THIS IS SOOOOO CUTEEEEE AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

THIS IS SOOOOO CUTEEEEE AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

HONEY BOY ✨

Part 1

Pairing :Yoon Jeonghan × female reader

Genre : fluff , college au , brother's best friend

Word count : 796

Warnings: nothing it's just a soft au :)

I came back finally. I never thought that mom and dad would send me here. But thanks to my annoying brother they did. He isn’t that bad he is just a basic annoying big brother who didn’t even come to receive me rather sent me the address and said to come by taxi. I need to teach him some manners.

I thankfully got a taxi immediately and then rushed to the address. He got me a studio apartment because I can’t stay with him. He said he lives with two other guys and I would definitely be uncomfortable.

It took me a good 45 minutes to reach my new house. When I entered to my surprise it was cleaned and well maintained. I never thought my brother would do that. I took a shower immediately and without unpacking I flopped in the soft bed. I was just about to get a good nap when my phone started ringing. And I am this close to killing the person who stopped me from my heavenly nap.

When I looked at the phone I saw my brother’s name flashing. What timing!

“ You know I am very close to killing you”, I threatened.

He laughed and said , “ Ahhh hello baby sister , you came finally”.

“Stop babying me Jisoo”,  I replied clearly being annoyed. The one thing I hate the most is someone babying me.

“But you are a baby y/n why shouldn’t I baby you”, he teased.

“I swear to god I am gonna kill you when I will meet you”, I replied with utmost anger. He was teasing me continuously.

“ Stop messing with her shua”, someone said in the background. Whoever he was I fell for his voice. You know the type they said from which honey dripped. It was that.

“See even your friend is supporting me, be nice like him”, I said.

“ Huh, this friend is just saying nice things but you won’t believe how evil he is”, jisoo replied sarcastically.

“Whatever, but I know no one can be as evil as you”, I said and I was dying of curiosity about that person. I couldn’t resist so I asked, “Btw what’s your angel friend’s name”.

“ What angel friend? And him?”, he started laughing like a manica and then replied, “His name is Yoon Jeonghan and he is not an angel trust me y/n you will regret saying that”.

“ See his name is also so sweet not like you and I won't regret anything”, I said confidently.

And then suddenly no one spokeand I was idiotically saying hello hello. Then he picked up, his voice as sweet as honey. I might call him my honey angel, oh my god ! I am creepy and pathetic. I cringed at my own thoughts. What's wrong with me? It's just a voice.

“Hey y/n , I am Jeonghan , Shua’s friend”, he said.

I couldn’t speak for a moment I was too mesmerized by his voice. I broke away from my thoughts when he repeatedly called my name.

“ Ughh sorry my network was bad”, I blamed my network and then continued, “ Hie Jeonghan, I am y/n and nice to meet you”, I said and blushed. And thank God he couldn't see that.

He laughed and replied, “ We haven’t met yet”.

“Ahh true”, I answered being embarassed a bit.

“It’s okay though , btw what are you doing in the evening?”, he asked.

“ umm nothing”, I confusedly replied.

“Great then, come and have dinner with us, we would love to have you here,” he said cheerfully.

Wait what? I got invited to meet him already. This is a huge deal. I took a brief pause to get my breath back and replied, “ Okay text me the address jeonghan and I will be there by 8”. I tried being cool. I can't show him how my stomach suddenly is filled with tons to butterflies.

“ Yayyyyyyy okay I will be waiting”, he said and hung up.

I can’t sleep anymore. I need to get ready and be there. I was never this excited to meet my brother like I am right now. I started jumping and throwing away outfits. I need the perfect outfit now. As I searched I found a pretty floral dress although it wasn’t my style but I guess it will do the work. 

Masterlist ☁️

Know Me 🦋

“I don’t want you to stop” + Seungcheol

a.n. originally posted on my shared blog, but i’m moving everything here to my main blog.

Warning: Angst

Your face was wet with tears, you hiccuped as you tried to catch your breath.

Seungcheol refuses to look at you. His face was red with anger and the tension was thick in the air.

“I can’t do this anymore” Seungcheol sighed. You hiccuped again.

“Seungcheol…” you went to take a step forward, but he stopped you.

“No (Y/N), I can’t do this anymore” Seungcheol ran his hand through his hair and picked up his keys that were originally thrown into the coffee table. “This has to end, we aren’t working anymore”

“I love you!” You cried “what if I don’t want you to stop loving me too?” You questioned, only to be responded with him scoffing.

“Do you really think it would be that easy?” You shook your head.

“No! I don’t think it would be that easy, but it doesn’t mean I can’t try”

The room went silent. Your eyes stayed on him whereas he looked anywhere else.

“This is over (Y/N), I’ll come to get my stuff in a few days”

Matcha latte cat thinks you deserve so much kindness. Let’s listen to matcha latte cat. 🍵

Chibird store | Positive pin club | Webtoon

middle of starting over | kim seungmin

pairing: kim seungmin x gn!reader

genre: fluff, angst, slice of life, coming of age

au: enemies to friends to maybe (?) lovers, high school au

warnings: too much high school angst, allusions to manipulative and controlling parents, exams :'D, not proof read

wc: 12.4k+

a/n: she's here, she's a year late but she's here. this was me projecting my high school traumas upon my characters, but now that i crossed that river safely, expect the ending to be shitty af :'D fr, the ending is pretty fucking shitty and i hate this, but i didn't want to abandon it entirely either.

i.

Annoying, self-opinionated and arrogant.

These were the few of your kindest insults you had reserved for Kim Seungmin.

He is, as you tell anybody who lends you an ear, completely incapable of being a decent human being for more than ten milliseconds.

Sparking a debate about the most mundane things was like a second nature to you both, and you did it whenever the opportunity presented itself. It was either white or black, never a grey area where you both came to an agreement – a yes or no, never a maybe.

Your present situation therefore, although not in your capability to have been controlled, has you positively seething in anger. You should have seen this coming and you almost regret swallowing up your ego to approach this arrogant prick.

Tapping your nails on the table, your stare angrily at the glass in front of you, the water droplets slowly trickling down the sides and into a pool around it, a temporary victim at the brunt of your anger, along with the huge wall clock on the wall opposite to yours.

Five minutes, you think to yourself, five minutes more, and if he’s not here, you’ll leave.

Just when you think that this had been a waste of time and you had been stood up, probably on purpose because Kim Seungmin is a brat, the café door opens with a jingle of the bells and in he stumbles, the source of your bad mood, hair tousled and cheeks flushed. Clearly he had run to get here, but in your annoyed state you were far from noting his appearances.

Seungmin greets your scowl with a smirk, pulling out a chair from across you and plopping on to it as he runs a hand through his mop of hair.

“You’re late,” you grit, never ceasing to scowl at the boy in front of you.

“Yeah sorry, I had baseball practice,” he says, not sounding sorry in the least.

“You could have texted me,” you roll your eyes, arms crossed over your chest, a defensive posture against the load of bullcrap you were going to have to endure for the next few minutes.

“Ah I could have…” a mock realization paints his face that you wouldn’t mind slapping off.

With every passing minute you’re growing more livid, but then you remembered that you had no choice but do this.

“Look I’m not gonna beat around the bush,” taking a deep breath you continue, “but I need your help.”

Ignoring the slight uplift of his lips had been easier when you had practically foreseen the smirk you received, much to your chagrin.

“I need you to act in my film.”

The proposal itself wasn’t short of a surprise, but Seungmin was well aware of the purpose behind your sudden need, having been informed by the source of the entire situation himself.

Initially Minho had been casted as the lead role in your short film that you were making for the annual school talent competition, but two weeks into it and one damned twisted ankle in the dance studio forced him to drop out of it in all his clutches and plastered leg glory.

With the script finalized and the shooting only a few days away and a looming deadline of only two weeks more, this was your last resort and desperate attempt at saving your ass. Minho had been as helpful as he could, guilty of the anguish he had caused you over this whole fiasco and had managed to get Seungmin to help him out.

He narrows his eyes at you, calculating your words.

“How desperate are you?” he asks, flaring your annoyance but you decide against acting upon it.

“Desperate enough to even approach you,” you bite back. You can’t help but think that maybe you should tone it down a bit, given how this boy was supposed to help you out after all.

Seungmin was actually enjoying every moment of this, right off the bat when Minho had practically begged him to help out – Minho, the boy who had threatened to shove wet tissues down Hwang Hyunjin’s mouth, had begged him – and now here you were, the very last person on this earth he expected to have a decent conversation with like he was right now.

“What’s in it for me though?” he asks, hiding the smile that threatened to burst out on noticing you playing with your thumbs in nervousness.

“You uh… get to put this on your resume?” it sounded more like a question than an answer and you mentally smack yourself, what in the world were you supposed to say?

Seungmin scoffs at your sincerity, chuckling at how you were trying to lure him with that excuse.

He didn’t mind lending a hand, especially when the prospect of adding that to his resume didn’t sound that bad, and as a drama club member he was actually looking forward to working on this short film, it was quite anticipatory; he just wanted to tease you.

Eyes trained on your fidgeting state, your nails digging crescents into your skin, he again has to suppress his smile.

“Sure,” he shrugs, leaning back into his chair.

For a moment you feel like you’ve stopped breathing, but the wave of relief that washes over you feels like a huge burden lifted off your shoulders. You almost miss the smirk on his face as you seal the deal with a nod and hand him the script.

Oh this was going to be so much fun.

Hopefully.

ii.

“Kim Seungmin? The Kim Seungmin?”

The surprise in Hyunjin’s voice is hard to conceal and so is the way Jisung is positively gawking at you, his banana milk midair and straw inches away from his lips that froze in spot when you broke the news to them.

“You two, in the same room and it didn’t like… blow up?” Jisung is amazed, clearly, at how he was reacting to this news.

You roll your eyes at him, taking this chance to steal more fries from him and stuffing them into your mouth.

The three of you were seated at your usual hangout spot, a cheap rundown bistro (cheap yes, but it serves some of the best fries in the town) a few blocks away from your house, still in your uniform as you catch up with each other.

It was funny how Jisung and Hyunjin used to hate each other’s guts, but it had taken one meal of burger and fries here for them to become friends, and now even though they had their shares of friendly banters, they were pretty darned close to be collectively making fun of you. Some friends you had.

“Shut up, it’s not a big deal,” you continued, sipping on your milkshake, “we just talked and I gave him the script, I’m expecting to hear from him this evening.”

“Hold on, if he actually agrees to work with you, do you think you can handle him around you?” Jisung cocks an eyebrow at you, slapping your hand when you reach for more fries.

“First of all,” you glare at him but manage to nab some fries anyway, “he’s already agreed to help us out, and secondly, I’ll just have to suck it up and put up with it.”

Hyunjin and Jisung are well aware of your not-so-friendly acquaintance with the boy in question, often hearing about your shenanigans, that is the impromptu debates in English classes, or your endless banters of how Seungmin had passed you in the hallways with the most arrogant look on his face and you were positive he had smirked satisfactorily when he received more marks in Math than you did.

They have been the victim of an hour long tirade where you stressed over your wrong answer and how you couldn’t believe when you had asked Seungmin for help, he had refused to.

Oh yeah, the boys were very much accustomed to this, and were likely to be subjected to something akin to this once you both came together to work on the film, because let’s be real… you and Seungmin, working together? Possibly agreeing with each other? The thought itself was short of a miracle.

You both certainly did bring out each other’s competitive sides. The last time you were paired up was for a Chemistry project, and it had taken you ages to even agree upon the topic. Needless, whatever had served as the fire for your feuds were fuelled when you failed to hand in the assignment on time, resulting in a grade you weren’t familiar with (Hyunjin was worried your face would be stuck when you frowned all day, scowling at everybody who crossed paths with you).

You definitely didn’t have to prove yourself to anyone, especially not to Seungmin, but you still did because you could. That’s just your character, one that you nurtured when all you ever amounted to was the second best after Seungmin. Every competition you both were in, every exam, even the school ranks; you always placed second – one step behind Kim Seungmin, the prodigy, the genius, the first place.

You were fine with it for as long as you could remember, but then the whispered words reached your ears – “Why do they even try so hard? They’re always the second place anyway” and the family reunions were always along the lines of, “Their grades are good, but what use is it when they can never place first?”

At first it was fine, you were absolutely okay with where you stood and how you placed, but then the dreaded questions started– “Why did you get this wrong? Why can you never do your best? Why do you always mess things up?”

The word ‘why’ started to haunt the living daylights out of you.

Why? Simply because you were the second best. Everybody can’t be the first; there has to be a second, a third, a last place. But who would make them understand?

Hyunjin casts a worried glance over your meditative state, unsure of the thoughts racing in your mind. For as long as he’s known you, the only times he’s seen you perplexed is when you’re awaiting your results and he knows better than anyone the reason behind it. Although there’s next to nothing he’s capable of doing for you when you actively refuse to talk about it in depth except your vents to both him and Jisung, he keeps telling you how he hopes one day you’ll look beyond the capitalist societal pyramid.

Moreover he’s not enthusiastic about Seungmin either, an inexplicable feeling bubbling in his chest whenever you talk of him. And for some reason he can’t put his finger to, he doesn’t like it when you bring him up in your conversations, albeit it’s another rant about how overbearing he is, his lips pursing up in irritation and a small discontent sigh leaving his lips.

A look of understanding passes between him and Jisung when you sigh and Jisung pushes his plate of fries towards you with a look of sympathy and a comforting pat on your shoulder.

Maybe this was your redemption, maybe this time you could do more than place second… who knows, maybe working with the first place himself might help?

iii.

Seungmin was well aware of his capability of changing his attitude towards you. Although the thought of getting a reaction every time he butted heads with you propelled his desires to get on your nerves, he wasn’t sure of the reason for your hostility you displayed towards him.

It didn’t anger him per se, but it certainly upset him when you wouldn’t even spare him a decent glance, always shouldering past him in a hurry as if he were the plague. But Seungmin wasn’t dumb, and he caught on pretty quickly to people’s tendencies and behaviors.

Every time he’d try to have a civil conversation with you, it seemed like you wanted nothing more than the ground to swallow you whole that talk to him. You were the one who started this rivalry, but he was the one who kept the fire flaming, thinking that maybe this was the only way to get you to acknowledge what you kept suppressing.

Your face would fall every time you got your results, fingers tightening their hold on the paper that marked the deciding factor for your future and he was almost certain your jaw was tightened in what he could only assume was disappointment.

His worried glance at your side profile would go unnoticed; instead a glare from your friend Hyunjin would greet his disconcerted face, as if this was entirely his fault.

More than once he had considered letting you take the lead, but every time his pen faltered on the wrong choice on his question paper, he would find his eyes continuously drawn towards your hunched back over your desk, the ticking of the clock unnaturally loud in his head – he ended up choosing the correct answer, his eyes trained on the ink in front of him, but his mind buzzing with countless thoughts about you – your disappointed gaze and your furious hands, shaking at what you would assume was pity on his part. And he didn’t want that, for if anything, he’d never pity you, not even when you were a coward in front of your own feelings.

As of now, he was having a hard time concentrating on the task at hand, which is, discussing the script with you.

It wasn’t just the fact that you were literally sitting beside him, your head craned over the parts he had marked out on his copy of the printed booklet, your scent indescribable but distinct to his nose, but also at how quiet it was. Sure you hadn’t offered him the warmest greetings when he had met you in the film club room after school hours, but you hadn’t sneered at him either.

Moreover, it was difficult not to ignore the ever so present stare downs he’d be subjected to by the boy sitting in front of you – Hwang Hyunjin.

It was something akin to having to tread precariously around you, because one wrong move, and he was sure Hyunjin would shoot him down with lasers from his eyes. The tension, if not apparent enough, was quite high, contrary to the way the late summer rays filtered into the room in a pleasant way.

The only sounds while you went over the parts Seungmin had circled with a pencil were the whirring of the fan above you and the soft din of the cicadas murmuring outside. Occasionally you could hear Hyunjin moving around in his chair, swiping through his film camera, the sleeves of his shirt rubbing across the wooden table in a soft whisper as he sat hunched over the device.

“I don’t get it, what do you not like about this?” you frown at the huge ‘why?’ written in the column, your mind already disconcerted at that dreaded word.

Your frown catches Hyunjin’s expression, his back straightening as he leaned back into his chair and watched you two.

Seungmin clears his throat, peering over at the part you pointed out before answering.

“It’s just… I don’t understand why you’re so insistent on such an open ending?” you raise your brow for an explanation.

Seungmin inhales deeply before continuing,

“The entire point of your plot is based on teen angst, necessarily just another means of portraying all their frustration; don’t you think you should have a more solid ending to it? The protagonist started out in a limbo, but they get nowhere near to figuring things out by the end of it, you literally let the viewers wonder a possible outcome of it without providing a substantial concluding point. After all that ordeal, shouldn’t you at least show that everything turns out right?”

You chew your lips throughout Seungmin’s rationalization, but that’s anything you would term it as.

“That is,” you stress, rubbing your forehead, “the whole point of this.”

You turn to look at the boy in distress and truth be told you had expected him to question you about it. It was simple to him, anything that was left unanswered, he would leave no rocks unturned to find one; and now you had to explain to him why turning all the rocks was useless when one had no clue what they were searching for in the first place.

“The reason my protagonist remains – needs to remain - in the indeterminate state till the very last stage is because not everything has a conclusive ending to it, and sometimes some questions need aging to be answered, because it’s just not the right time.”

Frowning at you, he purses his lips at your reasoning, clearly not in the same boat as you.

“But you clearly indicate a hopeful ending what with them coming to definitive conclusions in most cases, and it’s so obvious that it’ll be a satisfactory ending with an insight into everything that went wrong, and how-“

“Yes, I know,” you cut him off, resisting your urge to roll your eyes at him, “That’s what I aim for, to show that hopes are nothing but a temporary pillar of support that are bound to come crumbling down sooner or later and that’s exactly what societal pressure does. The only appropriate finale is one where people are left thinking of the different possibilities, and to show that this is not where it ends and there’s so much more to life than just…”

Your breathing is heavy by the time you finish, your gaze a little too harsh on the surprised boy who looked like he had more to say, but after your monologue he steeled himself.

“Not everything needs to have an explanation.”

Your words trail into a heavy silence in the room that had started to feel too hot for your comfort; you feared you had given away too much of yourself, having caught yourself in this vulnerable moment. An embarrassing heat starts crawling up your neck and making its way across your cheek, a flush blooming on them and your eyes avert themselves from the boy who had made you like this.

You felt miserable, your heart only beating harder against your chest when you heard Hyunjin clear his throat; you had almost forgotten about him.

You did not like the look Seungmin’s eyes held, he was looking at you with a peculiar expression, almost as if he could read you like an open book, and you were positive you saw him choke back on whatever he was about to say like he pitied your moment of vulnerability and decided not to use it against you.

Hyunjin’s gaze flickered between your stiff posture and Seungmin’s equally awkward one, his own hands gripping the camera in them tighter.

He did not like how you two had stepped off, and certainly wasn’t delighted at the prospect of having Kim Seungmin around you.

His eyes caught that of Seungmin’s, and glared at him warningly; a silent conversation that made the latter look away, his own fingers clenching into a fist that went unnoticed by you.

iv.

The rock Hyunjin kicks with his feet skids across the pavement in front of him, rolling away pathetically to the side with small thuds.

The sky was starting to soften its hues, the last golden streaks of light filtering through the pale blue canvas with specks of coral clouds stretched across it.

Hyunjin and you walked side by side, your lips sucking on the strawberry milk as you took lazy steps towards your home with Hyunjin in tow, his tie loose across his chest and hands languidly placed in his pant pockets, his steps sluggish as well.

“Has Jisung got all the equipment arranged yet?” he asks first to break your comfortable silence.

Taking another sip on your milk you nod and swallow the sugary liquid before adding,

“Thankfully we managed to arrange for most of the school equipment, that way we don’t need to spend from our pockets.”

Hyunjin nodded in acknowledgement, kicking yet another rock on his way and hauling the strap of his bag that was falling off his shoulder.

He can’t help but think about what happened a while ago.

Seungmin hadn’t questioned you anymore, merely nodding at you nonchalantly when you informed him of the first rehearsal scheduled for tomorrow morning, waving at you both like nothing had happened before leaving.

You had only stopped by the vending machine in the hallway to get yourself strawberry milk, your face less flushed and your limbs no longer stiff before turning at him and smiling.

“Let’s go,” you had said and he followed you like a puppy, peering at your back with narrowed eyes but not flustered at how you were back to being normal around him when you two were alone.

He had been expecting a full blown tirade all the way back home, but you seemed unusually nonchalant about the whole thing, going as far as cracking your usual jokes that he had no choice but to chuckle at despite the lingering trouble in the depths of his chest. His wistful eyes are trained on you as you lead the way, a familiar clenching in his heart to feel you near him and yet not so in reality.

Hyunjin isn’t a childhood friend unlike Jisung, yet he feels like he’s known you for his entire life. It’s more in the way you remembered little things about him, like how he had once ended up in the infirmary on the day they served crab soup for lunch, and ever since then you’d always swapped your brown bag with him on crab soup days; or how he’s picky about his vegetables, so you exchange your sausages with him just so he can at least have something filling; or the way you had handed him a water bottle after his first dance practice in high school because you remembered him telling you about it.

But then again, you were an observant person, and you did that a lot with Jisung too, you probably did that with everyone, so he wasn’t special for being subjected to your attention like that. It’s a common ground he shares with all your other friends, but Seungmin…

Seungmin was always different from him.

The way you talked about him, albeit with disdain more often than not, was so passionate, it’s like all zeal was going into pouring your emotions seethe, raw and unfiltered. Hyunjin wishes you’d talk about him like that, without any boundaries.

Seungmin might be your arch nemesis, but he had a status in your life, he gave you a reason to harbor strong feelings towards him regardless of the nature, whereas Hyunjin was… he was just a friend. All that he’ll ever be.

The melancholy gloom that shines across his eyes is hard to miss and you point it out.

“Everything okay?”

Caught off guard, his head whips towards you, now standing right in front of him with curious eyes peering into his. When did you get so close?

For a moment you’re afraid that he might still be brooding upon earlier events, and a sickening feeling clenches in your guts at the thought of being confronted about it, but it slowly dissolves into nothingness when he smiles and shakes his head softly.

“Nothing,” he ruffles your hair, “I’m just tired.”

You smile and ruffle his hair back playfully.

“Of course you are, silly. I told you to stop playing games till three in the morning,”

The frown on your face is dissatisfactory, but the pout nullifies whatever intimidating aura you wanted to give off and it makes him laugh at you.

“Okay but Felix found this really cool-”

“Felix again!” cutting off his jargon you shoot him a glare, it was always the freckled boy!

As you proceed to lecture him again on the importance of sufficient sleep, he shuts you up with a headlock, your friendly advice lost in a string of curses and protests as he drags you to the nearest ice cream vendor.

It’s the little things with you, how you absolutely refuse to help him with his homework when he forgets to do it because he’s too busy playing games all night, but you’re the one who hastily helps him copy all your answers five minutes before the submission. Although you always swear that it’ll be the last time you do it, that promise is broken every time he needs his ass saved.

Maybe being friends with you wasn’t that bad.

v.

“You’re late, again.”

If your voice didn’t sound disappointed enough, the frown on your face and lips set in a thin line sure did.

“I know,” Seungmin panted, his hair wind blown, “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

It had already happened before, but you hadn’t expected him to be this laid back on the first day of the rehearsal. You understood that he may not be really interested in helping you out, but if this was his own way of jeopardizing your goals, you were starting to have second thoughts about this whole deal.

“You’re not doing this on purpose are you? Because I swear to god Seungmin, if you’re gonna act like this then I’m really going to-“

“I didn’t do it on purpose, I had a council meeting and I got off late okay? I’m sorry, this won’t happen again.”

Seungmin was genuinely sorry for the delay he had caused, his eyes showing nothing but sincerity, an innocent glimmer in them. Did his eyes always make him look like a... a little puppy? Why had you not noticed that before?

“Well, you better get ready, we’ve been waiting long enough,” you sigh, looking away from his pleading eyes and clearing your throat.

He nods at you indulgently, rummaging in his bag for the script and taking a seat around the table you had arranged like a huge conference point, shooting an apologetic look at those around him.

The first rehearsal wasn’t too difficult, just reading the script out loud while you explained the setting and the theme simultaneously, the whiteboard serving as a canvas for you to write down pointers, and occasionally taking up questions about a scene.

Seungmin sat straight backed and wide eyed, oblivious of the two curious pair of eyes staring at his back from one corner of the room.

Hyunjin and Jisung weren’t exactly being subtle about the staring though, for it did catch your attention. As much as you liked the concern your friends had for you, it was a bit distracting nonetheless.

You glared at the two to pay attention, and while you got a shoulder shrug from Jisung, Hyunjin stared straight ahead, all his attention on you, determined not to let the nagging at the back of his head get the best of him.

“All right, that’s about it,” you wrap things up finally, throat slightly dry from all the talking, “if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask me.”

You look around expectantly at the crowd, equally as tired as you were but all the same listening to you attentively explain everything and they nod in acknowledgement. The shuffling of the chairs and mumbles was heard as everybody left, eager to finally stretch their limbs and go home after a long day of classes and film club meeting.

You were clearing things up, pushing back chairs and putting the tables in place when Seungmin walked up to you slinging his bag on his shoulder.

“Hey uh, I would stay and help, but I’ve got a tutoring lesson to attend and-“

“That’s okay,” another voice cuts him off and he turns to face Hyunjin who was already arranging the room, “(y/n)’s got us to help them out.”

The smile on his face was supposed to be a ‘it’s alright, don’t worry, we understand you have prior arrangements”, but it was more of a grimace that went “your presence here isn’t required”.

Seungmin’s grip on the strap of his bag tightened, his jaw set in mild frustration as he caught on to the meaning very easily; he wasn’t unaware of his presence not being welcome in the group that was left behind, that was you, Hyunjin and Jisung, but he also wished that Hyunjin in particular, wouldn’t always be around you all the time. What were you, five? He was like an overprotective parent over their kid. Was it going to kill him if he left you two alone for a few seconds?

But then again, he does understand where the boy was coming from, but treating him like everything was his fault and making it appear like he was different from the rest of you wasn’t necessary now, was it?

Seungmin would understand if Hyunjin stopped acting like a jealous boyfriend and manned the fuck up, rather than resorting to glare him out. Was he scared that he was going to get in between whatever puppy romance you both had going on? Were you even aware of any of this?

“Right, of course, thanks for understanding,” he grit through his teeth making sure to bump his shoulder against Hyunjin’s as he stalked off; a petty move on his part given his temperament.

“What was that?” you frowned, having noticed the tension between the two boys and the obvious shoulder bump.

“Nothing,” Hyunjin shrugged, going back to cleaning things up.

You narrowed your eyes at him, tilting your head, dubious of the way he had brushed it off and shot a glance at Jisung who shrugged at you yet again.

Lately, you’ve been noticing Hyunjin’s attitude whenever Seungmin was around.

Hyunjin was a friendly person, almost never getting angry at people or showing them disrespect nor looking down upon them, however you can’t help but think that around the latter, he was always tense and guarded, coming off colder than usual, an inscrutable look on his face all the time.

You never thought too much about it because whenever his eyes caught yours, they would soften again and his smile would be back.

You wouldn’t want Hyunjin to be someone he was not because of you. It wouldn’t be fair on your part to impose your differences on him and make him pick sides for Hyunjin and Seungmin had been on good terms up till middle school, where after things had drastically changed; you don’t want to believe it but it seemed like part of it was your fault too.

Glancing at the boy himself, you find him goofing around with Jisung again and bursting into laughter at something the latter said.

You shrugged off your thoughts and smiled at them. Hyunjin would never compromise his relationships because of you, especially not when it came to a petty rivalry like yours.

You didn’t have to worry about him, right?

vi.

Seungmin was having a hard time concentrating on the math equation in front of him.

His ears were still ringing with the disappointed words of his parents, his tutor and you.

Being the top of class was indeed a medal for him, but a medal can have varying significance for different people. As much as people liked to presume that it was a sign of victory and succes for the owner, Seungmin was far from entertainung that sentiment.

People saw him the way he had been presented to them, through a kaleidoscope of vibrant colours – achievements, top grades, student body president, the teacher’s favorite, studious and charming – the list could go on, but nobody cared to stop looking through the peephole and outside.

Top notch grades, straight A’s and fantastic overall GPA didn’t seem easy to many people, but if it came with the cost of a barren social life, then yes it was. While students his age were out doing mundane things, he was shut up in his room working through the countless workbooks dumped on his table. He couldn’t help but have the emotional capacity worth a teaspoon.

Hobbies? Interests?

Those were considered useless when his mom could easily manipulate the number of his social work hours and have him play at a concert through connections. It earned him his certificate anyway.

The medal that appeared around his neck was only a shining golden circular mark of being the best as described by society.

The medal that he really wore weighed him down, the silken strings holding it up fraying around his neck leaving marks of strangulation.

His glassy eyes travel to the ‘89’ scribbled out on the top of his mock paper, his mother’s words resounding through his head again as he loses track of the task at hand for the fifth time in a row. He was going crazy, and he could feel it.

Throwing the pen across the desk, he abandons the question in frustration, running a hand through his hair as another disappointed face flashed through his mind – you.

Of all people, it had to be you.

When Seungmin had first met you, you both had been in the same class in your first year of middle school, and he had heard about you being the top in your class. But you had been so different from him.

Where he had awkwardly sat on his desk, playing with his fingers till he could take it no more and turned to flipping through his chemistry book no matter how much he was judged about it, you had a huge circle of people around you.

Yet you never stood out in that circle. You didn’t glow with the light of someone who ranks first in class, your friends didn’t treat you judiciously just because you had good grades and they didn’t treat you like you were any different.

You just fit right in.

You laughed and joked, you got into trouble for chatting in class and you were always running around the hallways with those two boys.

He wonders where it all went wrong.

Was it when he placed first in class and gave you a cold shoulder when you smiled at him from across the room? Or was it when he joined in jokingly about you having to be second from then on?

Whenever it was, whatever it was, you didn’t smile that often anymore, especially not at him. But you were still the same; you still fit in with the crowd while he… he still stood out awkwardly while being politely applauded in the morning assemblies.

His eyes find the faint squares on his white walls, remnants of the dust that had collected along the edges of the movie posters he had put up - the same ones he was forced to take down when he had made the mistake of mentioning to his parents about wanting to pursue film school.

His dreams had changed since then; molded into obedience under the condition he could still have it as a hobby.

You had dreams you worked towards, willingly so, and you had an ambition for the same.

Him? He required permission to even have dreams.

Sighing he retrieves his pen, burying his nose once again into his books. It was going to be a long night.

vii.

Seungmin made sure that his tardiness was a one time occurrence only, and true to his word he was usually the first one to arrive for rehearsals.

The entire week had been dedicated to the actors acting their parts out and remembering their lines. The production team on the other hand was busy gathering the props and working out the technicalities of the shoot.

What with having to juggle your time between the two departments, you were starting to feel the strain of all the exertion.

You were the kind of person who bit off more than they could chew, rather than asking for people’s help. It’d be modest to bring to people’s notice that this was solely because you didn’t want to burden others with your work; but there was more to that. You weren’t really the trusting type.

Other than that, you also liked to work solo for the most part, not having a particular affinity to being instructed as to what was to be done; moreover this way you wouldn’t be worrying about people being irresponsible and insincere with their part of the jobs. All in good favor too, you’ve been part of many group projects all through your middle and high school to know that there’s always a last minute rush where that one student’s work is distributed to the other members to ensure they don’t receive a failing grade.

You would much rather be prepared for everything and bear the extra burden than face that.

However, even with exams out of the way and almost no classes, you were exhausted by the time the day was over and barely had the energy to walk home. Hyunjin had to half drag and half carry you back, and if you were lucky, he’d carry your bag for you.

But the state of your being was alarming, even to your friends who saw you every day. Your eyes were tired and you could barely stay awake during classes.

Today being particularly hectic, for the production team had run a mock filming session after school hours with all the lighting and filming equipments, by the time you were finished it was close to around four in the evening.

As you saw the others off, thanking them for all the hard work, you couldn’t help but have thoughts of just flopping onto your bed the minute you reached home.

Hyunjin was making quite a fuss around you, a frown on his face at the prospect of you walking alone because unfortunately he had dance practice.

“Hyunjin just go,” you whined, pushing him gently, “It’s not like I can’t walk home alone, I can take care of myself.”

With the way your words were slightly slurring as if you were on the brink of getting just enough tipsy, he wasn’t as confident about your claims as you were.

“Are you sure? Please don’t fall asleep on some random bench or in the park,” he pleaded, earning a hard hit on the chest.

“What the hell? I’m not drunk you idiot, I can still form coherent thoughts,” you snap.

In hindsight, Hyunjin was just as worried about your deestructive sleep pattern, as you were for his. The other day, had he not been there, you would have probably woken up at the last bus stop.

“All right fine, call me when you get home okay?”

“Geez what are you, my father?”

“I’m not leaving unless you promise me,”

“Fine, fine! I will okay? Now go,” you whine again and he can’t help but think you’re cute when you’re irritable like this. With another hearty chuckle he leaves patting your hair and pinching your cheeks so you can pout at him one last time.

You glance at your watch and then at the folder on your desk that Jisung had left for you to look over. It contained a few specifics of the shoot and a pendrive that had yesterday’s filming recorded on it.

Biting your lips in thought, you wonder whether it would hurt to go through the clips right now. You knew you were most probable to be knocked out cold once you reached home, resulting in getting no work done, especially when you craved a good sleep after the consecutive all nighters you had pulled, sneaking in naps during history and physics class (bold of you to miss out on physics, but you’ve never been good at it anyway).

You exhale deeply and pull out a chair, determined to have at least one task checked off your list.

Not even fifteen minutes later, Seungmin finds you in the empty classroom, your head resting precariously on your palm, mouth slightly agape and nodding off into a restless slumber.

He had forgotten his water bottle and only remembered half way to his home, rushing back immediately to retrieve his belonging; it could have waited till tomorrow but he was mostly afraid that someone would steal it, or he would have to go through the tedious task of sorting through years of piled up lost and found trinkets to find it.

He’s surprised to see you there, more so dozing off in front of your screen and he can only assume that you were supposed to be working but had fallen asleep.

He ponders whether he should leave you like that or wake you up; obviously the latter but it was at that moment he spotted his flask on the table where he had last left it in a hurry during a shooting break.

Quietly tracing his steps towards it, he’s cautious about making a sound and waking you up in surprise. Picking the bottle he turns towards you, nudging you gently on your arm to wake you up but you don’t budge.

He moves to shake you again but stops this time, flinching when you shift and your head almost hits the table. He’s quick to react though and extends his hand, cushioning your fall; unfortunately it wakes you up.

Your eyes blink in half daze and half surprise, confused in your interrupted state and at how you ended up in this less than comfortable position.

Scrambling to your feet, you brush your hair unceremoniously, combing through them with your fingers, eyes blinking the sleep away rapidly. It’s the surprise of being caught in the act of dozing off, but it’s the embarrassment that comes with Seungmin being the one to catch you in the act that makes you flustered, and you’re not sure why, because it’s not like you’re answerable for your actions to him.

“I wasn’t sleeping,” you blurt out defensively, even though you hadn’t been provoked into a justification, but you deemed it necessary to do so anyway.

Seungmin nods slowly, not saying anything except perking his brows curiously, waiting for any further explanations and hiding a smile when you fumbled to do so, packing up your belongings as fast as you could. It’s only when you almost trip while trying to leave that he calls out for you, making you stop in your tracks and turn round.

“Do you want me to walk you home?” he asks hesitantly, scratching his neck.

“What?” you stood stunned in your place, surely your ears were ringing or your mind was playing games with you, because Seungmin could not have just asked you that; he would never. But blinking at his flushed face and hopeful eyes, which confused you to a certain point, you couldn’t have been mistaken.

One thing led to another and after a mumbled “it’s okay, you don’t have to” that he countered with a, “it’s fine, I have a tutoring lesson and it’s on the way”, you find yourself walking alongside him, an awkward silence that made you overly conscious of your hunched back and whether your shoe hit the gravel too loudly or whether your breathing was too loud–

“So umm, we start shooting next week then?” Seungmin breaks the silence with a question so painstakingly obvious, he’s surprised you don’t roll your eyes at him.

“Yeah, we do.”

Your voice is but a squeak, cracking on the first syllable and your face heats up in that moment, mentally face palming.

It’s weird because you’ve never found yourself in the presence of Seungmin like this, so… so awkward and uncharacteristically quiet. Not that you’re yelling at each other all the time you’re together, but it’s never quite felt this way, as if you’re both calculating your next movements carefully to avoid making a fool out of yourselves; that kind of thing never happened because it didn’t matter.

The walk back home makes your stomach twist in knots in an uncomfortable dread; it was at least a fifteen minute walk, roughly ten if you sprinted for your life right now and face not being able to face Seungmin tomorrow morning – but a lot could happen in fifteen minutes, like you could trip and fall and make an utter embarrassment of yourself and still not be able to face him tomorrow, or you could clutch the strap of your backpack the way you were doing it right now because your hand brushed across his one too many times for your comfort and now it felt like you had grown an extra set of limbs that were too disproportionate and your heels ached with the amount of pressure you were grinding them with on the ground.

Seungmin wasn’t enjoying this either – oh he was enjoying the way your hands brushed across each other’s but he was not enjoying the split second your eyes would meet after that and another awkward silence would follow. Where the hell was his sassiness when he needed it? Why couldn’t he just joke it off like he was trying to joke off the heat across his neck due to the sun?

It was unusual for him to be tongue tied around you.

Now that his mind permits him to think, he realizes that the only exchanges you both have had were either debates on political agendas or disagreements about solving physics equations. He’s certain that at some point he had been curious about you outside of your opinions on vector calculations, but as much as he racks his brain he can’t remember what he wanted to ask.

Or maybe he just doesn’t think he has the right to snoop around you. If that were the case, it’d be very sad indeed.

"Oh hey um, about Hyunjin…" you start, trailing off in the end as you peered up at Seungmin cautiously. You decided it would be best to acknowledge the elephant in the room if you didn't want any more disputes than you already did.

Seungmin raises an eyebrow at you, oddly disappointed that you brought your friend into the conversation that you started. He shouldn't be feeling this way really, he had no right to be slightly annoyed at you for bringing up the last person he'd rather talk to you about.

Fair enough, you weren't aware given his history with the boy had never been made known to you, both of them choosing to stay silent on the topic and ignoring it till they couldn't stand looking at each other.

The reason as to why till this date, Seungmin always feels a pang of guilt when he sees you trying to hide your own disappointment when you don't do well in a test.

And perhaps jealousy when Hyunjin is the one you turn to during those times. But surely not, he couldn't possibly have a perception of that feeling because he had no reason to be jealous of Hyunjin. Not when he put his arm around your shoulder or ruffled your hair or rested his head on your shoulder...he couldn't be jealous, surely not.

You hesitate in your words on seeing how Seungmin's jaw clenched at the mention of Hyunjin.

"I know you both are not on the best terms," you say carefully, eyes trained ahead, "but I just wanted to thank you,"

Seungmin is, quite reasonably so, surprised at your words, turning his eyes towards you incredulously.

"...for putting your differences aside and helping me out," your voice is much more stable now that you're not hyperventilating, and are genuinely trying to show that you're sincere about your gratitude.

Had you both not been alone right now, walking together side by side in the late afternoon, Seungmin would probably have scoffed.

He would have scoffed despite your intentions, because that was his defense mechanism against you. That was the front he had carefully built up to stop feeling bad about being mean to you every time.

But here you were again, so opposed to the image he had built of you at the back of his mind - an annoying show off - and yet, here you were, apologising when he should clearly be the one doing it.

Pettiness, as Seungmin realised that afternoon, was not a word he liked to be associated with, but ironically that was all he amounted to.

In that moment a huge wave of embarrassment washes over him, teeth biting down on his lips as he searched for words yet again.

Seungmin has never felt strong feelings towards someone of any nature. His dislikes and likes are strongly embedded in the way he approaches things - calculatively and unbiased. So then why did this unreasonable feeling rise in his chest every time he saw you? What was he so spiteful about? Why was he so jealous just because you were significantly happier than him?

All he knew was that he was content with being mad at you for being different, for smiling at him across the room, for being so easygoing, for having friends who were good to you.

Pettiness, as Seungmin realises that afternoon, is not a good feeling; and that was all he amounted to.

viii.

Hyunjin was usually very attentive behind the camera, particularly about getting the shot at the right angle, the light to shadow ratio vital in making it perfect.

But the reason his brows were furrowed at the moment was not because the lighting was off, but because you were laughing…at something Seungmin said.

He found it odd enough when you had smiled back at him at the start of the shoot, and made attempts at striking up conversation with him.

And he didn't like it.

He didn't like the way you were giggling right now, face hidden behind the blue folder you had in your hand and how he was smiling along with you.

"If you stare any harder, you're gonna burn holes through his head."

Jisung is kind enough to stop him from staring Seungmin's soul out before anyone notices, handing him a bottle of banana milk that Hyunjin promptly took a long angry sip from.

The implication of his realisation comes a bit later, but a part of him is aware that it's because of his small little crush on you.

And it would have been fine had it been a small little crush, except it wasn't and it had manifested in the worst way possible - from the way he would have to physically force himself to look away when you so much as smiled at him, or the small pang of disappointment every time you reminded him that you were best friends.

Do best friends get no further than this?

Regardless of the feelings he had harboured for you, he knowingly ignores the guilt at the pit of his stomach to have made things sour between you and Seungmin.

In retrospect, Hyunjin didn't think it was a good idea for you two to be in the same room but now that you were, he couldn't get past your new friendship.

He wasn't an obsessive type, but undeniably so, he was upset. He couldn't explain the small pinch to his heart when he saw you talking, smiling, giggling at whatever Seungmin said; he felt like a kid sulking because his parents wouldn't let him stay up after bedtime which was unreasonable for a lot of reasons.

Contrary and oblivious to Hyunjin's inner conflict, Seungmin on the other hand feels oddly lightheaded.

He feels his chest unclench and relax, somewhat like the mildly exhilarating feeling after exams are over and he has a week to enjoy his short lived freedom.

Surprisingly (and how typical), he finds that talking to you is easy. In fact, talking to people is pretty easy, and his classmates have always been indulgent. It's also easy to agree with you when you aren't hissing at him and vice versa.

Last evening had been nothing but awkward shuffling and floundering hands, but the silent walk back to his home had given him a chance to reflect back on your words.

That was the first time in ages you had smiled at him after he walked you to your door, reminding him not to be late for the actual shooting that started the day after and wishing him luck.

Back home, his eyes kept getting drawn towards your script and after quite a long drawn contemplation on whether he should give up on his math assignment or not, he had discreetly slipped it under his textbook, conveniently hiding it so that if his mom were to come in any second, he could just shove it further up.

To be fair, Seungmin had been expecting a much more lighthearted theme from you since Minho hadn't completely indulged in all the details.

He had been thinking more along the lines of school romances, love triangles, letters in your lockers from secret admirers and all that jazz. What he wasn't expecting was this.

Just teens...trying to get through high school and figuring things out.

In Seungmin's opinion, you had done a fair job at it too, and despite small criticisms he had nothing against your concept. But he wonders why you would make such a choice when you could play it safe and take the trusted path of the cliche romance genre.

Was it too mainstream for you? Or were you against playing it safe anymore being your last year of school?

Seungmin had gone to bed that night with a lot of thoughts, none of which were about the covalent and ionic bonds quiz he had the next day and your script that had hit home too hard to be completely ignored and your words replaying like a chant in his head.

He didn't dread the day that was to come for the first time since middle school, looking forward to it in anticipation, going as far as to hope that this could be the beginning of a new friendship (he knew not to hope too much though).

Perhaps it was the excitement of doing something he loved - acting and being a part of the drama club, the one place where he could be someone he wanted to be – someone he wasn't.

The only thing he was passionate about.

Or it may have been the thrill of skipping cram school for the first time.

The first time doing something rebellious of that extent, something he had only ever thought of, walking you home and having a conversation with you that lasted only a few minutes but wasn't another debate session.

There was a first for everything, he reasons, drifting off to sleep with a small smile.

ix.

A week from when you started shooting, everything was smooth sailing.

You couldn't ask for more when your team was dedicated to their work without you having to worry about anything.

Sure a part of you was still apprehensive and staying up till four in the morning had become a routine, but it was worth the results you achieved by the end of that one week.

It seemed too good to be true, but you were also on better terms with Seungmin and as much as Hyunjin held a grudge against him, you could see he was making efforts to not glare him down every time he approached you.

With the filming coming to a close soon, you realised with a surprise that two weeks had flown by in an instant. Where had the time gone?

It was during one of those quiet moments you rarely found what with all the chaos of shooting all day long, that Seungmin found you trudging your way through the school gates.

He caught up to you in no time and offered to walk you home to which you narrowed your eyes in contemplation but eventually took him up on his offer (totally not because he bribed you with free boba).

Oddly enough though (and you weren't expecting this), you found yourself enjoying Seungmin's company more and more. It was easier to agree on things when you were both being reasonably respectful of each other's views.

In retrospect, Seungmin wasn't a bad company.

To be fair you don't think you've ever hated Seungmin, just his…perfect model student image that you couldn't stand.

On the usual route back to your home after making a stop for your promised boba, you trudge your way towards the small playground that was empty at this hour of the day and given the lack of children you drag your feet tiredly to the swings, Seungmin in tow.

"I thought you had cram school on Thursdays?" taking a long sip of your boba you look at him questioningly

Seungmin pushes his feet across the ground, swaying on the swing gently before answering hesitatingly.

"I…I'm skipping today."

You can't help but whip your head at him incredulously, brows shooting alarmingly high.

"You? You're skipping?"

You're too surprised to even form anything more than that, your brain still grasping the fact that Kim Seungmin of all people was skipping classes.

"Why are you so surprised?" your reaction eliciting a frown from him.

Scoffing, you only come up with incoherent noises of disbelief at the obviousness of his statement of which he is oblivious.

"Do you skip often?" you lean towards him, dragging your swing slightly to his side, curiosity getting the best of you.

"No!"

For someone skipping classes, Seungmin sure seems to be appalled at the thought itself.

"I-I mean…" he stutters at your skeptical look, "I do have my fair amount of pretending to be sick so I can skip, it's just…"

There is clearly a 'but' to this even though it goes unsaid, hanging in the air like an embarrassing secret.

"Why do you try so hard?"

"Well why do you try so hard?"

"It's because you're always–" you huff out a sigh of desperation that is brought upon by your incapability to explain this, "because of you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" frowning, his head tilts in confusion.

"Oh you know…" you huff out, glancing at him to get your point across but as it seems, he doesn't know; that is clear from the way his eyes blink at you in confusion.

You breathe out in frustration, waving your arms in the air.

"It's just that, you're so good at everything it's honestly annoying!"

If anything your exclamation only confuses him further, face screwing up in perplexion.

"Oh don't act like you don't know," you accuse but interrupt him when he opens his mouth to respond to your accusation.

"You're the student council president, a model student with straight A's and you always manage to keep your first spot even after skipping classes," you scoff, taking Seungmin's silence as a sign to continue and dared not looking at him in the eyes because you sure felt like a kid complaining now that you actually put your thoughts in words.

Your words settle themselves like heavy blocks falling on dust, stirring up a small tornado of emotions but which does down now that you were merely putting it out there without any resentment.

"And then there's me," even Seungmin can hear the disappointment in your voice, but you hadn't really tried to mask it in the first place, "no matter how hard I try or how late I stay up cramming in those textbooks, I barely manage to get second. You make it seem so easy."

Your voice is not accusatory anymore nor do you intend to blame Seungmin, however you sound like your disappointment is nothing but a result of your own incapability of being good at something you feel like you are obligated to be good at.

Seungmin doesn't say anything.

The air is heavy with silence and you still refuse to look at him. You feel like you've made things awkward again between you both and you're about to apologize when he finally breaks the silence

"Is that why you hate me?"

"What- I don't hate you…" you emphasize, "I just can't stand you sometimes and as immature as this makes me sound, I'm jealous of you."

His eyes widen in surprise, beseeching you to look at him but you make sure to keep your flushed face directed towards the ground that suddenly seemed interesting.

"You're jealous of me?"

"Well, not exactly in a bad way, if that even makes sense…" you trail off yet again, unsure of what to say or even how to say it, kicking at the ground abashedly.

"Don't be, there's literally nothing to be jealous of about me."

The sudden hostility in his voice makes you look up, afraid that you had unconsciously provoked buried wounds by rubbing your mouth, the frown on his face deepening the anxiety that had slowly started to spiral up your chest.

The more you look at him though, the less you're convinced that it was mere annoyance on his part. There's something so pathetic in the way he sits on the swing, hands folded in his laps that make no attempt at moving, his lips downturned and eyes staring blankly at the ground. He looks so tired, you almost wish you could pull him over and rest his head on your shoulder and insist on him to sleep it all away.

Seungmin doesn't have much to say, in fact, he feels the need to think his thoughts out at least twice before saying something. Speaking his heart out had never been a concept he had been accustomed to, but as he rests his head on the cold metal chains of the swing, he shuts his eyes and says the one thing he has been meaning to say to you subconsciously, which tumbles out of his lips without a second thought, but he's glad he says it.

x.

Seungmin has always been the epitome of neatness.

His hair is always neatly parted on the side, clothes ironed perfectly, shoes always polished and his intelligent eyes only ads to this persona he had built up.

The Seungmin you were met with today was anything but that.

His honey brown locks were dishevelled, still soft on his head, his eyes blinking slowly while the bags underneath them made his face look paler than you had ever seen.

And he was so uncharacteristically quiet.

That's saying a lot, because he was usually quiet but today he just held emptiness in his eyes, his lips pursed up and barely even moving the entirety of your classes.

In between breaks he would place his head on the desk and turn his face away from his desk mate; not that he would have to worry about being disturbed since they barely ever talked much.

Hyunjin catches you worried glances over at the boy, sucking in a breath when your gaze lingers for a while before Jisung has your attention again with something. He can't help but look across the room at the head lying on the table, buried between his hands. Did something happen between you two yesterday?

You barely find a chance to talk to Seungmin the entire day, but he approaches you at lunch with heavy steps and a pale face.

"Hey, I don't think I'll be able to make it to rehearsal today."

His words are hoarse, as if someone had been scratching at it the entire day and you instinctively put out a hand on his forehead.

Seungmin is taken aback, stumbling at your touch but finds it hard to resist leaning into the touch of your cool hands across his hot skin.

"Yeah, you probably should rest up today," the worry on your face makes Seungmin want to rest his head on your shoulder, but he's unable to meet your eyes for long, feeling guilty about having to skip rehearsal knowing well that in less than two days you would have the actual shooting and his absence would only hinder it.

"Do you want to rest in the infirmary? I can take you," you push yourself up, trying your best not to come off as too concerned but at the same time unable to keep the worry at bay, because Seungmin looked like he could really use some rest.

He nods at you without thinking too much, wanting to be away from the noisy cafeteria and the smell of food, his own appetite acting against his favour.

You catch Hyunjin on the way, a very sickly Seungmin leaning on your hand for support, raising his brows in question that you only shake your head at dismissively before weaving your way through the busy cafeteria, leaving Hyunjin standing on his spot with a longing gaze at your disappearing figure, alongside a honey haired boy.

You find the infirmary empty, even the nurse on her lunch break and no other occupants in the beds, since mostly students only faked a headache or stomach ache in between a boring History or French lesson. Lunch time was the only time the nurse didn't have to hide a tired smile at the countless excuses she had to endure with a knowing countenance.

Seungmin finds the first bed he can and collapses on it with a heavy sigh, taking off his shoes as he lays his throbbing head on the soft pillow, eyes closing in pleasure at the cool fabric kissing his cheeks.

Unsure of what to do with the nurse absent, you tuck the sheets across his chest gently.

"I guess I'll head back now. I'll tell the nurse on my way back that you're sick, so just get some rest for now."

"Wait (y/n)," his voice croaks out, muffled against the pillow pressing against his cheeks, "can you stay for a while?"

When you don't answer, he thinks jes crossed a line, opening his drowsy eyes in a panic with an apology ready on the top of his tongue. Instead, he sees you dragging a stool over to sit beside him.

His cheeks flush when you smile at him, or maybe it was because of his temperature. Either way, he finds a heat flush up his neck.

"T-thanks," you shrug at him and he relaxes back into the sheets.

Without having much to do, you glance around the room absently, finding yourself glancing at the sick boy ever so often before he catches you and you have to look away with a flush that mirrors his, except you don't have a temperature.

"You shouldn't have come to school today if you weren't well."

"Didn't wanna stay home," he mumbles baack, balling up his fists around the sheets.

You're certain something had happened to Seungmin, but since this was your first time seeing him this sick to the point where his voice was but a whisper, you didn't want to assume anything.

"Is everything okay?" you test the waters cautiously. You didn't want to poke your nose in his personal life, you were far from meddling in other people's business, but you were genuinely bothered at how he turned up to school with probably a high fever, when he could as well have stayed at home since he did mention before that he had no qualms about skipping classes.

"I fought with my mom last night," he says. You can only blink at him, feeling the need to say something but unsure of what to say.

"She found out I skipped cram school last night."

Seungmin felt like a five year old, complaining about a scolding he had received, sulking with a pout on his face except this was much more than just a small reprimandation for breaking a cookie jar.

Your quiet acknowledgement is enough for him, as is your presence beside him. You were just letting him speak his mind out without saying anything, without obligating him to understand his parents, and he was thankful for that, the feeling blooming in his chest immensely in his dazed state and soon he felt the fabric under his cheeks drenched, a trail of tears flowing down the side of his face in ugly sobs.

While his sudden tears surprise you, you understand the need to let him cry it all out. It's not difficult to connect the dots from last night and right now. You had conveniently overlooked the sadness on the swings last night, the tired face and drooping eyes and the whispered words he had said with such hope and despair.

You pat his head gently, feeling him bury his head under the sheets as his entire body quivered feverishly under your hand. His broken sobs and loud sniffs are muffled under the sheets and you can only wonder at how much he's been holding it back and for how long.

As his sobs subside, his sniffs turning into soft snores, your eyes refuse to leave his face that peeked out from under the covers, his tired face relaxed and cheeks still wet with tears.

You recall his words from last night, and only realise how much a part of you had severely hoped for the same. For no matter how much you fought with him, your differences and banters had never been intended to hurt each other.

"Don't hate me too much (y/n)," he had said, "I don't think I would be able to handle that."

A pang resounds within your heart, tumbling down to the bottom where it lands with a thud amidst a hollowness you never knew existed. You don't think you can ever hate the boy who cried himself to sleep with your fingers running through his hair.

You don't think you can ever hate Kim Seungmin.

xi.

The ball soars high and hits the board, but rather than going through the loop, it bounces back and falls to the ground where it rolls over to a stop after a while.

Pushing his hair away from his face, Hyunjin sighs at yet another missed shot.

The door to the gymnasium opens with a loud creak and Hyunjin turns around to find you jogging towards him with a smile that he returns.

"Did the basketball team finally let you play in their free time?"

Hyunjin pouts at you, scoffing dramatically as if hurt by your words. He tried but never quite made it into the team and it sort of became a running joke between you two, except you're the only one who was amused by it and he tended to sulk whenever you brought it up.

"Why are you always bullying me," whining, he throws the ball at you softly and you manage to catch it with a loud guffaw.

"Sorry sorry, did I upset the little boy?" you coo, pinching his cheeks and his sullen expression disappearing at your touch to be replaced by a smile he couldn't suppress.

"Aren't you going to get lunch?"

Hyunjin shrugs, sitting cross legged on the floor and leaning back on his hands. You join him, pulling out two granola bars from your pocket and throwing one at him.

"How's Seungmin?" Hyunjin asks, peeling off the wrapper and taking a huge bite of the bar, "He took an entire week off."

You nod, pursing up your lips as you vrish away the crumbs off your shirt, "He's better, I think he'll be back in school next week."

Hyunjin nods in acknowledgement, and you both eat in silence after that. He glances at you once or twice, his head buzzing with thoughts and occasionally pondering upon Jisung's advice, which he was skeptical of, but even so he found practicality in it. Moreover, he didn't want his feelings to remain unsaid, albeit rejected, but he didn't want to live with the regret of never doing what was to be done at some point.

"Hey (y/n)," he starts, your eyes widening in question as you finished up with the last bite of your bat, shoving it in your mouth which made them puff out much like how Jisung's would when he ate, "Have you ever liked someone?"

Your brows furrow, mouth too full to form words but it's a question that does get you thinking. Have you ever liked someone?

Having a crush, as a middle schooler, on your then senior Bang Chan, would have counted had the entire batch not had a collective crush on the dimpled boy who was too kind to everyone to even notice them swooning over him. Apart from him, you remember crushing on the foreign exchange student – Lee Felix – for an entire week before you found out he had a girlfriend.

Of course you had crushes, some even nameless and faceless now in the back of your mind, but you never truly liked someone with that sentiment. Your thoughts waver and you're suddenly thinking of a boy with honey brown hair and eyes that make him look like a puppy. Cheeks flushing, you gulp forcibly, wishing you had milk to down the food in your mouth, almost choking at the sudden semi revelation.

"Umm...no?" It came out more as a question which didn't go unnoticed by Hyunjin.

"What about Seungmin?"

The assumption is so unpredictable, sprung up on you like a surprise and it manages to catch you off guard.

"Wh–what do you mean?"

The slight panic in your eyes and your fiddling fingers make his heart sink at your own obliviousness. Hyunjin already knew that he had shot his shot, and the ball had entirely missed the hoop. There was an incorrigible finality in the realisation that settled upon him – you definitely didn't like him the way he did. This was by far his worst shot, and yet he found himself being forced to accept it with all but a sadness that he knew would pass with time.

"He likes you, you know that right?"

"What the hell are you even saying? I thought you didn't even like him," you stutter through your words, widening your eyes at him incredulously.

"I don't, but you do."

"Hyunjin…."

He shrugs nonchalantly, as if this wasn't the first time he had made you question your own feelings towards the boy who had, by far, been at the brunt of anything but your affection. If Hyunjin couldn't make the shot himself, he was willing to pass on the ball to someone he could, albeit his dislike and reluctance to it.

"Why are you suddenly telling me this?"

Hyunjin is quiet for a minute, gathering his own thoughts while staring at the floor, all the while aware of your gaze on him. One last shot, and then he promised to himself he'd pass the ball.

"There's someone I've liked for a long time now," he starts quietly, surprisingly calm despite his sweaty hands, "and for a long time I didn't realise that I actually liked them as more than a friend."

Hyunjin has to stop and scoff at his own words; saying them out loud only made him realise what a fool he had been.

"But they always seemed to be thinking and talking about someone else; that someone else being a boy they claim to have hated with every fiber in their being," with each word, you grow more and more apprehensive, clutching the untucked hem of your shirt in a fist as he went on.

"They talked about him so much, me and my friend bet at one point that they probably liked him and I couldn't help but be jealous of him. No matter what we talked about, he was somehow always dragged into the conversation and it upset me. But now…now I'm wondering whether I was wrong in ignoring my jealousy just because you hated Seungmin, and whether I still have a chance because...because you don't hate Seungmin, do you?"

Hyunjin's expectant eyes find you, the smallest glimmer of hope he couldn't find in himself to hide when you look back at him with a conflicted gaze.

The silence is nerve wrecking and he finds himself letting the ball from his hands slip with every second that passes.

"I…I don't hate Seungmin, no. I could never hate him. I'm sorry Hyunjin…."

Your voice fails you in the end, unable to form the words that sit at the tip of your tongue.

Hyunjin nods at you, shooting a smile that pains him.

"You don't hate me now, do you?"

You smile and shake your head, trying your best to be as genuine as you could through your actions, because in all honesty, you had no idea what to say to him right now. He smiles back gratefully, gulping down the disappointment that threatens to rise up his throat.

With that Hyunjin's hold on the ball completely loosens and he's left with empty hands and a hollow heart.

xii.

Seungmin works hard on his math mock test, scoring a perfect hundred despite having missed an entire week of classes with a splitting headache and a bad case of fever.

While still not on the best terms with his mother, they both eventually agreed upon a common ground. That included him being able to take part in the drama club activities more often on the condition, he no longer skipped classes and cram school. He was only too willing to oblige, finding it hard to hide the tremble in his hand when his mother handed him back the box of posters he had taken down.

You let out a laugh in the middle of dinner when you received a text from him showing off his wall dedicated to film posters and asking whether it looked good. He was cute, endearingly so, you had to admit.

Seungmin looked forward to school these days, and he no longer pretended to read his chemistry book cover to cover, rather joining in on whatever small conversations that took place around him.

Blending in, he realised, was easier than he thought when he wasn't fretting over it. He didn't feel like a fish out of water, nor felt the burden of the spotlight anymore. He was just another student, someone who always came in first in the class, but otherwise he was a teenager who was interested in the new action movie that came out a few days ago just like his classmates.

He still teased you when you lost two marks on the test he had gotten a perfect score in, but it was no longer an obnoxious taunt and you no longer felt bad about it. He helped you solve them again, pointing out your mistakes so you didn't repeat them again later.

Whatever it was that you both had, whether it was the sharing a book in the library or passing notes with smiley faces in History classes just for the sake of staying up, or eating lunch together under the big tree outside the cafeteria, sharing a joke and laughing till your stomachs hurt; all of it felt so normal as if your rivalry hadn't existed in the first place.

Neither of you acknowledged it, but you both knew in the way you caught each other staring across the aisles in the library, or the small hearts doodled around the smiley faces in History that made you smile softly, or the way your hand lingered for more than a few seconds on his arms when you laughed at a bad joke as you doubled over in glee.

It was new, and quite a sight for people who knew about your long standing rivalry and definitely earned a scoff or two from Hyunjin, but even he had the best interests in his heart for you both.

You were both starting over, in a way that still has you apprehensive over what to expect but you were willing to figure it out along the way.

There was a new beginning at almost every corner, you just had to pick up the ends of the thread and follow them. There was no end to what you had right now, nor did you know what it was that you were supposed to look forward to, but you took another step every day in the hopes that somewhere along the line you'd finally figure out where you were headed.

Your worries were not your own to carry anymore, nor were your concerns your own to bear. Your apprehensions, albeit existing, didn't scare you as much as before.

You were in the middle of starting over, and it didn't seem so bad with the people who were with you every step, and it only made the journey worth it.

Sing To Me | Bang Chan

⥃Stray Kids Masterlist

ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 ➳ 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞! 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐗 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕣𝕖 ➳ 𝐌𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐑𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐲 𝐀𝐔, 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐀𝐔, 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟.

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥 ➳ 𝟗,𝟖𝟐𝟗 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬.

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 ➳ [𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐝𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝] 𝐔𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬, 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬, 𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬, 𝐠𝐮𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐬, 𝐯𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐲 𝐠𝐞𝐚𝐫, 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐬, 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 (?), 𝐯𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐯𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠.

𝕊𝕪𝕟𝕠𝕡𝕤𝕚𝕤 ➳ 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐰𝐬 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐬, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐬, 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟. 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥. 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐧𝐚𝐩 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐲? 𝐎𝐑 𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥.

ℝ𝕖𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕓𝕪 ➳ 𝐀𝐧𝐨𝐧.

Hi!!!! I just binged your whole master list and you are such a talented writer!! Can I request an enemies to lovers royalty au with crown prince! Chan and princess! Reader? Sorry if it’s a lot TT

𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥: @realbangchan @planetdemon @chanstresour

𝐈] 𝐈𝐫𝐨𝐧

Lush carpets patterned red and gold embellished the floor beneath their feet. Chandeliers made of fine glass, carved into the most ravishing shapes adorned the ceiling of the room, though left unused for months. The opulent room barely had any light radiating through it, more than half of most of the walls cold and shrouded in darkness.

Except for one spot, right in the middle of the room where sat a single chair with a candle stand perched beside it, a single flame dancing to the waves of drafts entering through the cracks of the doors and windows.

There, on the chair, sat a woman. A killer, a spy, an assassin.

The sharp clash of skin hitting skin resonated through the room followed by an unrestrained cry of pain.

"I won't ask again. Who are you and who do you work for?" The man bent over your tied up figure, intimidating eyes staring deep into your vulnerable ones.

"You can keep wasting your time but I will be of no use to you," You spat, smirking.

"Your death is imminent, girl, there's no point in keeping secrets anymore," The man barked, body flinging around so fast, the clinking medals and badges pinned on his chest threatened to fly off.

"You can hit me, you can kill me, but you won't have a shadow of a trace about me," You chuckled at his naivety.

Oh, not the naivety about the fact that he was aimlessly interrogating you.

The naivety about the fact that the head of the palace guard was dumb enough to keep a candlestand at arm's length to an assassin.

Before the balding man even knew what was going to hit him, your leg pushed the stand straight at him as his eyes shrouded themselves in panic, arms aimlessly reaching out to stop it from crashing onto him.

Oops, too late for that.

Your hands skillfully freed themselves from the flimsy knots of the jagged ropes they had tied onto you as you sprung up from the god-awfully uncomfortable chair and made a lunge for the blankets on the bed, the guard clearly still occupied by the puny stand.

He would be occupied for a long time considering he was almost on fire.

With one last glance at the man to check if he was still occupied, you bundled up the layers of blankets you had gathered and tied them to the most secure piece of furniture you could find, a heavy dresser, one you would be sure wouldn't move, let alone tip over the window during your escape.

Until you were done, the man had dealt with the fire, most of his white clothes now covered in ashes. Cracking his neck, he lunged at you in a heartbeat, but knowing the atypical move, you simply moved out of his way. Landing on the ground with a thump and a huff, he tried to get back up only to be held down by your leg on his back.

"Let's pretend you're still aimlessly interrogating me, shall we?" You smirked, simply knocking him out with one kick to the back of his head with your heavy black boots.

Now that your first problem was dealt with, it was time to get to the next, much harder step.

The hotel was covered with security on each and every inch of it, not one blind spot in the cameras nor one unfulfilled spot from the guards. As soon as you jumped down from the window, you would essentially be surrounded by enemies who wouldn't skip a heartbeat in lunging for you. Your best chance of escape would be to make a run for it as soon as you landed.

So that was what you considered to be your plan.

With one deep breath of preparation, your sweaty palms gripped the blanket and tugged it near the window. Popping it open wasn't too difficult, albeit the height it was situated in was.

It was on the sixteenth floor, not quite enough blankets to support your jump from.

Still, you held your breath and with one last look back at the trashed hotel room, you took your jump.

Rather than sliding through the blanket which gave the guards more time to spot you, you had been gripping right at the end of the rope of blankets, hoping they would be able to catch you midair and get you down at least halfway before you'd have to climb the rest of your way down.

With a claw-like grip on the soft material under your fingers, gravity propelled your body straight towards the ground, freezing cold air whizzing past your ears and hair whipping around your face wildly in a frenzy. With sharp eyes cast onto the ball of unfolding blankets, you held your breath until the last of it unwinded, hoping and praying your wrists would be able to take the sudden and heavy tug your body was going to apply on the blanket.

You were just a little too late to realise that they, in fact, weren't as strong as you had perceived them to be. Not after you had been starved for a week.

With a cry of shock, each of your fingertips left the cotton stuffed material until nothing was holding you in place. There was nothing around you but pure, freezing air and your most terrifying emotion, fear.

With widened eyes, you watched the blanket grow further and further away from you until you were sure the ground was right beneath you.

You went wrong with that prediction, however, because instead of your back meeting the cold, hard ground, it met with heavy painted metal and glass with a clang.

You had landed right on a car.

Your back had flared up with severe pain, travelling straight through every single neuron of your body, making you freeze for a solid minute as black spots littered your vision and deemed it entirely dysfunctional.

When you came back to your senses, it was already too late.

The owners of the car had already sprung out from under your weight and pulled out their guns, following the alerted guards by the side of the hotel.

It was just your luck to have fallen straight onto the very car belonging to the crown prince.

His rounded eyes stared deep into yours with confusion, and maybe you were just assuming things, but you thought that perhaps for a second, there was a smidge of concern shrouded in them.

The dimpled cheeks you had so mapped out from the pictures you had memorised were turned into a deep frown and his face overall, covered in wrinkles of hatred.

You had literally and figuratively landed yourself straight onto the crown prince, Bang Chan's hands, who in fact,

You were meant to kill.

𝐈𝐈] 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞

The trashed room was now reset to its original condition, blankets swapped within the matter of a few minutes and cold, dusty chandeliers finally lighting up the frigid, bleak room with some sort of visual warmth.

"Hyunjin, send the head of guards back to the palace. She's my responsibility now," Chan's authoritative voice rang out, alerting the raven-haired man as he pulled the frazzled general after him.

This was Chan's territory, and no one would think twice before following his orders.

He gazed at your vulnerable passed out figure on the bed where your delicate-looking wrists were now secured by two pairs of handcuffs to ensure further security and safety. You weren't stirring much except for the short breaths of unconscious pain that your aching, expanding chest managed to breathe out.

If Bang Chan hadn't seen the fall you had taken, he'd almost assume you were in a peaceful dream.

His gaze roamed over your seemingly-innocent looking face, landing on the unconscious little creases on your forehead, trailing down to your delicate, long eyelashes and smooth-crafted nose before finally landing on your supple cheeks that glowed pink with delirious pain. For a second, he hesitated to look at your lips before his dark orbs landed on them. Cracked and dry, your lips had thinned considerably from what he could observe, parted to allow short pants of hot breaths to leave through your mouth.

How did an angel like you turn into a bloodthirsty assassin?

He peeled his eyes away from you, now feeling embarrassed and ashamed for staring at you, prying his attention away from you and towards the window that overlooked the stunning view of his kingdom.

This was his kingdom, he thought to himself, as he looked at the gleaming cluster of lights illuminating the horizon with a hundred different colours. This was his kingdom, he thought to himself, as he gazed down at the people walking peacefully through the illuminated streets, smiling and greeting their fellow peers as they went about their jobs.

This was his kingdom, he thought to himself, and he swore to protect it from people like you.

His gaze hardened, stance growing rigid and hair standing on edge as he grabbed every slipping emotion and stored it back from the forgotten box they had escaped from.

A ruler has no time for emotions.

Two knocks simultaneously echoed from the doorframe of the open door.

"Hyunjin, you're back early," Chan rumbled as Hyunjin announced himself.

"Changbin said he'd take care of the head of the guards. He said he'd rather have me beside you when you're with a woman like her," Hyunjin responded, heavy boots making the floorboards creak as he entered the room.

"Very well then, what do you say?" Chan questioned, more cryptically than he'd originally intended to.

"Say about what?" Hyunjin repeated, puzzled.

"Her. What do you reckon we do?" Chan repeated again, this time elaborating a little more.

"Since she's under your supervision, why don't you decide? I'm sure you have a few ideas in mind. She hasn't responded well to our usual treatment, maybe you could come up with something new?" Hyunjin suggested, out of ideas.

"If you say so, I might try something new. I might need quite a lot of time though, how far are we with convincing Minho or father that we can't murder her yet?" Chan cringed at the thought of his passive-aggressive brother.

"I could try and buy us some time, a week at most, that is if she doesn't cause another incident. The kingdom's becoming wary of her presence. They want her done with soon, so we better be done with her soon too."

"That won't be a problem. Give me a week, I'll do this my way."

"Very well, we'll start tomorrow morning I presume?"

"We shall. I'll discuss the plan of action at the break of dawn, meet me back in the room."

"As you wish, Your Highness." Hyunjin bowed as Chan distractedly waved his hand in a flimsy attempt to dismiss him. Hyunjin chuckled inwardly at Chan's straying attention before leaving the room, heavy boots and clinking medals echoing through the bleak hallway.

Chan did have a vague idea of what he was going to do, and perhaps this idea was the breaking point when the whole kingdom would finally admit how truly insane he was, but it was the only way to test you before he'd dive further into opening you up, bit by bit.

As promised, Hyunjin's tired and loopy figure entered the red and gold-covered walls of the hotel, promptly walking into the musty room where he found Chan pacing about. You were still knocked out cold, unmoving except for your ragged breathing.

"Morning, Hyunjin." Chan nodded as he continued pacing, heavy boots muffled by the plush carpeting underneath his feet as he rubbed his palms together, deep in thought.

"Morning, Your Highness. What is our first destination today?" He greeted, monotonous almost due to the lack of sleep, evident by the bags showing underneath his dragon-fierce eyes.

"Meet me at the bridge behind the castle and bring a hefty amount of rope. I'll bring her with me," Chan commanded, not quite giving away his intentions yet in case Hyunjin were to intervene.

"As you wish, Your Highness, I'll keep everything prepared. Do you wish to have other people there as well?"

"No, keep this between the three of us unless I say otherwise. I'm afraid I would be... interrupted otherwise," Chan replied bitterly.

"Sure, Your Highness. I shall meet you soon." Hyunjin dismissed himself and left the room, leaving you and Chan alone.

As much as Chan preferred to see you knocked out and unable to cause any trouble, he had to get on with his plan and that required you to wake up.

He approached your sprawled out figure with heavy feet, yet gently so as to avoid startling you. The closer he got to touch you, the more his throat closed in on him, tightening until his chest barely expanded an inch. Breath hitching, he finally laid a gentle finger on the silky material of your clothed back, until finally, the entirety of his palm was pressing against it.

The added pressure on your already throbbing back was what finally brought you back into consciousness, head and heart pounding like a thousand drums had been set up in the same room and set to play in the same, repetitive rhythm.

Your eyes were the first to regain function as petite eyelids fluttered open, temporarily rendered sightless by the glinting yellow light that glowed throughout the room. As soon as your sight had adjusted, the first thing they landed upon was the piercing eyes of the crown prince himself.

Your first unconscious act of defence was to pass on a sarcastic remark but finding your ability of speech temporarily dysfunctional due to the dryness spread through your mouth and down to your throat, you were unable to utter a single syllable. You settled for an uncomfortable grunt that rattled through your whole body instead.

Chan, realising the state you had succumbed to, took off from the seat he had taken on the chair and strode towards the table at the far corner of the room that was laid with various prized drinks, including water. In the flash of a second, he was back beside you, uncapping the bottle that had formed a small sheen of condensation.

You had expected him to tease you with it, maybe even refuse to let you drink it until you'd promised you'd answer all of his questions in return for a drink. What you hadn't expected, however, was a gentle hand to reach over and cup your upper back, bringing you closer so you could easily attach your parched lips to the edge of the opening.

That gesture itself was enough to make you choke on the water, but you figured you'd rather not waste the little amount of 'kindness' you were receiving by wracking your body with unnecessary cough and pain.

The drink was like a piece of heaven entering your body after spending an eternity in hell. The cold water swept through your parched tongue and refreshed you to no end. Your headache too, felt like it was being swept away by a cold wave. You had consumed almost half the bottle before Chan withdrew it from your lips.

Smacking your lips and flexing your jaw to make sure you were in the full ability to speak again, you looked dead in the eyes of the crown prince before a snark remark tumbled out your tongue.

"Care to withdraw your 'hand of kindness', Your Highness? My back isn't quite comfortable considering I almost fell right through the roof of your car. You should add some padding on there, someone could've severely injured themselves on that."

He shrugged and replied, "What can I say, we don't have assassins escaping the sixteenth floor of a completely secured hotel every day, miss."

In contrast to his reply, he rapidly withdrew his burning hand, almost as if he'd touched something he'd been forbidden to for all his life.

"Yet I see it a miracle your head wasn't bashed in when I fell on the roof. No wonder everyone calls you 'fun sized', you'd probably fit under the seat of your car quite easily." You clicked your tongue to avoid forming a smirk.

Unfortunately, Chan didn't have a witty enough reply to dodge the factually correct statement and resorted to changing the topic instead.

"Say, miss assassin, would you like to play a game with me?"

"Ah, I love games, except for the fact that there's always an underlying threat in them. So tell me, Your Highness, what's in it for me?" You mused.

"That's the beauty of this game miss. A condition neither I nor you could give up on."

"Continue,"

"A bet on the things we hold most precious to ourselves, which also seem to be the things we want from the other the most."

He paused for a split second, firey eyes delving deep into yours in a battle for insight.

"My life, to your intelligence." He finally concluded, leaning back on the wooden chair.

"You're mental, you realise that right?" You chuckle at his indifference.

"I've heard that remark quite a lot, and I'd deem it somewhat true," He smiled, a genuine smile that stretched deep into the wrinkles into his eyes, finally bringing to light the deep craters engraved into his moonlit-like glowing skin.

"How do I know you won't be cheating?" You refuted in amusement and slight concern for his mental health.

"That, you shall find out in a minute. First, let's make sure you're getting some form of fair-play, shall we?" He remarked, pulling out a stout, labelled glass bottle from his pocket. One look at the label let you know it was nothing but an ordinary bottle containing painkillers. Still, you were wary.

"How do I know you've not switched the pills in there into something more... dangerous?" You questioned, mind now slowly switching to high alert.

"Ever heard of a seal? See this little ring here? You believe me now?" He raised his eyebrows in a teasing way almost, as he pointed at the cap of the bottle, where indeed, you noticed that the seal looked completely locked in making the bottle look like it was straight from the factory.

"Fine, Your Highness, let's keep this fair and square then." You finally relented as he cracked open the seal and shook out a single pill before popping it into your mouth and making you swallow it with the remaining water.

"Now, what's the game?" You got straight down to business.

"Let's get you up and running. It's a long walk and I'm sure you'll need the warm-up." He smirked before uncuffing you and cuffing you back onto his arms again in a split second.

The more you spent time with him, the weirder Bang Chan seemed to get.

𝐈𝐈𝐈] 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡

"You know, you're really off guard for a crown prince who's literally handcuffed to his assassin," You pointed out as you looked him over, taken aback by his laid back attitude.

"What can I say, I've never met my assassins in person before, except once when they entered my bedroom at the dead of the night," Chan recalled, swinging his arms merrily.

"Let me guess, you handcuffed them in your bedroom too," You joked, an involuntary smile gracing your face for a split second.

"Well, not exactly," He shrugged, cringing. You could even see his ears turning red out of the corner of your eyes.

So he was the shy type, huh?

Your playful banter, however, was cut short with the sound of rapid running water. The sound was like thunder to your ears, loud and repetitive as viciously rapid water crashed onto the rocks blocking their way.

Chan spotted the familiar bridge, and if he squinted, he could even see Hyunjin's tired figure leaning onto the protective railings as he stared deeply into rough rapids below.

It didn't take them long to reach the bridge, and only when they did, they realised that Hyunjin wasn't actually staring into the rapids in deep thought,

He was almost sound asleep in quite a dangerous position.

Chan cleared his throat before adding on an authoritative voice and commanding him, "Hyunjin, wake up, you're about to have a dangerous fall if you lean any closer to the safety bars,"

Now startled awake, Hyunjin scrambled to make himself look decent before nodding in acknowledgement.

"How about you go get some rest, Hyunjin? I can handle this myself," Chan suggested, eyeing his droopy figure.

"I'll be just fine, Your Highness. I'm afraid I would be unable to leave you alone with our... guest," He passed a fierce glare at you before facing Chan again.

"Very well, if you say otherwise, we shall start now." Chan sounded, pulling you along with him towards the ropes, Hyunjin trailing you warily.

"Our game, miss assassin, is a truly simple one. We hang ourselves down this bridge and the one who survives longest without asking to be pulled up wins. The first one to pull themselves up would come to condition with what the other wants. In my case, you will tell me the precious intelligence you hold hostage and in your case, I shall gladly hand you my life," He explained, face grim and earnest.

"What about fair-play rules, Your Highness?" You cocked your head, expecting more.

"Both of us will tie the ropes on ourselves to avoid any... accidents. In fact, I will let you get the first pick on the ropes so as to avoid any suspicion. Instead, I would also ask you not to run away when I uncuff you. That would cause quite a lot of problems." He concluded, bringing the glinting key of the handcuff out of his pocket.

"Deal, Your Highness. May the strongest one win," You fell into his trap quite easily.

"Indeed-" He started keying at the handcuff, unlocking them from your reddened, sore wrists with one smooth click and nodded towards the ropes, "-take your pick, miss."

Testing the durability and the material of the rope, they were both indeed, truly identical. You made sure to check every square inch of it for something out of order, but nothing stood out to you after all. Sighing, you simply picked the one your hand was laying on and nodded at Chan to pick up his rope.

If this was as fair and square as Chan was implying it to be, he truly did have a death wish.

In Chan's perspective, however, he seemed to think that a game that was perfectly fair and true to its essence was all he needed to prove his point.

"Chan, are you sure this is the best idea? I'm sure you can last quite long but I don't trust her to hang there without any tricks up her sleeve," Hyunjin voiced his concern, unintentionally addressing him informally.

"Trust me Hyunjin. I'll be able to prove a point by the end of this," Chan nodded, reassuring him as he fastened multiple knots of the jagged and rough rope onto his legs.

Turning towards the rapids, Chan closed his eyes and inhaled a deep bout of fresh air, nostrils twitching with the smell of damp earth and mineral-enriched water. His body felt calm, numb even.

He looked over at you to confirm if you had finished securing the knots onto your feet and nodded once gesturing you to tie the other side of the rope to the metal bars of the bridge.

Alas, it wasn't you who needed a trick up his sleeve, it was him.

Feeling through the smooth surface of the metal bars, Chan's rough hands felt through the cold damp metal as he walked forward, reaching and reaching until his fingers finally bumped into the spot he was looking for.

Here he felt the rather unfinished business of the bridge constructors as he ran his fingers over the jagged, sharp and rather dangerous section of metal, located almost right beneath the bar as if purposely hidden from someone who didn't seek to feel for it.

Smiling, he secured the rope right on the spot, swinging it left and right so as to fray a few strong strands of the heavy jute even before he made the leap into the rapids.

They were right, maybe he did have a death wish, but whether or not it really came true, that depended on you.

Signalling the start of the competition, both the crown prince and the assassin took their places, half their feet balanced onto the metal bars in an unstable manner. They turned to each other right the second before it began, fierce, competitive and challenging gazes locked onto each other as Hyunjin gave the final holler and both of them let go at the same time.

They felt the cold, moisture-laden air whip through their faces. They felt the tiny droplets of water grow larger and larger before there was a steady spray of fresh water on their determined features. They felt their adrenaline rush wild through their blood as if the very rapids were flowing through their veins like a storm. The ropes unwinded and kept unwinding, until finally, with a huge clang and a tug to the whole bridge itself, they came to a standstill together, save for the delicate swinging as their bodies propelled them, forward and backward like a pendulum.

Blood rushed to their heads at once, making them hold their breaths immediately to help them adjust to the sudden change. Dizziness rang through their brains and their faces turned from pale to a deep scarlet, but neither made a noise indicating so.

The more the rope stopped swinging to bring them to a standstill, the more their fear dissipated from their body. The worst had passed, now, it was just a long waiting game.

Or so you thought.

Chan wiggled around to face your stone-faced form, finding it rather funny at the sight of your reddened face just hanging, gaze directed straightforward as you glared at the rapids.

Before he could stifle it, he burst out laughing which in turn, shook his body along with the rope.

"What's so funny?" You forced out, tongue at an uncomfortable position due to the sudden change of your whole world turning upside down. Literally.

"I find your red-faced demeanour quite funny, I'd love for every one of my assassins to look that way," He smiled, but it came out rather awkwardly.

"Ha-ha sure. You're not looking too ravishing either, Your Highness. Is that a double chin I see? You look like a rather bloated tomato," You teased, eyeing his equally reddened figure. You were astonished when his face turned even redder, something you thought impossible a moment ago.

The two hung in silence for a few long moments, basking in the thunderous noise of the river before your tongue slipped out of control with a particular question that had been plaguing your mind.

"Say, Your Highness, you're literally hanging at the brink of death. I know you're confident and you have quite an inflated ego but give me one honest statement, aren't you afraid of what would happen if you lost right this moment?"

"Can't say, miss assassin. How did you feel when you came to this kingdom, risking your whole life to spy on me and kill me only to be caught by the guards with the slip of a single finger? Surely you would've felt at some moment that your time had ended?"

"We're not that different from each other at all, you see. We live our lives in constant danger of being killed, dodging and avoiding any chance of a relationship that threatens to crumble us from the inside and swerving bullets to serve people we hardly know. We're pawns on a board ready to be sacrificed at any point in time for the sake of a superior. We were made to die in the first place." He finished, a grim yet soft expression splayed on his face.

You had expected him to boost his ego, you had expected him to give you a witty or a rather diplomatic answer. Hell, you even expected him to brush off the question and avoid talking at all, but the answer you had prepared for was all but that which you had heard.

The more you got to know your enemy, the more you seemed to fall into the deepest pits of understanding, unable to crawl back up.

Chan watched your stunned form for a few minutes, contemplating if his words had really done the trick but sighed dejectedly when your face turned to stone again, gaze hazy and distant.

Enough waiting. He was going to take this into his own hands, or rather, his own life.

He eyed the rope tied to the bar, squinting to notice that half the rope had already been chewed away by the jagged metal, frayed and crumpled. With a leap of courage, he swung his body weight until the entire rope swung him forward and backwards as if he truly was in a swing. His heart throbbed in his ears, pulse erratic as he watched each strand fray, one by one. At the last two strands, he locked eyes with you and hollered.

"Hey, miss assassin, it's been a good game,"

"Giving up already, Your Highness?" You retorted as he gained your attention.

"Not really, looks like someone wants me up there a little early," He feigned distress.

You were clueless for a second, mind running wild at his cryptic statement before your eyes landed on the rope holding him up.

The last strand gave out.

For a terrifying moment, Chan was free falling again, his body growing closer and closer to the thunderous rapids until he was almost faced with the uneven rocks that jutted out of the water.

His propelling body came to a stop with a huge tug.

You strained, teeth-gritting as your sweaty palms threatened to give out under the enormous pressure of the heavy rope, drawing every inch of strength from your body to pull the frayed rope up as much as you could.

Chan smiled, heart thudding straight through his ribcage. You'd passed the test, just as he'd expected.

After all, it wasn't a contest to lay down their lives for royal hunger.

It was a test to know just how trustworthy you were, and you'd clearly passed with flying colours.

If your first instinct came to gripping the rope to prevent the very man you were sent to kill, from dying, you were clearly incapable of doing the job. It showed that it was your first time on it after all.

"You know, it would be great if your assistant helped us out right now. I've been starved for a week and I'm afraid my noodle arms won't last quite long!" You hollered from somewhere above him, voice clearly straining.

"Good idea! Hyunjin! Help!" Chan hollered back as loud as he could, but he got no response from him.

"Is he asleep?!" You exclaimed in horror as the raven-haired man failed to make an appearance.

"Can you try and hold on with your noodle arms for a few more minutes, I'm going to try and wake him up," Chan communicated, worried that his plan wasn't exactly going as planned.

"My noodle arms could hold but I'm afraid your sorry excuse of a rope isn't going to!" You exclaimed back as you eyed the loosening rope from the bridge.

"How much time do we have?" Chan panicked.

"I'd say just about a few minutes,"

Chan's mind scrambled for a proper solution. It would be near impossible to lay their lives on Hyunjin and trusting him to wake up before the rope gives away and you sure as hell wouldn't last long with his weight either. The cogs in his mind spun as water splashed straight on his face.

That's it! He could use the rapids themselves!

"Alright miss assassin, can you do me a favour and let go of my rope?"

"Are you mental?! Are you just asking to die after I saved your life just because you don't have a solution for one single situation?!" You screeched. Chan cringed at the misunderstanding and tried again.

"I meant to say, gently lower the rope until I reach close enough to the rapids. When I tell you to let go, leave the rope. I'll get myself down before I figure out a way to get you down," He explained again, half his voice almost drowned by the rapids.

"How do I know you won't leave me to die after I let you down?!"

"Lady you just saved my life! Do you think I'd simply walk away knowing that?!" Chan urged, voice getting desperate.

"Alright, alright! Don't call me lady old man," You mumbled the last part, almost glad you were out of earshot.

Finally heeding his plan, you gently lowered the rope one inch at a time as Chan descended lower and lower until he was sure he would be able to balance himself on the rapids without falling over or injuring himself. Once he hollered at you to let go of the rope, you watched the yellow-brown length fall straight into the rapids, floating away as soon as Chan untied his legs.

The real problem was how Chan would be able to take you down before the rope gave out on you.

He eyed your hanging figure as you now lifted yourself back up, head up and legs down, yet in an awkward position as if you were sitting on a swing.

"Uh... Your Highness?! How long am I supposed to be doing acrobatics up here?!" Your voice rang out, alarmed at the fast rate of the slipping rope.

Panicking, Chan scanned his surroundings for something, anything he could use to figure out a way to help you, and the solution graced him when his eyes landed on a particularly dense branch of a tree that had been cut down to construct a woodshed.

His drenched form skipped through the larger rocks of the rapids and out of the river into the bank, leaving a heavy trail of water as his weighed down body struggled to run fast enough towards the branch.

Meanwhile, you were thrown into further panic as you watched your only chance of survival run straight towards the riverbank. Cursing your destiny, you tugged at the rope in an attempt to check if it was stable enough for you to climb back up towards the bridge, but rather than brightening your hopes of survival, it seemed to give out further as it gave a terrifying tug and slipped down a few inches.

Chan added every inch of strength and adrenaline into his arms as he attempted to drag the dense branch all the way back into the river, right under the spot you were hanging over before giving his leg a proper footing and calling out for you.

"I know it's a little too early for this, but do you trust me?"

"You think anything at this moment in time is early? I'd rather say it's a bit too late,"

"Don't avoid the question! Do you trust me?"

Did you? You were sent to kill him. His whole kingdom is out for blood against you. You'd almost died twice while trying to escape said-god-forsaken-kingdom yet you'd always end up landing back here. Sure, he'd (indirectly) saved you from the nasty fall during your last escape. Hell, he'd even nursed you back to health and gave you another chance at his own life. After all that, did you trust him?

Unfortunately, you didn't seem to have enough time to answer his question.

The rope unwinded from the metal bars.

For the second time that week, you were propelling straight towards death, unbounded and every muscle clenched tight in sheer terror that this would be your final moment.

But you didn't fall into the hardened, structured rocks of mother earth. You weren't swept away by the thunderous current of the enormous rapids.

Yet again, you had fallen right into the crown prince's arms.

Chan let out a loud groan underneath you as his warm body pressed against yours, radiating heat despite the freezing cold water that had soaked him from head to toe.

"I guess I had to see that coming considering you weren't going to let your back go unavenged," He strained from underneath you, having taken in most of your impact, thankfully absorbed not by the sedimented rocks but rather the soft, dense leaves of the branch.

"My back seems to have taken the chance to avenge you but you're going to wait for a chance to avenge my head next," You groaned at the continuous hum of throbbing that ripped through your entire body again.

"What exactly is that supposed to indicate?" He huffed as he attempted to push you off, going still when he realised your body was as stiff as a stone.

"That I'm no longer about to be conscious," You uttered one last phrase before your body switched into autopilot, mind shutting off into an abyss.

Chan's eyes grew wide as soon as you fell limp in his arms, your body almost icy to the touch compared to his own relatively warm fingers.

Looks like he's about to have another long night.

𝐈𝐕] 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐨 𝐌𝐞

After getting you checked over by the resident doctor in the palace, he was certain you wouldn't be waking up anytime soon. He'd reported that you had severe weakness due to starvation and couple that with the amount of time you had spent in the rapids, you were practically burning up with a fever. Your back wasn't in the best condition either, and all the stress seemed to have flared up the headache you'd mentioned earlier.

It was safe to say that your stay in his kingdom had extended itself.

Meanwhile, Minho had caught wind of the incident that had gone down at the bridge along with the video footage, meaning Chan had to try and avoid him at all costs before he got a taste of his brother's orthodox lectures.

That successively led him into being sort of a permanent guest in your hotel room including long, sleepless nights like tonight, when he knew Minho was out and about somewhere in the castle.

He leaned back into the sofa as he rubbed his tired eyes, turning his gaze away from the laptop where the glow of his emails and about a thousand notifications had blinded him for the last two successive hours. He shut his swollen and rather reddened eyes, hoping for just a minute worth of a break, interrupted rather suddenly when his starry orbs flew open at the sound of a strange mumbling spilling through your lips. Unable to decipher the low-spoken words from a distance, he inched closer to you until he rested himself on the chair situated beside you.

He noticed that you were still in a delirious-feverish state, meaning you weren't conscious of your mumbling at all. Frowning, he strained to understand what you were mumbling until after a whole minute, he came to a realisation.

You were reciting some kind of poem.

"Sing to me,

Oh, king and queen of esteemed glory

Sing to me,

The hidden tale of your royalty.

The mystery of a missing kin

Born into royal skin,

Yet thrown away to vermin.

The child that borne the sin

Of growing up a heartless assassin.

Sing to me,

Oh, king and queen of esteemed glory

Sing to me,

The hidden tale of your royalty.

The innocent kin that bore the label of an outcast

What did you find in her so ghast,

To send her life to devast?

What spell did she so cast,

That left her innocence forepassed?

Sing to me,

Oh, king and queen of esteemed glory

Sing to me,

The hidden tale of your royalty."

Chan's tired pupils expanded in shock as you continued chanting the poem over and over. It didn't take a genius to decipher the poem and sure enough, even a little amount spent with you was enough to connect the dots.

You were a Princess.

His mind scrambled as he looked at you over again and again until realisation hit him.

The familiar face, the signature mole at the back of your neck, your startlingly sharp features.

How did they not know the Princess of the very kingdom they were on the verge of a war with was inside their castle?

If the palace guard got hold of this information including the fact that you were sent to kill him, it would be certain evidence of a kingdom attempting to wage war against theirs.

However, if they get a hold of this information, you would be killed.

A warm feeling seeped through Chan, was it relief or denial, he knew not. He looked at your figure once again and contemplated what he had to do next.

Would he really sacrifice you for the sake of his kingdom, or would he rather watch his kingdom crumble as he guided you through the back door?

𝐕] 𝐇𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

When you had awoken, you had found yourself to be in the same room, albeit empty. There was a tray of food resting on the bedside table and the window was boarded up, unable to indicate exactly what time it was.

After you had treated yourself with the food, you pounded down on the door, demanding to know something, anything, but the guards were relentless, keen on keeping everything under wraps.

All you had managed to find out was that a week had passed.

A week since you'd accepted a bet with the crown prince, a week since you saved the person you had been sent to kill, a week since the crown prince saved his assassin's life and a week since you had collapsed, trapped in a room to heal yourself.

True to that, your body did feel well-rested and most of your back pain had dissipated, You guessed there would only be a few bruises left to heal.

But where was Chan?

As if on queue with your thoughts, there was a flurry of movement breaking outside your room before the door busted open, revealing a suspiciously cheerful Chan.

"Miss assassin! I see you've finally awoken. Unfortunately, I'm not letting you spend too long mulling over your defeat, we've got places to be." He whipped his hand out, strong and buff arms wrapping around you securely as he pulled you close and dragged you behind him.

You had to admit, you almost kicked him out of pure reflex before, for a fleeting second, his eyes met yours. The same ones that stared deep into your soul as he saved your life from a terrifying fall, the same ones that were able to decrypt every code of the emotions you were sure you had encrypted into a locker in your mind.

They held one single emotion, trust.

And so you did. You trusted him as he whipped you away in front of the countless guards that lined the hallways of the dark hotel. You trusted him as he beckoned you into his car without a word. You trusted him as he drove and drove, right until you were face-to-face with the stone-walled castle itself. You trusted him as he continued to guide you further and further into the grounds you were forbidden in, into the grounds where you were sure to have been granted death as soon as your feet touched down.

Further and further until they reached a wall at the furthest point of the castle where you were sure there was no other way they could possibly go.

Until Chan whipped out what seemed like a remote, and with one simple click, what you had assumed to be the carpeted floor had slid over to reveal a hidden stone-laid staircase.

Chan's expression remained stone-faced right until they had taken the last step into what you sensed would be a dungeon before he released a sigh. In the dark, you heard him clicking yet another button on the remote before an electrical buzz lit up the whole underground room.

It was a garden.

Straight out of a cliche movie, the ground was lined with freshly watered grass, soft to the soles of your feet and fresh to smell. Along the sides were countless rows of whole different varieties of flowers with colours ranging from every primary colour on the colour wheel to hues you'd never thought to lay eyes upon. In the centre lay a single wooden bench.

"Nice, isn't it? I'm not much for flowers myself but my mom left it in my possession before she disappeared," He voiced as his gaze lingered at every variety of flora he could see.

"Disappeared?"

"Interesting isn't it, our similarities? So different yet line up perfectly. You're a princess from a family that abandoned you, I'm a prince from a mother that abandoned me and a father who was too loving for his own good,"

"How did you-"

"I heard the poem. Sing To Me, is it? Pretty creative,"

"I've heard the story too. About a brother who laid down his life in exchange for his brother's,"

"Never really understood why he did it. He never really loved his brother, you see. Always complaining about him, always nagging at him. I never really knew he was so fond of him to the point where he'd lay his life down for his future highness," He seethed, fists tightening along his sides.

"I'm sorry,"

"Doesn't matter, we've got worse to worry about than the past," He rubbed his face, turning red. Now in a different light, you could see how exhausted he'd become. Heavy bags lay under his eyes, usually plump cheeks almost sagging and worry lines permanently etched onto his face.

He looked like a complete wreck.

For a moment, your wrist sagged, heavy as your arm lifted halfway towards his face. Involuntarily, your hand inched toward his tired figure, fingers curling from what you were about to do.

Then it hit you, as sudden as a train wreck, you attempted to pull your hand back but Chan's calloused ones grabbed your wrist and pulled,

Keeping your cold hands directly on his burning hot and tired face.

He sighed as his dough-soft skin rubbed onto your hand, wrist bent in an awkward angle as he leaned the weight of his whole head on yours.

You'd never managed to have a serious talk with him before, but now that you finally were, why was your heart racing?

"You need to get out of here," He sighed, opening his starry eyes to observe yours.

"I know I don't have much time, but something's asking me to stay," You hesitated.

Why were you hesitant? Why were you hesitant when the very person you had been sent to kill was right in front of you with his guard down? Why were you hesitant when you had a clear chance to get as far away from this kingdom as you could?

Why was your brain second-guessing your heart?

"I would. I would ask you to stay if only it didn't mean laying down your life,"

His eyes reflected the truth and only the truth.

"Then why don't you? Why don't you kill me?"

"The same reason you refuse to kill me."

Somehow, somewhere deep inside, you knew the reason and though you hated to admit it, it hurt. It hurt deep inside your veins, it hurt deep inside your bones and it hurt deep inside your heart. It tore you apart like a bullet, ripping you straight through, leaving a gaping, bleeding hole.

Somewhere along the little garden, a sensor lit up with a beep before an electronic buzz sounded, waking up the sprinklers spread across various sites. The garden came alive as supple beads of water flew down, covering both of them.

"I'm going to get you out of here, so promise me. Promise me you'll make it out alive. Promise me you'll go back to your kingdom and fight for your right and promise me you will never return to this kingdom unless you come here as a princess and not as an outcast." His tone was desperate, hurried almost as he cupped your face and looked you in the eye.

"I can't say that-"

"No, please don't. Please don't," What he was pleading for, you knew not. You didn't know if he was pleading for you not to leave, or leave at this instant. You didn't know if he was pleading for you to be safe, or for you to try and be optimistic. All you knew, was that you needed to agree.

And so you did.

Your head moved to a nod, once, twice and thrice.

Chan broke out into a smile, but it wasn't the genuine one he had offered you the week before. It was something that portrayed his final emotions before their last farewell.

There was happiness in his face, but sadness in his heart.

"Stay here, and get ready. As soon as I get back, I'm getting you out of here." He ordered as his warm hands on your cheeks retreated, leaving them cold and lifeless.

Then he was gone.

𝐕𝐈] 𝐋𝐢𝐚𝐫

Chan took a deep breath and lay completely still inside the dark room, not daring to move to avoid the metal from clinking. With a racing heart, he lay waiting.

He heard a commotion coming down the hallway, nearer and nearer until they were right outside his bedroom door.

Then, he started to struggle against his restraints. He struggled as if his kingdom depended on it. He struggled as if his life depended on it. He struggled as if your life depended on it.

The door flew open and the room lit up with an electrical buzz, but that didn't stop him from screaming on top of his lungs into the bundle of handkerchiefs tied around his mouth, practically scraping through his throat.

His muffled screams and clinking restraints were all that was needed to send Hyunjin into a flurry of panic.

He leaned over the crown prince and untied the handkerchief as Chan feigned a huge breath of air before mimicking Hyunjin's panic, taking in big gasps to make it seem real.

"There's an assassin in the castle! They're heading for my father!" He exclaimed.

"The girl? She's locked in the hotel, unconscious." Hyunjin questioned.

"Not the girl, there's another one. A man. He locked me up and told me he was going straight for my father," He lied through his teeth.

If it was possible, Hyunjin grew even paler.

"Stay put, I'll get someone to help you. I need to go warn the palace guard. Our radio systems are down and we'll have to go on manual lockdown. I'll get you out of here soon, Your Highness,"

Of course, their radio systems were down, it was Chan's work after all.

"It's okay, I can handle myself, just save my father." He convinced Hyunjin desperately.

If he could even use that title for the man.

Hyunjin scrambled out of the room in a flash, leaving the vulnerable, tied up Crown Prince behind.

What Hyunjin had failed to notice was how the restraints were barely properly clipped onto his wrists, falling down with a simple shake. What he had failed to notice were that the restraints were easily obtainable from the dungeons that they had so conveniently left unguarded due to the lack of guests.

Chan was capable of lying after all.

Hurrying, he freed himself and stumbled out of the room. His hunch had been correct, Hyunjin had taken all the surrounding guards with him. Bolting straight through multiple rooms, he set a map with pre-marked locations in his mind, marking off unwanted rooms as he skipped through the unnecessarily large castle. His feet pounded down on the hardwood floor, but he didn't care about palace etiquettes anymore. There was no one to stop him and say otherwise anyway.

He staggered into the room he had been aiming for, immediately scrambling to search for an object. Glinting silver incapacitated his vision and distracted his racing mind as he struggled to stay focused and find the object until he spotted it sitting idle inside a framed glass box. He swiped it off and in one swift motion of tucking it into his waistband, he was running off again.

𝐕𝐈𝐈] 𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐕𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬

When the electric buzz of the fake carpet sliding away had finally sounded, your dazed mind snapped out immediately. You didn't go into a defensive posture, nor did you make a move to hide from a potential ambush because, for all you knew, you trusted Chan, and you trusted that only he had the key to this garden.

You were right nevertheless.

He stumbled down the stairs, barely missing his shoulder to a massive crash to the opposite wall before he bounded towards you, panting hard as his face turned beet-red.

"Hey, hey, hey, breathe my guy, you're gonna collapse!" You exclaimed as you barely caught his haphazard frame from tripping on his own shoes.

"We don't have time to breathe," He panted before continuing, "I've managed to make a distraction but it won't last long. This is our only shot."

"Fine, what's the plan?"

"Just follow me, I know a way out of the castle that curves into the market. From there, you'll have to make it out on your own."

"I have a route. I was supposed to take it originally after I-" You stopped abruptly, but Chan knew just what you meant.

"After you'd killed me," He finished.

"Yeah... that,"

"Alright, I'll help you get out, come on." He pulled on your sleeve, but you stumbled back, hesitating.

"What's wrong?" Chan questioned.

"You can't."

"What do you mean I can't?" His face distorted into pure confusion.

"If you're spotted helping me escape they won't spare you. They'll kill you, Chan!" You exclaimed, dread settling deep into your veins.

"To hell, if I die in their hands, but I'm not letting you die here. You're leaving and I'm taking you." He argued hurriedly, still pulling you.

"Chan, stop, please. You can't do this," You begged, desperation set in.

"Listen, whether I take you or not, you disappear into the void on the very night I bumble about a false attack on the king. Whether I take you or not, I'm the boy who cried wolf and I will still take partial blame for your escape. I have no way out of this and if we don't get a move on now, you won't either, you understand?"

"Chan-"

"Do you understand?" He shook your shoulder, but you didn't miss his trembling hands either.

"I understand." You submitted.

"Very well. Here, take this." His eyes flashed with what you guessed was forgetfulness before he pulled something out of his waistband, metal clinking in his palm.

Your knives.

Perfectly crafted for your very hands, the glinting silver was kept polished and stainless as if it had never seen a drop of blood. They were your addiction, an object you refused to keep away from you at all costs. Engraved with patterns from your own hands while they numbed from the bleeding the sharp piece of metal you had used, you had handcrafted them like your own treasure. You had sharpened the zig-zag patterned blade yourself until it would pierce into the finest pieces of glass and wood.

The three weapons lay free on Chan's palm, ready for you to embrace as if they were long lost kin.

You grabbed them from him, immediately stowing them into your waist belt.

Nodding, you signalled Chan to guide you out.

There they ran, two fugitives into the dawn, hand-in-hand as their fingers embraced each other for the last time. There ran you and Chan, hopelessly tied down by love, pulled away by power. There ran the Crown Prince and his Assassin Princess, indulging in what was their first and last, Violent Delight.

The tunnel they ran through curved and bent endlessly, each moment of the ticking clock making their hearts race and pound inside their ribcage, each silent thump sounding like an accelerated gunshot and each moment they looked at each other as their last.

Finally, they reached the end of the tunnel as cold drafts drifted in and hot breaths of dread scattered out.

They didn't know what was out there waiting for them, but all they knew was that they were to keep their promises, no matter what cost them.

With one last look into each other's eyes, their adrenaline-filled bodies bid goodbye.

As the assassin emerged and blended into the market, the royal marksmen cocked their guns out of its safety. As the earliest of the vendors propped up their carts and uncovered their loads, the marksmen sharpened their sights and aimed at the woman. As the sunlight bled through the horizon, Chan cocked the safety of his own gun and aimed high and targeted the one closest to her.

Then, he pulled the trigger.

All hell broke loose. Vendors scrambled away from the terrifyingly loud noise. The assassin scrambled away in alarm, fast pace turning into a jog. The crown prince's ears rang with a thousand emotions. The marksmen swerved to find their newest target as they watched their comrade take a deadly fall from the room.

As the world stirred to a rise, several shots rang from both sides. The royals twisted into confusion as they watched their Crown Prince shoot down not his assassin, but his own marksmen. The civilians watched as they waged war on each other, all while their enemy escaped through the back door.

It didn't take the marksmen long to realise that their own Crown Prince had turned away from them at the word of a heartless assassin, yet they had no choice but to eliminate him, for the sake of the kingdom.

The assassin watched, watched as the one she was supposed to kill was ambushed by his own kingdom. Watched as fate took her unfinished job into its own hands and strangled her into submission, moment by moment.

She watched as a final bullet rang out as soon as the very first golden ray of sun illuminated the earth.

Watched, as a spot of red spread through the Crown Prince's abdomen, blooming as if a beautiful yet deadly flower had finally decided to grace their eyes.

She couldn't scream, she couldn't turn around and run, she couldn't fight back for him, she couldn't hold his hand.

All she could do was walk away.

Perhaps, fate had finally completed the work she had defied it to do, or perhaps it was a cruel twist, a cruel sign that meant that they would meet only sometime later, someplace else.

Where? She knew not.

All she knew was that,

These Violent Delights have Violent Ends.

© starchxn 2021. do not repost, modify, or translate.