—patient, curious, but with a flicker of something deeper. Anticipation? Fear?

“Hmm?”

I swallowed hard. The words had been circling my mind for days, clawing at my ribs, demanding release. Now, standing before her, they threatened to choke me.

“I… I have an answer for you.” My voice was steadier than I expected. “And it’s been living inside me for a while now.”

A beat of silence. The air between us grew heavy.

“At first,” I continued, watching her fingers twitch at her sides, “all I could think about was the past. The things you did. The hurt.”

Her breath hitched. The light in her eyes dimmed, like a candle flickering against the wind. She looked down, bracing herself.

“But then I realized something.” I stepped closer, my pulse roaring in my ears. “Maybe I don’t have to just remember the pain. Maybe… I can help you rewrite it.”

Her head snapped up. “W-What?”

“We can figure this out. Together.”

For a heartbeat, she didn’t move. Then—

A gasp. A tremble. Her lips parted, but no sound came out. Instead, tears welled, spilling over in glistening streaks.

“You—you mean—?” Her voice was a shattered whisper.

I smiled, soft but sure. “Yeah. I like you too, Sohyun.”

A sob broke free. She crumpled forward, her forehead pressing against my chest as her body shook. Instinctively, my arms wrapped around her, holding her together as she fell apart. Her tears burned through my shirt, searing into my skin. And then—I felt it. The weight of her regret, her relief, her hope. It bled into me, and suddenly, my own vision blurred.

When she finally pulled back, her face was flushed, her lashes wet. But she was smiling. A real, trembling, radiant smile.

Then—

Her hands gripped my collar. She yanked me down.

Our lips crashed together, fierce and desperate. I froze—just for a second—before melting into her, kissing her back with all the words I couldn’t say.

When we broke apart, she was panting, her forehead resting against mine. “Thank you,” she whispered, voice raw. “I swear—I’ll be better. For you.”

The conviction in her words sent a shiver down my spine.

I chuckled, brushing a stray tear from her cheek. “I know.”

She sniffled, then abruptly smacked my chest. “You—you made me cry, you idiot.”

I laughed, but before I could retort, she was dragging me toward her dorm, her grip ironclad.

“Wait, Sohyun—?”

She spun, her eyes blazing with playful defiance. “Did you really think I’d let you leave after that?” A smirk curled her lips. “Get in here, pretty boy.”

The door slammed behind us.

And just like that—the past was behind us. The future? Uncertain.

But her hand in mine?

A child's rhyme floated up from the courtyard below, sung by a scullery maid's son chasing a hoop:

"First son rides to war so bold,

Second son counts coins of gold,

Third son tends the temple shrine...

But the spare heir whines for wine!"

Younghyun's mouth twisted. He'd been the spare,the scholarly second son permitted to study music and botany while Jeonghan shouldered the burdens of rule. His brother had laughed off the rhyme, ruffling Younghyun's hair. "Better wine than war, little brother." Now the words clung to him like the funeral incense permeating his robes.

Somewhere in the palace, Minister Kwon would be discovering the unsigned trade agreements, the neglected border reports, the half-finished letter to the southern lords that Younghyun had abandoned three days ago when Jeonghan's breathing turned ragged. The ministers had humored his grief, but patience would fray like old silk. A king who couldn't rule was worse than a dead one.

The crown slipped as he tilted his head back. He caught it before it fell, the emeralds glinting like accusatory eyes.

Autumn's first frost painted the palace gardens in crystalline lace when Captain Jae of the royal guard intercepted the damning correspondence.

Younghyun knew something was amiss when the captain entered without knocking, his usually immaculate uniform streaked with mud from hard riding. Jae's knuckles were split,recently, by the rawness of the skin. The scroll he presented bore no official seal,just a plain wax imprint of a fox's paw.

"Found in a courier's saddlebag near the eastern pass," Jae murmured. "The man resisted interrogation."

A drop of blood stained the parchment's edge. Younghyun unrolled it with deliberate calm, his eyes skimming past the flowery greetings to the lethal heart of the message:

"...the vintage from Blue Mountain vineyard has been selected for its particular... properties. Our friend at the festival kitchens confirms the king's cup will be poured from this cask alone. Given His Majesty's predictable habits, the seventh toast should provide optimal..."

He looked up. "Lady Park Sohyun's hand?"

Jae nodded. "Her personal cipher, according to our cryptographers."

Younghyun rolled the scroll slowly, the parchment crackling in the silent study. He'd met Lady Park exactly twice,once at his coronation, where she'd offered condolences for his brother with unsettling intensity, and again at last year's harvest festival, when her commentary on grain distribution policies had left his treasury ministers stammering.

The daughter of the late Duke Park governed her family's lands with terrifying efficiency, turning their failing estates into the most prosperous in the eastern provinces. Rumor claimed she could calculate a harvest's yield by running her fingers through the soil and recite every tax code amendment for the past century.

And now, apparently, she'd grown tired of waiting for Haneul's incompetent king to fix the kingdom.

"Shall I order her arrest?" Jae asked.

Younghyun tapped the scroll against his palm. "How many men would die storming Daehan Keep?"

"With her defenses? At least two hundred."

"And if we succeed?"

"The eastern lords would revolt. Lady Park's reforms have made her popular with the commonfolk."

Younghyun stared at the fox imprint, imagining its crafty namesake watching from the shadows. A slow smile spread across his face.

"Send an invitation," he said. "Dinner. Just the two of us."

Sohyun arrived at the palace expecting shackles or a headsman's axe.

Instead, she found the king's private dining chamber lit by beeswax candles, the long table set for two with delicate porcelain from the royal kilns. No guards lined the walls. No tasters hovered near the dishes of braised duck and ginger-infused greens.

King Younghyun lounged at the head of the table, pouring wine with the ease of a man hosting a casual supper rather than confronting his would-be murderer. His casual posture couldn't disguise the warrior's leanness beneath his indigo robes,a remnant of the swordsmanship training all royal children endured, though rumor claimed he'd abandoned blades for books years ago.

"You read my letter," she said by way of greeting.

He glanced up, firelight catching the amber in his eyes. "Your analysis of my security lapses was particularly enlightening."

Sohyun's fingers brushed the dagger strapped to her thigh beneath her emerald hanbok. Every instinct screamed trap, yet the king made no move to summon guards.

"Why am I not in chains?"

"Because you're right." He pushed a wine cup toward her. "The north is starving. The treasury is empty. And I..." He gestured vaguely at the mountain of scrolls piled haphazardly in a corner. "I'd rather be cataloging medicinal herbs than hearing petitions."

She studied him,the ink-stained fingers, the faint shadows beneath his eyes, the sharp intelligence lurking beneath his lazy drawl. Not the fool the court believed.

"What do you want?"

His lips quirked. "Marry me."

Her wine cup slipped, shattering against the floorboards. Crimson pooled like blood between them.

Younghyun continued as if discussing the weather, "You want the throne. I don't. You're competent. I'm... not. Kill me, and you'll spend years fighting succession wars. Marry me, and the power is yours without the mess."

Silence stretched. Sohyun's pulse roared in her ears. A trick? Yet the offer solved every problem,legitimacy, resources, the noble factions that would resist a usurper.

"And you?" she asked slowly. "What do you gain?"

He grinned. "An end to paperwork. And the pleasure of watching Minister Kwon's face when he realizes you're in charge."

A startled laugh escaped her. The king's eyes crinkled in response, warm as sunlight through honey. Dangerous, that charm.

"I'll need control of the treasury within a week," she said.

"Done."

"Dismissal rights over corrupt officials."

"Naturally."

She tilted her head. "And your bed?"

His smile didn't waver, but his fingers tightened slightly around his cup. "That," he said softly, "is entirely your choice."

Heat prickled her neck. She'd meant it as a test of power, but his response,respect wrapped in quiet invitation,unsettled her more than threats would have.

"We'll have a contract," she said brusquely.

"Of course." He raised his cup. "To our partnership?"

After a beat, she took the proffered replacement glass. "To Haneul."

Their glasses clinked, sealing the fate of a kingdom.

The royal tailors had nearly mutinied over Sohyun's wedding robes.

"Tradition demands white for royal brides!" Head Seamstress Noh protested, her knuckles whitening around her measuring tape. The other seamstresses huddled behind her like a flock of nervous sparrows. "White for purity, for the maiden's transition into,"

"I'm not a blushing maiden," Sohyun interrupted, running a finger along the crimson silk's hem, where golden phoenixes smoldered against the fabric. "I'm a duchess entering a political alliance. Crimson is the color of my house. Let the court gossip."

Behind her, Younghyun muffled a laugh into his tea. He'd been banished from the fitting chambers twice already,once for suggesting the robes needed "more dragons, fewer birds," and again for asking if the headdress could be "less heavy, more stab-able."

Now, as temple bells rang across the capital on their wedding morning, Sohyun stood before a gilded mirror while attendants fussed with her hair ornaments. The crimson robes transformed her into something mythic,her skin luminous as porcelain, the phoenixes along the sleeves shimmering as if ready to take flight.

A knock. The attendants scurried to the door, returning with a lacquered box inlaid with mother-of-pearl foxes.

"From His Majesty," the lead maid whispered.

Inside lay a single hairpin,white jade carved into a fox curled around a pomegranate, its eyes twin rubies. The note read:

"For the cleverest woman in Haneul. Try not to stab me with this one."

Sohyun pressed her lips together. Clever, not beautiful. A calculated choice. She slid the pin into her braided crown, its weight a silent promise.

Midnight found them alone in the royal chambers at last. Sohyun dismissed the attendants with a flick of her wrist, then turned to find Younghyun already shrugging off his heavy outer robe like a man unshackled from ceremonial armor.

"Well," he said, tossing the embroidered monstrosity onto a divan, "that was,"

She pinned him against the bedpost, her new hairpin pressed to his throat. The jade fox's ruby eyes glinted in the candlelight.

"One condition you missed during negotiations," she said softly. "If this marriage is to be real in any sense, it will be because I choose it. Not duty. Not politics. Me."

To his credit, he didn't flinch. His Adam's apple moved against the jade point as he swallowed. "Understood."

For a long moment, she searched his face,the faint scar along his jaw (a childhood mishap with a training sword, he'd once claimed), the fan of dark lashes, the lips that had smiled through a day of deception. The same lips that had whispered "Trust me" during their private vows, fingers brushing hers beneath their linked sleeves.

Then she sheathed the pin and stepped back.

"Your Majesty may sleep on the divan tonight."

His exhale was almost a laugh. "As my queen commands."

As she turned away, she missed the way his gaze lingered on the space where her pulse fluttered at her throat,just as unsteady as his.

The ministers' murmurs died when Sohyun took the seat to Younghyun's right,the place traditionally reserved for the crown prince.

"Her Majesty will be handling treasury matters henceforth," Younghyun announced, already slouching as if bored.

Minister Kwon's teacup clattered against its saucer. "The royal consort has no authority to,"

"I do now." Sohyun unrolled a scroll with a snap. "Starting with these twelve tax collectors in the eastern provinces, who last year reported harvest yields twenty percent below my own stewards' records." She paused. "Odd, given the drought they cited coincided with my duchy's most abundant rainfall in decades."

Younghyun hid a smile behind his hand as she dismantled Kwon's arguments like a scribe unraveling a forged contract. By noon, three officials had resigned. By week's end, the treasury's secret ledgers lay open on her desk, revealing a web of embezzlement stretching back to the previous reign.

That evening, she massaged her aching temples. "You might have warned me about Minister Cho's gambling debts."

Younghyun looked up from his lute, grinning. "Where's the fun in that?"

She threw an inkbrush at him. He caught it effortlessly, then plucked a dissonant chord. "Next, you'll discover Lord Han's secret family in the,"

",silk district," she finished. "I know."

His eyebrows rose. "I'm beginning to think you married me for my charm."

"I married you," she said dryly, "because you're the only man in Haneul who wouldn't flinch when I stab the table during meetings."

(And because, though she'd never admit it, his laughter made the palace feel less like a gilded cage.)

At sixteen, Sohyun stood over Lord Ryu's twitching body, her hands steady but her breath uneven. The Widow's Kiss petals she'd steeped in his wine now stained his lips violet,a cruel irony for a man who'd once bragged about kissing widows "back to happiness."

Justice, she told herself. He'd taken her farmers, chained them like animals to dig for ore in his mines. Yet as his eyes glazed over, she remembered the way he'd smiled at her during her father's funeral,how he'd called her "delicate" while pressing a too-familiar hand to her waist.

Her maidservant, Soojin, appeared soundlessly beside her. "The guards are paid off. They'll say he choked."

Sohyun pocketed his seal ring, still warm from his finger. "Next time," she whispered, "I'll make it hurt."

Soojin's smile was a blade in the dark. "Oh, my lady. You will."

(The first kill is always the gentlest.)

The evening air hung thick with the scent of magnolias and deceit.

Sohyun hesitated for three measured heartbeats,the space between a lie and a confession,before adding the crushed petals to Younghyun's evening tea. Widow's Kiss, the same poison she'd used on Lord Ryu a lifetime ago. A test. Always a test with them.

The candlelight caught the faint shimmer of powder as it dissolved, turning the amber liquid a hair's breadth darker. Across the low table, Younghyun pretended not to notice, his attention seemingly fixed on the game board between them. A half-played match of janggi, his king piece already cornered by her cannons.

"Your move," he murmured, spinning a discarded horse piece between his fingers.

She watched his throat move as he swallowed a yawn. The firelight gilded the scar on his jaw,the one he'd earned at fifteen, when (according to his brother) he'd taken a practice sword to the face to protect a stable boy from noble bullies. A story she still wasn't sure she believed.

When he reached for the teacup, her body moved before her mind could rationalize. A flash of crimson sleeves, the sharp crack of porcelain meeting marble. The liquid seeped into the floorboards like liquid shadow, curling around the shards in inky tendrils.

"A fly fell in," she said.

Silence.

Then,a slow blink. The barest tightening of his knuckles against his knees. When he lifted his gaze, it was with the terrible clarity of a man who'd spent a lifetime playing the fool while seeing everything.

"How careless of me," he said lightly, and reached for the pot.

Her fingers twitched toward the hairpin in her sash as he poured a fresh cup,from the same poisoned pot,and slid it toward her. The steam curled between them like a challenge.

Without breaking eye contact, she raised it to her lips and drank. The tea was still scalding; it burned all the way down, a searing counterpoint to the ice in her veins.

Younghyun's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Shall we finish the game?"

She noted three things as he reset the board:

The tremor in his left hand,minute, but there.

The way his sleeve brushed the damp spot on the floor, as if to wipe away evidence.

That he'd positioned his king piece directly in her cannon's line of fire.

Checkmate, she thought grimly, and moved her chariot instead.

Younghyun smeared dirt across his cheekbones with deliberate care, the coarse grit catching in the stubble he'd let grow for three days. In the warped mirror of his dressing chamber, the reflection staring back was a stranger,a traveling minstrel with sun-weathered skin and fingers stained by lute strings rather than royal seals.

"You're mad," Captain Jae muttered, handing him a patched durumagi robe. "They'll recognize your voice the moment you sing."

"Not if I sing in the eastern dialect," Younghyun said, tying back his hair with a frayed ribbon. "And they won't expect a king to know this." He pulled a fox-shaped pendant from his sleeve,Lady Sohyun's personal cipher, stolen from her jewelry box that morning. "Rebels love a symbol."

Jae's jaw tightened. "Her Majesty will have my head if,"

"Then don't let her find out." Younghyun slung the geomungo across his back, its weight familiar as an old friend. "Tell her I've gone to pray at the mountain shrine. It's not even a lie."

The rebel camp stank of roasted pork and unwashed men. Younghyun shuffled past the sentries with a drunkard's gait, humming The Ballad of the Blue Fox,a drinking song banned in the capital for its seditious lyrics.

"Oy, bard!" A beefy rebel blocked his path, ale sloshing over his tankard. "Play us something to piss off the royals!"

Younghyun ducked his head in exaggerated fear. "N-not here, honored sir. The king's spies,"

"Fuck the king!" The rebel slammed his tankard on a nearby barrel, drawing cheers. "Play, or I'll feed your fancy instrument to the campfire!"

With trembling hands, Younghyun plucked the opening notes of The Fox's Wedding,a folk tune from Sohyun's homeland, one he'd learned from Jihoon all those years ago. His voice, when he sang, was deliberately rough, the eastern vowels flattened like a peasant's:

"The fox takes the crown at midnight hour,

Her teeth sharp, her claws flecked with gold..."

The rebels roared approval, banging their cups in rhythm. Younghyun let his gaze wander,counting weapons, noting the gaunt faces of conscripted farmers, marking the clean-shaven officers who lingered at the edges. Lord Shin's mercenaries, he thought. Not idealists. Hired steel.

A jug of soju thrust into his hands. "Drink, bard! You sing like a man who knows which side his bread is buttered!"

Younghyun gulped it obediently, letting the liquor drip down his chin. "A-all I know is songs, sir."

"Then you'll love this one!" The rebel leaned in, his breath reeking of garlic. "Tomorrow, we march on the capital. That bastard king won't know what hit him."

By midnight, the camp was a sea of slumped bodies and snoring drunks. Younghyun crept toward the command tent, his steps weaving convincingly. Through the canvas, he caught Lord Shin's nasal whine:

",the bastard's head on a pike before the next moon!"

"And the queen?" A new voice,smooth, educated. Minister Kwon's man.

"Alive," Shin sneered. "Long enough to watch us parade her through the streets in chains. Let the people see what happens to upstart bitches who,"

Younghyun's fingers twitched toward the dagger in his sleeve.

Then,footsteps. He dropped into a drunken sprawl as a sentry rounded the tent.

"You! What are you,"

"Pissin'," Younghyun slurred, fumbling with his belt. The sentry cursed and kicked him toward the latrines.

He'd almost reached the tree line when the geomungo's strap snapped. The instrument hit the ground with a resonant twang.

"Hey! That's no drunkard's grip!"

Torches flared. Younghyun ran.

An arrow grazed his shoulder as he vaulted a cookfire. Another thudded into a tree ahead–Poisoned? He couldn't risk checking. The woods swallowed him, branches whipping at his face. Behind, the camp erupted into chaos.

Idiot. Should've brought Jae.

Then, hoofbeats. Dozens.

Sohyun's cavalry crested the hill like a silver tide, her banner snapping in the wind. At their head, the queen herself rode in full battle regalia, her sword already drawn.

"Younghyun!" Her voice could have frozen hell.

He stepped into the moonlight, hands raised. "Darling! Fancy meeting you,"

She seized his collar, hauling him onto her saddle. Up close, her eyes were wildfire. "You have three seconds to explain why I shouldn't throw you back to them."

"Shin's hired mercenaries from the south," he gasped. "Kwon's funding them. They planned to,"

"Chain me and parade me through the streets, yes, I heard!" She spurred her horse. "Hold on, you reckless imbecile."

As they galloped toward safety, Younghyun dared to wrap his arms around her waist. Beneath the armor, her heart hammered as fast as his.

Back at camp, Sohyun dismissed her guards with a glare that promised retribution. Alone in her tent, she rounded on him.

"Strip."

"Usually I prefer dinner first,"

"Now."

He obeyed. She inspected the arrow graze with clinical precision, then dabbed it with a stinging tincture. "Lucky. Not poisoned." Her fingers lingered on his bare shoulder. "You knew I'd come."

"I counted on it." He caught her wrist. "Rebels fear you. Now they've seen you ride through fire to claim what's yours. That's the story that'll spread."

Her breath hitched. For a heartbeat, he thought she might kiss him. Instead, she shoved a clean tunic into his chest.

"Next time," she said, "bring a real weapon."

Younghyun grinned at the fox-shaped dagger she'd slipped into the folded fabric. "Yes, my queen."

The royal chambers smelled of cedar and crushed herbs, the aftermath of Sohyun's earlier tantrum. A shattered inkwell bled black across the oak desk, its remnants glittering among scrolls detailing Lord Shin's rebellion. Younghyun leaned against the window ledge, idly plucking at his lute strings while Sohyun paced like a caged tiger, her boots leaving imprints in the silk carpet.

"You idiot," she hissed for the third time, her voice scalding. "Riding into a rebel camp with nothing but a geomungo, were you trying to get yourself killed?"

A dissonant chord twanged as Younghyun shrugged. "Worked, didn't it? Shin's men are drinking with our guards as we speak."

"Because I rescued you!"

"Ah, but you see,--" He set the lute aside with infuriating calm. "-that was the plan. Rebels trust a minstrel. They definitely trust a minstrel whose queen comes charging in to 'save' him. Now they think you're sentimental." His grin was all teeth. "They'll underestimate you tomorrow."

Sohyun's nails bit into her palms. Three days ago, she'd intercepted reports of Lord Shin's rebellion,two thousand men marching under banners that read "Avenge the True Prince." Younghyun had vanished at dawn without a word, leaving only a scrap of sheet music on his pillow.

And then,then,she'd ridden through the night with a hundred cavalrymen, only to find him arm-wrestling the rebel leader, his sleeves rolled up to reveal the scarred forearms of a scholar who'd never stopped training with blades.

"You used yourself as bait," she accused.

"I used us," he corrected. "The reckless king and his jealous queen. A story they'll tell in taverns for years."

The fire popped. Sohyun became acutely aware of the sweat-damp linen clinging to her back, the way her braid had come half-undone during the frantic ride. She hated him. Hated how his eyes tracked the pulse in her throat like he could hear her heartbeat.

She seized the front of his robe. "Never. Do that. Again."

For the first time that night, his mask slipped. His hand closed over hers, warm and rough with calluses. "You were worried," he murmured, wonder in his voice.

Something inside her cracked.

She kissed him.

It was nothing like their careful political gestures at banquets, this was teeth and desperation, her fingers twisting in his hair as she backed him against the wall. His mouth tasted of stolen wine and the cold night air, his heartbeat frantic under her palm.

When they broke apart, his lips were red, his breathing uneven. "Was that another test?" he asked hoarsely.

"Shut up," she said, and dragged him to bed.

He barely had time to breathe before she shoved him down onto the mattress. Her skirts rustled as she climbed over him, a glint in her eyes that sent heat straight to his spine.

“Lie back,” she ordered softly, and he did.

Her fingers made quick work of his clothes, tugging the belt open, dragging his trousers down, exposing skin inch by inch like she was unwrapping something hers. She didn’t move slowly; there was no need to draw this out. Her hunger was sharp, raw, just barely contained beneath her calm exterior.

He reached for her, but she caught his wrists and pinned them to the bed.

“No,” she said. “You’ll wait.”

She shifted, straddling his hips, the heat between her thighs grazing his cock, but not giving him enough. Not yet. Her mouth was a trail of fire down his chest, lips brushing his nipple, her nails scoring faint lines down his sides just to watch him squirm.

He hissed through his teeth. “Sohyun—”

“I said wait,” she whispered, and then slid down his body.

She took him into her mouth, slow and devastating, her tongue flicking the underside as her hand gripped the base. Younghyun cursed, low and broken. He was already hard, already aching, but the sight of her like this—kneeling between his legs, eyes locked on his face as she sucked him down, nearly undid him.

Her lips were slick, relentless, and she moaned around him when he twitched against her throat. His hands gripped the sheets, desperate not to touch her, not to come too soon.

“You’re shaking,” she murmured, pulling off with a sinful smile. “Are you close already?”

“Fuck,” he gasped. “You’re—driving me mad.”

“Good,” she said, climbing back onto him.

She straddled him again, reaching down to guide him into her. No hesitation, just a sharp thrust of her hips as she sank down, inch by slow inch. The heat of her made him curse again, and her head tilted back in pleasure, lips parting around a breathless moan.

When she was seated fully, she held still, gripping his chest, forcing him to feel every inch of her wrapped tight around him.

“Look at you,” she whispered, rolling her hips. “So pretty like this. So fucking desperate.”

He groaned, helpless beneath her as she began to ride him in earnest. She set the pace—hard and fast, then slow and grinding, teasing him just when he was about to lose control. His hands finally found her hips, gripping hard as she bounced on his cock, wet and loud and shameless.

Each time she drove herself down onto him, she moaned like she needed it—like she wanted to ruin them both. And she was. Her breasts bounced with every thrust, her nails leaving marks on his chest, her slick dripping down his shaft, soaking his thighs.

“You feel that?” she gasped. “You’re so deep—I can’t think—”

“Don’t stop,” he growled, thrusting up into her now, meeting her rhythm with frantic need. “Please, don’t stop—”

Their bodies slapped together, skin slick with sweat, the room echoing with their breathing, their curses, the wet sound of her taking him again and again. She clenched around him and he felt himself unraveling.

“I’m close,” he warned, voice rough.

“Then come,” she said, dragging her nails down his chest. “Come inside me.”

That was it. He surged up with a broken cry, thrusting deep as he spilled into her. She came seconds after, grinding against him as she shattered; eyes squeezed shut, mouth parted, trembling above him.

They collapsed together, panting, slick with sweat and sex, limbs tangled.

Moonlight pooled on the rumpled sheets, gilding the tremble in Sohyun’s hands as she reached down and traced the scar along Younghyun’s ribs, a pale crescent beneath his left pectoral.

“Battle wound?” she asked, still breathless.

“Falling out of a tree.” At her incredulous look, he grinned, voice hoarse. “I was twelve. Trying to impress a girl.”

She laughed, truly laughed, and his expression softened into something unbearably tender. His thumb brushed the scar on her shoulder, a memento from a previous encounter.

"We're a pair, aren't we?" he said.

Sohyun studied him, the man who'd spent a lifetime playing the fool to survive, who'd handed her a kingdom without hesitation. The weight of it settled in her chest, unfamiliar and warm.

"Younghyun," she said quietly, "if you ever scare me like that again, I'll stab you properly."

He kissed her knuckles, eyes alight. "I'd expect nothing less."

Years later, their daughter found them in the poison garden. "Who rules Haneul?" she asked, clutching a history scroll.

Younghyun strummed his lute: "The fox and the fool."

Sohyun corrected, smiling: "The knife and the song."

And if sometimes, in quiet moments, the queen laughed at her king's jokes or the king sharpened like a blade to guard her blind spots?