Nora12379 - Budding Writer

Ok. So, of course, everyone is upset because Ruby is gone. If you don't know, dollyyun, the beloved writer of dkp, one of the girls, and many other beautiful fictions, has deactivated.

What I want to know is... which one of you weirdos made a bully account? Those accounts you guys make are literally the product of a deranged mind. The things that were said on said account, which I will not tag—mainly because I get enraged by stupid shit—because whoever it is will attack me.

That's the cycle. You get attacked by them, their friends, and God people who just want so much to be apart of something or who literally have nothing going on in their life that gives them satisfaction.

So they come to Tumblr. I remember I was attacked for defending someone who wrote Ni-Ki fics and also defended people who were defending them in turn, and I deactivated my old account. Needless to say... don't let them win.

Usually, these accounts, these happenings or witch hunts, are because you've offended someone that is offended by literally anything. No their not serious. They probably have untreated mental issues and no way of how to cope positively. Therefore, (this is really getting tiring to say) they use the internet to cope with being neglected by family, strict upbringing, no hometraining, etc. And there's a slim chance that they might be spoiled brats; but I digress.

Don't expect mercy nor for them to feel sorry. So here is some advice to help with trolls like these.

Don't engage with anyone in your ask box who attacks you. Delete the ask, block the user. It's that simple.

Be careful... don't disrespect or hurt anyone only to not apologize. Nowadays, people are way too sensitive. If you got nothing nice, respectful, and/or good to say, please for the love of God, and in the words of Silk Sonic, "shut yo trap".

HANDLE YOUR DRAMA OFF TUMBLR!!! Seriously. We do not want to see it, nor do we—the ones who want peace—want to be a part of it. Unless multiple people are involved, there should be no more than 2 people only involved in a beef. I know, they're your friends, but come on... don't be lemmings.

Last one. Be your own advocate!! This ties in to the previous tip. Fight for yourself!!! Don't include others in your beef just to have a point, especially if you are actually being attacked because you blatantly offended someone according to race, religion, creed, orientation, etc. In other words, don't invite people to be an asshole with you; if they're really your friends, why would you pull them into your toxicity?

Well, that is all I have to say. I will be tagging anything Ruby related as #dollyyun come back. Show her how much you care, show her she is not alone. Report the bullies. Don't engage them! Keep your peace isolated and handle things discreetly. Don't tell anyone what you do until you're sure they need to know or if you can trust them.

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Epilogue: Dear Lord When I Get To Heaven Please Let Me Bring My Man (p. sh, l. hs)

banner credit: @simpjaes🩷

pairing. step-brother sunghoon x female reader x step-brother heeseung

genre. I Would Give Up Heaven If I Had To.. AU, pwp, M/F, heavy on the angst in this one, fluff💀

warnings. morally grey characterizations(mostly Sunghoon), profanity, toxicity, sibling rivalry, mommy issues, daddy issues, anxiety/depression, Phantom of The Opera references, death, time jumps, pregnancy, no smut warnings *gasp*. minors DNI.

wc. 16.8k+

now playing. Young & Beautiful//Lana Del Rey

for @ncdeeh, the biggest fan of this series out there🖤

———————————-

Germany. 

It feels like a movie when you arrive and get off of the train. Smoke blows around, different accents sing through the air, and your breath visibly shudders in front of your face.

Heeseung’s cheeks deepen with color, he insists on carrying your bags. He knows you’re still in some state of shock, too stunned by everything that has unraveled in the last 48 hours.

“The hotel my dad booked us isn’t too far from here, I’ll order a cab for us.” He nods, directing you to follow him.

Innate instinct takes over, it’s time for him to be a man. To embody the role his father has the past few years of his life. He needs to serve and protect you now, because would you really be running off if not for him? Is he not partially to be blamed for drastically altering your life?

“We’ll only be here for a couple of weeks, then we can head back to France if you want. My dad said he’d cover everything.” Heeseung is really trying to make this as easy as possible for you. Maybe he’s feeling more guilty than he anticipated, especially after seeing your solemn expression.

“Yesterday was so fucked up.” You barely mutter, throwing yourself onto the hotel bed. “Can’t believe I did that.”

“We don’t have to talk about it.” In fact, he’d prefer not to… 

“I feel like such an awful person right now.”

You shouldn’t, given Sunghoon’s track record but this isn’t you. You would never go out of your way to use your body to manipulate and hurt someone this way..

“Don’t worry about it, alright? You don’t need to worry about me forgiving you. It’s like it never happened.” Heeseung grabs a hold of your hand, smiling softly. “Today’s a new day.”

Worry about forgiveness? Forgiveness for what. You contemplate asking, opening your mouth only to receive a gentle kiss. His lips pressed to yours with a tinge of fear. He’s afraid, probably as scared as you are.

“We need to talk Hee,” you shove at his shoulder, sitting back up. “About your mom, Jian, even Miyeon.. I don’t know, I feel so unsettled.”

“Whatever you want to know, I’m an open book for you.”

And you talked, for hours and hours. Ordered room service as you paced around the hotel room and delved deeper into his life. Picking up the small hints and marks of Sunghoon scattered throughout each memory and story. Late into the night you wore each other down to an empty bottle once full of emotions.

Heeseung cried, told you everything. How his mother offered him his first drink. He fought tooth and nail to make her stay home, to stop entering the local bars and waste her life away. She was never the same after the divorce, never explaining to him why or how it happened. She couldn’t after some time, couldn’t speak more than slurred speech, could barely keep her eyes open for longer than a few hours.

“My brother was jealous of that.” He nods, interlocking his fingers. “He has no idea that I was living through my own personal hell. I was living with a fragment of who my mother once was, by the end.. that wasn’t her. She would call me by my dad’s name a lot, yell at me, throw all types of insults at me.”

The more you listened, the more your heart broke. Sunghoon had no one, and Heeseung didn’t either. They could have at least had each other..

“My grandparents were too old, tired. Grandma was showing signs of early dementia and grandpa could hardly walk without hurting himself.” Heavy pain laces his tone, blinking back tears without looking at you. Not wanting to see the pity or hurt on your face for him. “Mom died in my arms, at the hospital. I didn’t want it to be real, sometimes the memory hits me out of nowhere and I feel so empty. I feel as useless as my dad says I am.”

There’s nothing to be said after he spills his soul wide open for you. Everything makes sense, the jealousy between him and Sunghoon. The unspoken truth that neither of them could even begin to see past their blind hatred for each other. 

“He’s right, I should have done more.” Heeseung trembles, failing to fight his tears any longer. They roll down to his chin, shaking off with the chatter of his teeth. “I should have helped her somehow.”

“You were a kid.” You try to help, knowing this is above your capabilities. You hold him, clean his tears, scratch through his scalp, and he lets it all out. Every fear, every thought that plagues hik, the root of his pain that started the day his parents tore apart their family. 

“I wanted to be above this, try to have a normal life when I moved back home to live with my dad.” He sighs, sinking deeper into your hold. “He hates me. Maybe I remind him too much of her.”

Even the richest of rich shouldn’t always have kids, even if they are more than able to afford to. Mr. Park clearly had a detachment from his sons, most especially Heeseung..

“I told you, he wanted me to ask Miyeon out first. I don’t know why Sunghoon took that bullet for me. I kind of hoped that it was because he doesn’t hate me, but after this..”

“I think if he knew everything, he would have never put you through all of this again Hee. Not that he deserves an excuse, but I want to believe your brother isn’t actually as evil as he wants us to perceive.”

“I hope he’s not.” Heeseung stares off into the void, sniffling. “If only because I still feel bad, that he grew up without us. Especially after living with my dad again, he’s such an emotionless prick.. it’s no wonder my brother always made fun of me when I’d cry. Moving back home without my mom was hard for me. I felt like a stranger in my own house, as if I didn’t belong there.”

Nothing can excuse Sunghoon’s behavior and actions of course, even if you questioned everyday what his experience was living alone with Mr. Park throughout his primitive years. How did all of that time without a motherly figure alter his life? The way he thinks? That stone cold heart of his you’d come to know. 

How could the two of them be so different and yet the same. Heeseung who handled his feelings by expressing his emotion and pain, never scared to shed a tear. Who would lay his head on your lap and kindly ask you to hold him, to stroke his hair the way his mother used to. Who walks around with the open wound in his heart proudly displayed.

Sunghoon, for the little amount of time you had him in your life, he couldn’t do the same. Couldn’t bring himself to open up, to tell you how he really feels. He held back, masked his feelings with anger and harshness; a shield, really. He needed someone to be there for him, to help him understand himself..

And as you lived your life and settle into your loft in Paris, you slowly let those thoughts get to you. Each day he crossed your mind, and you shoved those thoughts down deeper, kicking dirt over the growing pile to keep them buried alive. You could not feel guilty nor sorry for him, or you’d break.

Many nights came and went by staring at his name in your list of contacts, blocked by his brother the day you got on a train to get away from him. You knew that reaching out to him would only lead to your demise, because maybe when Heeseung kisses you, you shut your eyes and can taste Sunghoon’s lips.

Maybe you have to bite down on your tongue to not moan his name. Maybe when you’re extra tired, you swear that your boyfriend resembles him too much, that you can almost picture him being the one walking through the front door of your loft. 

Maybe you can’t stop yourself from imagining the other side of the coin, how everything could have gone if you had given Sunghoon a chance.

And despite how perfect your relationship has been, you can’t ward away those curiosities. Can’t fight your mind when you shut your eyes and begin to count the different beauty marks dotted around Sunghoon’s face. 

You try to ignore those thoughts, to replace them with only new memories of Heeseung, but maybe you give up one day.

Maybe you allow the fantasy of what could have been to infiltrate your head, and maybe you enjoy it more than you are willing to admit.

———————————-

~one year later~

Three hundred and sixty-five days to be exact. But who’s keeping count? 

Sunghoon is. He bought a physical calendar at the airport before flying back home with your mother and father. 

That flight had really been excruciating for him. The one upside is that the seats next to him were originally reserved for you and his brother. He could at least wallow in his misery alone. 

And he did, for a few hours at first. The long flight home spanned for over half of a day and time ticked by more slowly than usual. He tried to read, paid for the wifi to use and distracted himself with some games, browsed through the movies the airline had to offer. Nothing could stop his mind from racing, stuck in the idea of you.

Because that’s all this was right? The idea of you.

That idea that you could fix him, because maybe that’s what he wants. He wants to be fixed. Sunghoon knows all of his social problems, his dad didn’t pay for an overpriced therapist for nothing. After the divorce, he hadn’t handled the situation so great. 

Mr. Park had never wanted to be a father, he was very successful straight out of university after earning his degree rather fast thanks to his own father’s name. Generational wealth had done its due diligence to breeze him through the educational system. The last thing he wanted was to share the money consistently expanding in his bank account with children and a wife. Not when he was having a blast playboying around from country to country on private jets, schmoozed and bribed with free luxury alcohol, grand dining experiences only ever allowed for the wealthy and famous.

His father, Sunghoon’s grandfather, had other plans in mind for him. That's where his mother came in. She was an intern at his grandfather’s company, a girl with a squeaky clean reputation. He set them up on a date, insisting that his son lock in a wife before he cut him out of his will. Growing tired and furious with each new headline of his son out and about partying with celebrities.

It was time for him to get serious. That's business, investors would take him more seriously as a family man as opposed to some messy international playboy. 

So, he got married. 

Was he in love? No, absolutely not. But then along came the birth of first son Heeseung and he had no choice but to accept his title as a wed father. This was his new life.

A miserable life of work, countless business trips, screaming baby cries keeping him up all throughout the night, and a nagging wife constantly accusing him of cheating. 

Things were bleak compared to his world only a year prior, and then Sunghoon came along and everything only seemed to grow worse with time.

The boys—his boys, had no way of knowing and understanding their parents' unhappy marriage. They were given every toy, playset, console, and every shiny new expensive device on the market without question. 

Sunghoon had always been closer to his mother given his father’s packed schedule. He loved her, always lit up and giggled when she’d pick him up from school and ask about his day. He can still remember the scent of her perfume, soft and sweet like a batch of fresh cookies. Her loving hands would pinch his cheeks, hoist him up onto her hip until he became too large to do so.

They’d chat for hours into the evening after school, all about his day, what activities he did in class. Any new friends he made, helping him to complete his homework. Heeseung would usually whine for dinner first, rubbing his stomach with big eyes directed at their mother. She really really never failed to show them how much she loved them both.

That’s what hurt and confused him the most for years after the last time he saw her. His father dragged him away from her at the airport, and he kicked, he screamed, he cried and threw a tantrum. 

‘That is enough Sunghoon.’ His dad said to him firmly, gripping his shoulders and standing him back onto his feet. ‘No son of mine will embarrass this way.’

He was a kid, not even a teenager yet. Dealing with an explosion of raging hormones while losing his mom and brother. None of it seemed fair, and he cried, he cried for months, for over a year. Screamed at by his father in return, the only parent he had left to care for him. He would throw money at Sunghoon, tell him to wipe his face and go buy himself something to cheer up. That was always his answer to dealing with his overly emotional distressed son.

He tried to keep in touch with Heeseung, but his dad forbade it. Didn’t want him to be influenced by his siblings' new life or manipulated by whatever false narratives his mother would be likely to create. 

After a good year of dropping his grades, teachers contacting his father full of concern, and a son that barely opened his mouth to speak, Mr. Park slid a pamphlet across the dinner table.

‘Therapy, son.’ He cleared his throat, setting down his fork to sip his glass of wine. ‘It’s high time you grow up and become a man. No son of mine will enter high school with below average grades. I have expectations of you.’

Therapy. That was his father’s next plan to fix his broken heart. To grant him emotional relief of all his pain. 

It helped, at first, to understand why he feels what he feels. Why he acts out the way he does, why he hurts so deeply, why he can’t fathom having hope.

It worked until it didn’t. 

Maybe Sunghoon had reached a certain point of maturity that snapped his mind out of his misery. Maybe he never let it go, maybe it became a part of him. One with his misery, embracing it and not allowing it to ruin his life anymore.

‘I don’t think I need this anymore.’ He told his therapist after two years with a thin smile on his face. 

He tried to talk him out of canceling his future sessions, tried to explain that this was more beneficial for him than he realized but Sunghoon had opted for another form of therapy. 

Years of being spoiled instead of nurtured and loved by his parents led him to sports. He took up weight training. Started to see his arms build muscle, the lines in his stomach grow deeper, his stamina strengthened. 

His depressed thoughts lessened by the dayc more focused on how built and lean he could get. Visiting a trainer and nutritionist to change up his diet to nothing but protein to make him stronger, bigger, more intimidating.

His dad couldn’t call him weak anymore. In fact, Sunghoon hasn’t cried a day ever since he cut off his therapist. That damn croc of shit tried to get him on a prozac prescription, often spoke of stronger antidepressants.

He didn’t need any of that bullshit.

No.

Sunghoon knows exactly what he needs. 

Three hundred and sixty-five days and he hasn’t missed one gym session. It’s the first thing he thinks about when he wakes up. Craves the burn in his muscle, the pain and soreness he experiences after. He needs to lick off the sweat that lines his upper lip, shake off any before it can reach his eyes and clump his dark eyelashes together. 

He’s been working out like a maniac ever since that fucking family vacation. Spending countless hours in the basement gym his father and your mom never step foot inside of. They’re hardly ever home anyway, too busy frolicking around traveling the world in luxury.

He can’t complain, except for days such as today when he enters the kitchen to make himself a protein shake and his step-mother beams the largest smile at him.

“Sunghoon! Come say hi!”

“Oh mom, no please, I really have to go. I’ll be late for class!” The line cuts immediately after before he can even answer your mother.

It’s always the same, you always have to go. You’re busy, your connections bad, you have plans with Heeseung. 

“Aw shoot.” Your mom sighs, closing her ipad. “Next time.” She gives him a wary smile on her way out of the kitchen. 

There is no next time, you’ve successfully avoided him for a fucking year now. His brother never contacts him, the texts he tried to send you bounce back, his phone calls never go through. He tried at first to contact you somehow, emails, embarrassing phone calls attempted in the middle of the night when he knew you’d be awake given the time difference. Even fucking carrier pigeon would be a useless option.

You obviously want nothing to do with him. Both of your parents are too oblivious to understand the amount of effort his own fucking brother has made to avoid speaking with him. How neither if you ever ask about him, how he’s been, if he’s healthy.

Sometimes it hurts when he allows his mind to drift deep enough into those thoughts. That’s when he really takes it out on the gym punching bag. Lunging his shoulder so hard into it one day that he had to wear a sling for the rest of the week. 

It’s times like this he wishes he could be anywhere but here. That he could get away and go back to a safe place that felt more like home than whatever this bullshit is. Days like this stir up old memories of his mother, how she would cradle him and read him bedtime stories. How she carefully held his hand while grocery shopping even though she had to bend at her waist to do so and strain her back.

How he never got to say goodbye to her. Has never even visited her grave. He never got answers, how could she so easily abandon one of her kids. Maybe she never loved him..

And now he asks himself different questions, about another woman he thought, perhaps even hoped, could love him. Was he a fool to believe that you might actually have feelings for him? Fuck if you didn’t play with his emotions and mess with his head enough.

He let you, he let you dog walk him like a fucking idiot. It hurts of course, especially when he’s laid in bed and can’t sleep a wink even after tiring himself out with some midnight cardio. He stares at the ceiling, ponders the time he spent with you. How much you changed and unraveled right before his eyes.

It’s not that he wants to have feelings for you. The truth is, he gave his father an ultimatum for the first time in his life. He’d finish school, collect his degree, and run whatever fucking sector his dad needed his face plastered across as the CEO. Young Sunghoon Park, the next generation of power. 

But he did not want to continue his fraudulent relationship with Miyeon any longer, he refused to fall down that same path his dad had. To grow old with someone who only stayed with him by force. 

Needless to say his father was disappointed, of course. The old man reprimanded him and argued about what a waste of time it’s been to build a relationship with Miyeon’s father to merge their companies. The real end goal was really to take down his competitors and buy them out, not merge shit. Sunghoon held his guard, he relented and stuck to his word.

He’d be his father’s working bitch, work harder than any asshole that graduated from Harvard and Yale, but the decision of his future wife would be his own. The one thing his dad could no longer have control over- the mother of his children, his partner, the woman he’d walk down the aisle towards.

He hadn’t thought too deeply on the matter until you came into his life and turned his world upside down. 

He never felt an emotional tie to Miyeon even when they began dating. They tried at first, too young to comprehend why they were being made to meet up at Dave N Busters with limitless funds to play games all night and order as many fries as they could manage to eat. She had let him know real quick that he simply wasn’t her type.

‘Pretty boys like you do nothing for me.’ 

And if he was being honest, she didn’t quite spark his desires despite her good looks and charm. They got along better as friends and made a pact to continue on with their relationship to keep their parents equally satisfied.

‘My father keeps dragging me to these business ventures to meet his colleagues' sons. I need my weekends back.’

Their agreement worked out great for both of them. Sunghoon would use those alleged dates with Miyeon to hit up parties and clubs. He started to gain a reputation around campus for having a great body and an insatiable need to fuck like a beast. With his dad remaining none the wiser to his weekend escapades, he felt as if life couldn’t get any better.

And then you came along. You showed up and gummed up the works. 

It’s hard to say if Heeseung really saw you first, not that he can stake claim off a look.. but Sunghoon knows that he wanted you first. It’s possible he had only planned to add you to the enormous growing list of girls he had conquered in just the past year. Maybe he just wanted to fuck you to say that he did. To soothe his raging ego with the knowledge that he can and will always get what he wants.

It was too easy really, you needed a tutor. And if Sunghoon knew how to do anything, it’s to pass a class with the highest scores and grades. He wasn’t valedictorian for nothing. Years of his father talking down to him about failing Physical Education of all classes after the split with his mother never allowed him to hit that low again. He studied and worked his ass off day and night to earn better grades, to be the teacher's favorite, to get a spot on the dean’s list.

Sunghoon hadn’t planned to keep fucking you. A few times maybe, for fun, to piss his dad off even if he never found out. But when he heard you inside of Heeseung’s bedroom..

When he saw the way the two of you looked at each other. When his older brother swept you away and off your feet cosplaying as some fucking humble prince to help you escape from an awkward first meeting with Miyeon; that—that pissed Sunghoon off.

Not Heeseung who also forgot about him for years, who got to live with the one parent they had that could give a fuck about either of them. That likely came home after school to home cooked meals. He’s sure their mother still brushed his hair even as a teenager. Still woke up the house on Sunday mornings loudly singing along to her favorite songs as a teenager. That motherfucker really had the audacity to portray himself as a saint in front of you.

And that truly made his blood boil. For a moment, no more than a few seconds.. he felt a tinge of jealousy.

Not only did Heeseung get to have their mother’s love in the end, but he was also going to have you.

Call him a monster for reacting the way that he did, but seeing his brother happy for the first time since he’d moved back in with their father; that made his blood pressure spike. 

Why should Heeseung have it so fucking easy?! Why does everything work out for him?? Sunghoon’s sick of it, he’s been sick of that waste of space moping around the house. Taking up time in the living room playing his stupid fucking video games, never even bothering to ask him if he’d want to join him.

Not that he would, never wanting to hold a conversation with that moron he’s forced to call his sibling. His feelings may have been superficial, greedy and childish.. at first, but maybe that’s why he never fucked a random hook-up more than a handful of times. He never permitted himself to grow attached, to release those emotions that could weaken him. He tried so hard to protect the vulnerable shattered boy that grew without love, that he nearly forgot he even once existed.

That’s why this has hurt more than anything he’s felt in years. Because he hasn’t been able to feel. He hasn’t poured anything from his cup in so long that just one splash spilling out was enough to leave him empty.

He finds himself alone in the gym again. Glancing around at everything he’s left in place. The way his equipment shines thanks to the maids that clean up around here. How his mini-fridge stays stocked with energy drinks and electrolytes without him being required to lift a finger.

Easy. Such an easy life. Why would he ever want to leave this? Why would anyone.

Would you have ran off to Germany if not for him? Would you have stayed with Heeseung all of this time if he had just let you be? Thousands of questions with no answer swarm his thoughts when he zones out deep enough. A good vigorous workout can typically cure that, grunting through the burning pain that shoots up his back and arms. 

Sweat pours and he twists side to side to spray the droplets away from his eyes. Too fearful of ever catching himself in the mirror again with any type of wetness rimmed so close to his iris. The one time he did had him dropping to his knees, scrubbing a small towel at his face until his skin turned an angry red and not one bit of sweat remained.

Crying is for weak little bitches like his older brother. Always crying to get his way instead of putting up a fight.

Hearing your voice today for only a few seconds, the line beeping when you ended the call.. the thought wrinkles his eyebrows, burns inside of his nostrils. Twitching his nose to make that feeling go away, that hallowing in his chest. Not even a year apart had softened you? These days of nothing, you weren’t at all curious?

Pain. Pain squeezed at his lungs. Subsiding it as over exerting himself by lifting weights that are too heavy. He drops them abruptly and goes to chug water. Dragging a towel across his forehead, leaving his hair sticking up in different directions. 

Heartless, a heartless girl with no compassion. Unless his brother had really manipulated you to act this way.. he had his suspicions. That Heeseung had fucked you up as much as himself.. took advantage of the sweet soul he’d come to know. Refusing to believe that what you shared had meant nothing..

It certainly hadn’t meant nothing to Sunghoon. He tried to fuck other girls, even went on dates and forced a smile on his face through each boring one. He couldn’t forget you, everything around him led back to the memory of you.

Perhaps even who he wanted you to be for him.. and time and time again he failed to convince himself that this was your choice. That you chose his brother..

There was just no way.

Sunghoon came to workout to get away from his mind. To shut you off for an hour or so. He can’t deal with this right now. Why did you mom have to be on a video call with you right now?!

Stomping over to the ipad, he scrolls through different playlists in search of something to blast the echo of your voice away. Something obnoxiously loud to drown out his mind.

He should have hit shuffle and gone back to his reps. The universe couldn’t taunt him any harder as your name shows up in bold letters on the screen, recommending him a playlist you must have saved on here when you’d use his gym.

He would have deleted it by now if he had noticed, and he should. He should tap the screen to remove your shitty playlist for good. But he doesn’t, he hits play instead and the room floods with your screamy tortured emo crap. This woe is me wah wah wah music that you and his brother bonded over. Teenage angst at it’s finest as some grown man wails through his sound system and his hands fall limp to his sides. It’s the same shit he’d hear coming from your now unlived in bedroom. The muffled guitar from your headphones. 

Why didn’t he just hit delete? Now he can’t stop his nostrils from flaring, his teeth gritting together, the tremble running down his forearms to his hands.

It’s been so long since Sunghoon last shed a tear. It happened last on that flight while he sat alone, about six hours up in the air. He put on some cheesy romcom movie to watch, fully expecting to fall asleep 10-15 minutes in. He should have chosen something else, of course he landed on some ridiculous movie with a love triangle plot.

‘I like you just the way you are.’

Sunghoon had to hit pause, fighting the tears filling up his eyes as he struggled to not blink. If he blinks, the one singular tear dangling near the corner will spill down his cheek. He’ll have shed an actual fucking tear. 

Stupid fucking Bridget Jones Diary, he’ll never watch this crap again! Instead he shut off the movie and dabbed away the tear that managed to get past his cold will. No one saw that happen anyway, only he has to know that some sappy romance film brought him to tears.

That won’t happen again. Except that when he landed and finally got home, took a shower and laid in bed; he couldn’t stop thinking about that dumb movie. Who did Bridget fucking pick?!? She couldn’t have chosen that asshole Daniel Cleaver..

Not after Mark Darcy told her he liked her embarrassing ass just the way she is. He threw a fit that night learning that there was 3 Goddamn movies he’d have to get through to find out who this woman ends up with. Not a wink of sleep was had that night as he sat at his computer and found streams of each one go watch in order from start to end.

Sunghoon.. Sunghoon couldn’t stop repeating that line. 

‘I like you just the way you are.’ What a load of shit..

Maybe his heart tightened and his pulse slowed down for a minute, everything on the plane went still, his ears popped, and he felt something he didn’t believe to be possible..

Love.

This has to be why girls watch this crap.. 

What he would give up to be liked just the way he is. That’s how you made him feel, accepted. You saw his darkness and still let him in. That cut him deeper than anything. Losing you to his brother hardly mattered compared to the thought that you accepted him, you liked him for exactly who he is without needing change..

“Stupid stupid stupid.” He slaps at his skull, crouching down by the speaker to tuck his chest into his knees and take shallow breaths. He chose to ignore these panic attacks and nights without sleep, lying to himself that he’s fine. He’s completely fine. That these unanswered questions and intrusive thoughts don’t consume him. That he doesn’t scream in the shower and punch at the tile out of anger, frustration and deep pain that he continues to shove down.

Taking a few minutes to shut off his kind and recuperate himself, he drags his weight up by gripping onto the speaker stand. Slamming his palm down to power off the machine before anymore of your playlist can shake the gym walls and stab the knife lodged in his chest even deeper.

He limps slowly to sit properly, patting around his sweats for his phone. Taking another minute to catch his breath he unlocks the device and searches through his contacts to make a phone call.

“Hello?”

“Yeah.” He licks at his dried lips, rubbing his chest to help his breathing return to normal.

“Sunghoon? What’s going on?”

“Miyeon, I need to see you.”

———————————-

“You look like shit.” 

“Thanks.” Sunghoon opens the front door wide for Miyeon, ushering her in toward the living room. His parents aren’t home meaning he won’t have to deal with his father’s pestering questions or wishes of them getting back together. That’s not why she’s here.

Miyeon’s as pretty as ever, her hair shines and bounces as she walks. The scent of sweet cotton candy trails behind her, and her mini-skirt flicks up with each step she takes ahead of him. She’s beautiful, she always has been, and still he feels nothing for her.

“Alright, what was so urgent that you needed me to weasel my way out of the annual tennis finals at the country club? My dad’s not happy.” She huffs, smirking and rolling her eyes. “Not that I’ve loved spending my summer paraded around a bunch of rich spoiled frat boys.”

“How’s your boyfriend?” Sunghoon asks, sitting down next to her.

“Sad, he misses me.” She pouts. “I miss him more.”

“And when will you tell your father about him?”

Miyeon’s lips tighten, hiding a grin. “When will you tell your father that you left me for your step-sister?”

Of course Sunghoon told her, he had to. He had to tell someone and in many ways, Miyeon may be his only friend. It wasn’t easy but he needed someone to understand, to reassure him that he’s not going insane. 

‘You can’t possibly be losing your mind Hoon, you never had it to begin with.’ 

She wasn’t the best of help, but she listened, and she told him that he’s a freak. But a valid freak nonetheless.

“I can’t tell him.” Sunghoon nods, nervously playing with his hands. “Haven’t been on his good side ever since I told him that we broke things off. He’s been on my ass about internships and school. Nepotism must skip a generation.”

“You’re going to inherit his company, don’t be so crass. It’s unbecoming, tarnishing your cold stoic vampiresque image.” She teases, flicking his chin. “You’re definitely a shell of the man I knew. She did a real number on you.”

He hates that she’s right. He knows that his confidence has been rocked, his mind drowned beneath the thoughts he can’t escape. He wouldn’t even know how to keep his guard up anymore to block Miyeon’s sassy jabs. “I guess she did.” 

“What is it, Hoon? You could have anyone. Why did it have to be your step-sister?” She crosses her legs, head tilted to the side observing him. All she needs now is a notepad and pen to tap her chin with. She should study to psychoanalyze, really.

“She could have been anyone.” Sunghoon agrees with that. Step-sister or not, he can’t pinpoint the exact reason you caused him to spiral. “But I like her.”

“Why? What’s so special about her?”

It’s not one thing, but a bit of everything. If he could really take away the superficial and shallow reasonings beyond you being his type physically, sexy and alluring, it would come down to the energy between you. The tension and heat. He often questions if that would fade with time once you stop fighting him. If you would ever stop fighting him even if he was able to call you his.

The back and forth with you really does turn him on not only sexually but emotionally. Awakening feelings he forgot could exist. Even now without contact, with no way to reach you, he feels that pull. He feels taunted and defeated, and it’s pitiful how much he loves it. He loves that between him and his brother, you may have been the victorious one after all.

“Would you judge me if I said I feel a connection to her?” He sighs, slumping into the couch seat. “That sounds stupid, right?”

“Not at all.” Miyeon shifts to look at him, offering a small smile. “Sounds normal. You’re crazy about her because it’s more than sex, if it wasn’t you wouldn’t still be hung up on her. A guy like you doesn’t have it hard, you wouldn’t even know what it is to struggle even if you were slapped across the face with it.”

“I have it hard.” He grumbles, glaring at her. “You know what I’ve been through.”

“No you don’t Hoon.” Miyeon laughs, pointing a finger at him. “You think that because your life hasn’t been perfect, everything hasn’t gone your way, that other people wouldn’t sell their soul to live the way you live? We’re so incredibly out of touch with the real human struggle, our biggest hassle is seeking love.”

“So what? I’m not worthy of love because I’m some fucking wealthy brat?” He snaps, getting angrier by the second.

“We’re all worthy of love. You’re just not used to having to try hard, to earn what you want..” Miyeon reaches for his hand, breaking his rage for a moment. “If you expect love, you have to give love. She’s not your mom, she’s probably just as scared as you are of all of this.”

“She loves my brother just fine.” 

“From what you’ve told me, he loves her too. I didn’t know back then, but the way he rescued her from having dinner with us would have swept me off my feet.” She shrugs, frowning at him. “And do you know where he is now? In Paris, with her. He gave up his life for her.”

“Because he hates me.”

“Or because he loves her.”

Sunghoon’s mouth twitches, he refuses to believe that. Heeseung isn’t capable of loving anyone other than himself, he’s selfish.. 

“And you? You’re here, sitting on a couch talking to me as if I am your therapist.” Miyeon continues, cocking an eyebrow at him. “What’s your excuse?”

“What? I’m supposed to go to Paris and stalk her?!” 

She shrugs, raising her hands and nodding. “How could that be any worse than everything else you have already done to her? Listen,” fully turning to face him, she grabs both of his hands. “You need to talk to her, tell her how you feel.”

“She won’t speak to me.”

“Don’t give her a choice.” Miyeon says, grimacing. “It’s not the best advice but you don’t have time for this anymore. You’ve been moping around for a year still hanging onto old memories of this girl. She may not even be the same person you felt a connection to anymore. Aren’t you tired of not knowing?”

“You think I should go to Paris? Corner her when she’s not with my brother?” A light flickers behind his eyes, staring ahead deep in thought.

“I didn’t say all of that but, you need to do what you need to do.. get your girl or lose her forever.” 

She’s right, isn’t she? How could Sunghoon not realize this on his own? He thought giving you time, that you would come around on your own and realize how much he loves you. That he only did what he did because he wants you. That his brother would never compare to him..  

“Poor girl.” Miyeon mumbles, smacking Sunghoon’s shoulder. “Don’t let your greed to win overshadow what you feel for her. Put her first, for once.”

Maybe he needs more friends, perhaps another opinion could have talked him out of this. His father couldn’t complain when he approached him with the idea of finishing up his company internship(aka bitch work) in France, given that he would be taking over the European sector of his father’s company. 

So he packed his bags with nothing else planned. No place to call home, no thoughts other than finding you. The flight was long and lonely once again, but he made use of his time and brushed up on French, repeating key words and phrases he’d likely use often. 

It was crazy, all of this has been crazy. Miyeon told him to not stress much on his outlandish behavior, it’s not as if falling for your step-sibling sounded normal to begin with.

And maybe, he could fall out of love. He could go on with his life without another thought of you, without another painful grip around his heart. 

At least he hoped for an outcome close to that, of discarding his heartache. Of forgetting your name. But that couldn’t be the case.

No. He sat in the hotel lobby where he’d overheard you had taken on a summer job, and he saw you. He stayed by the corner, in the shadows, pretending to wait for his taxi driver's arrival. He watched you walk through the front doors, and he gasped. His chest caved in, his grip on the chair's arms tightened, and he leaned forward. He watched you move like slow motion, as if you were never real, and his stomach fluttered. 

He knew right then this may never be over.

Maybe it’s for the best that only Miyeon knew of his plan. To lure you up to his suite and get you alone at your place of work. You can’t leave if he does that.. and sure, maybe it’s not the most ethical approach. Maybe it’s invasive and even deplorable, but what choice have you left him? 

Phone number, blocked.

Emails, ignored.

Your living space? Shared with Heeseung. 

How else is he supposed to get to you?

This makes sense, planning out a way to trap you alone in his suite with him. Sneaking up on you, showering you with outrageously expensive gifts, and getting on his knees to purpose.

Now Miyeon had not made that suggestion, but Sunghoon concluded no other statement could make it clear how serious he is about you. How much he wants to prove his love to you, that’s why he hopped off of his flight and immediately rushed to one of the most luxurious reputable jewelers in all of Paris. A fat diamond rock to adorn your finger would be the perfect way to express his love, right? It’s not as if he even knows your ring size, having to take a wild guess and make note to adjust it later if necessary.

Everything about this plan is very *him* if he thinks about it, and you should expect no less from him. He’s eccentric like that, always pulling something ridiculous. He’s sure you recall when he purchased that pearl necklace for you simply because you’d been admiring it. How else would he make a grand comeback into your life?

Maybe he is crazy, or maybe you made him crazy. He smiled as he spoke to you, his palms grew sweatier the more his pocket weighed down with the leather box encasing your future engagement ring. The gloves were a real nice touch to not leave any of his grubby fingerprint marks on the silver band, nothing to ruin how pretty the ring would beam from your ring finger. You didn’t seem to like the gloves, but ah well..

‘I won’t give up on what my heart believes is real.’

He couldn’t believe the words leaving his lips, really. Could hardly hold himself together with how loud chest was pounding. 

‘Please, say yes.’ He begged, and his tongue felt so heavy dragging through his pleading. The backs of his eyes burned, his stomach churned, his knees trembled on the ground. If not for the cool breeze of air conditioning swarming through the hotel room, he’s sure he’d be sweating enough to soak through his suit.

It’s been so long since he’s touched you, since he’s seen your eyes focused on him, since he’s held you. Nervous hands clutch at your waist and bring you to stand. The look of awe and disbelief written across your face fills his chest with warmth. This could be worth all of his waiting and suffering, if you open your mouth and say that one word that can bring you together again.

“No!” A firm slap flies across his cheek. Snapping his neck to the side and nearly dislodging his jaw, he blinks for a minute to regain himself. Shifting his mouth muscles around to stop the lower half of his face from going numb.

More than the pain scorching through his face, he couldn’t turn off the ringing going off between his ears.

NO?!?!?!??!

Sunghoon’s cheek burns, his chest muscles twitch, and a searing pain erupts in his heart. He can feel it this time, no denying that his heart is literally in severe pain, causing him to reach for the area. He turns to glare at you, dropping the box with the ring from his grip. 

“What is wrong with you! You come here, to my job!!” You shout, shoving at his abdomen. “And you fucking ask me to marry you?!? Are you insane! Are you God damn kidding me! You can’t be this crazy, you just can’t be!”

He hears you, he does, but not really. Because the pain in his chest blooms, he steps back with each shove you deliver, and more of his internal hurt spreads. The butterflies flapping inside of his stomach lose their wings, they collapse to their death and he grabs a hold of your wrists before you can push him away again.

“You left me.”

It’s hard to look at him, harder to hear his voice. To feel his large hands wrapped around your delicate wrists. It’s harder to look away and find the ring by your feed, the ring he seriously thought you’d accept and wear on your finger? That you’d say yes?

“I was never with you.”

“Tell me,” he swallows, lifting your arms up and crossing them over your chest. Holding you in place. “Tell me that I mean nothing to you then. Let me fucking move on and forget about me, let me go.”

“Sunghoon.”

“No.” He grits, bottom lip trembling. “You don’t get to do this. You want to be with my brother? Then fine, go fucking be with him. But at least let me go.”

“This was all in your head.” You struggle to rip out of his hold, shaking yourself away. “Y-you think you can have whatever you want because of daddy’s money. You can’t have me just because you stomp and jump around like a bra—“

He should have known you wouldn’t give him a clear answer, you’re too weak for him to deny him. He’s too weak to stay away from you. So he cuts you off with a firm kiss, slotting his lips between yours. He’s been craving, dreaming of this kiss for months, to savor your taste once more. 

There’s no push or pull, only tension leaving your body as his soft pout moves against yours and he takes a step closer until the backs of your knees hit the hotel bed.

He deserves this kiss and some, more than anything. For waiting, for staying patient and not losing the little bit of his mind he still has left. A shudder runs up his spine when he drops his hands to your waist and squeezes you, pulling your chest to his. You feel right against him, smell so good, and your lips couldn’t be more heavenly. 

Slowly blinking his eyes open, he takes a few seconds to linger by your lips and take in your softened features. The dreamy look that’s taken over your face. The breaths that fan across his mouth heavier than before. He knows in this moment that you’ll never let him go, because he won’t let you.

“Y-you shouldn’t have done that.” You stammer, reaching for his hands on you. “Think you can just come back into my life and mess everything up again?!”

“Yes, I mean, no.” Squeezing his eyes shut, he shakes his head in disagreement. “I’m not here to mess up anything, I’m here to make this right.”

“There’s nothing to make right.” Loosening his hold on your waist, you manage to move around him. “I have to get back to work, please do not follow me.”

“Please.” He knows he sounds pathetic, reaching for your hand to stop you from leaving. He drags along with you toward the suite entrance without letting go. Stopping when you do and your shoulders slump, letting out a long-winded sigh.

“What do you want from me?”

“A chance.” He says confidently, interlacing his fingers with yours. “You can’t tell me you don’t feel it when we’re together. Call me insane and crazy all that you want, but I know what passes between us isn’t nothing.”

“It doesn’t matter—“

“No, it does though.” Sunghoon cuts you off, using your moment of surprise to loop his arms around your waist again. “Because I’m here, I came here for you. I will not leave until you give me a chance.”

“A chance? I don’t understand, I can’t even begin to understand why you’re still trying. Why won’t you give up?!”

He knows that nothing he says to you will make sense, that even if he admitted how his feelings began to develop you may not like his full explanation. “I’m a lot of things, I’m sure you’re aware. I’m nowhere near perfect, and I haven’t shown you anything impressive really. If you deemed me a monster, I couldn’t argue with that.” He nods, rubbing up and down your sides. “But when it comes to you, I really do believe that you like me despite all of that. I—“ he stutters for a second, looking away to recompose himself. The same rush of heat he loathes finds the backs of his eyes. He can’t cry, not now.

“I think we get each other, you’re scared.” Clearing his throat, he eyes your face for any change in expression. “I’m scared. I’ve been scared. Terrified of how strongly I feel about you. I’m done being afraid.”

“And what do you think I’m scared of?” You ask sternly, tilting your chin up.

“Me.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I’m a monster.” That’s who he is to you. He’s the evil brother, the one with malicious intent. Spoiled rotten, crazy enough to do just about anything. He knows what you’ve built him up as in your mind, good or bad, there’s too much to repair and no amount of love you may harbor for him can do the job. If it could, you would have said yes. “That’s what you think of me, right?”

“No, Sunghoon.” You whisper, freeing yourself from his hold yet again. “I prefer to not think of you.”

“Why? Why is that?” He questions quickly, moving around you to barricade the door to exit. “Why are you pretending that I don’t exist? That none of this mattered to you.”

An air of defeat settles over you, dropping your head back with a sigh. You shrug and glare at him, unable to stop your gaze from roaming down, back up, and down again to take in how much more masculine and mature he’s become in just a year. Physically, and obviously emotionally. “Do you want me to tell you that I once had feelings for you? That I felt so guilty for months after leaving you alone in that hotel room. That I beat myself up over it, for feeling bad in the first place. I couldn’t even figure out how to feel, if you even deserved my sympathy after what you did.”

“Did you feel bad? For trying to break my heart?”

“No.” Pressing your lips into a thin line, you blink fast to push down the moisture finding its way to your eyes. Confused and annoyed by the look of disbelief that crosses his face, you clench your fists. “My heart let go of the idea of you after I found out about what you did to your brother. You played in my face and tried to manipulate me, I’m not even sure I know who you really are.”

Sunghoon has to fight to not roll his eyes, resting his back against the door he crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m exactly who I’ve shown you, never seemed to be a problem before.”

“Are you? Are you the same nice guy that took me to the Vatican? Or are you that asshole that threatened me in your bedroom?”

“Both.” He shrugs, pushing off the door to get in your face. “Tell me that you didn’t love both, that you didn’t like it when I fucked you the way you deserved.”

“I don’t think you’d be able to handle the truth if I told you what I loved most.” 

Sunghoon squints, licking the backs of his teeth with a hint of annoyance flickering across his face. He shakes his head and scoffs under his breath. “Don’t start.”

“Why? Because you hate to accept that side of yourself? That you can actually feel basic human emotion?” You ask brazenly, reaching for his jaw to drag one of your digits down. “That this sharp cold image is just a facade to hide how broken you really are?”

His neck twists away, snapping his face away from your touch. “Whatever bullshit my brother has told you is a lie. He doesn’t know me, he doesn’t know shit about what I went through.”

“He hasn’t told me much, only what I asked. I know about Miyeon.”

“Pfft,” rolling his eyes, he sets his jaw tight and pins you in place with a furious look. “What about her? I already told you, we broke it off. We never had a real relationship.”

“I know.” Softening your expression, you reach for one of his hands. Not too surprised when he allows you to lace your fingers between his. “I know about that, how your father wanted Heeseung to date her first. And I know that despite everything you’ve pulled, you still have love for your brother.”

Sunghoon lifts your hands, turning from yours to his to admire the size difference between you. How you perfectly fit against his palm, and how much nicer hand would look with a gorgeous ring on your finger. “Even if I did, it’s not enough to stop me from getting what I want. No amount of love for him or my father can stop me anymore, you do realize that, don’t you?”

“I think you’re looking for someone that I am not.” You frown, pulling your hand away. “I’m not the girl that can erase your past or heal you..”

“I don’t need to be healed.” Cupping your face, his thumbs stroke over your cheeks. Eyes dropping shut for a moment as he contemplates kissing you again. He knows better now, than you won’t listen to him if he tries to capture your lips again. “I just need you.”

“No, Hoon..” you sigh, lightly squeezing his wrists. “You’re in pain, whether you understand that or not. And it’s beyond me, above what I am capable of helping you deal with.”

Sunghoon’s fingers tremble against your jaw, slowly dragging his hands down to your throat. “Is my pain all that I am to you?”

“No, but.. I don’t know if your pain is something that I’m ready to handle.” 

Dropping his hands, he takes a step back away from you. No longer standing before the door, leaving you with a clear escape. “Yet.”

Perhaps he’s right, maybe it’s hope, delusion, something along that route. But you can’t find it in yourself to deny him. Only stiffly nodding your head as you make your way to leave the suite. He stops you one more time, licking his pink lips.

“Don’t leave me this way, after all of this. After a year of replaying every memory I have with you.” He says desperately, blinking away tears he’d never allow to pour down in front of you.

“What do you want from me?” You ask nearly as pitifully, fearing how much longer you can stand being around him. Your resolve can only stay so strong, even if you won’t admit that the memories of him have never once left your mind.

“A kiss.” 

“I’m with your brother.”

“One kiss.”

“One kiss and you’ll let me go back to work?” You ask hesitantly, already sensing thick tension building up around you. There’s nothing to stop you from opening the door and walking out, except Sunghoon could grab you.. and knowing him he would. He’d keep you holed up in here for another hour until you crack under his pressure and give into him. That’d be the worst case scenario, knowing in the back of your mind that you’d absolutely succumb to him if you stay in here alone with him much longer.

A small smile plays on his lips, nodding shortly. “One kiss and you’re free to leave.”

“But am I free of you?”

“No promises.” Sunghoon doesn’t bother to ease into the kiss. Making the first move to cup your face. He presses in, leaning his head in to align your lips. 

This kiss that he’s allowed to run rampant in his mind. This kiss that he’s craved for, pictured all of the different ways it would go. How you’d run into his arms, and he’d scoop you up. Maybe even some rain would fall from the sky, because surely even the Gods of the universe had to rejoice in this moment.

Only this is nothing as he dreamt of, this is better.

This is real. The barely there breathy moan that escapes your throat. The heat radiating from your mouth to his. The soft plush of your lips applying pressure against his as you kiss back. And you do kiss back, allowing the tip of his tongue to skim across the seam of your lips. He boldly takes the chance to push in more, eyebrows raised as your mouth parts open around him.

This kiss is more passionate, more intense, blooming life between his thighs. He feels mad once his tongue makes it past your lips, and he licks the roof of your mouth. Licks through the crevices, laps at your tongue. He can’t get enough, moaning as the taste of your saliva meets the back of his throat. He needs more, needs to know how swollen your pretty mouth can get if he keeps going. Pulling back his tongue and slurping, he latches onto your bottom lip. Sucking the plump juiciness between his, biting down harder than intended. 

Excitement builds fast, rushing through him at light speed and his hands. His hands slide down, they land at your chest, teasing the buttons of your blouse. And just like that your lips are gone, leaving him puckered up midair. Dreamily blinking open his glazed over eyes.

“H-huh?” 

The sight of the back of your hand dragging across your mouth is the first thing he sees. Drawing yourself away from him with a firm nod. You hold out a finger toward him and make your way to the door. “Stay right there.”

Sunghoon can’t ignore the way his chest swoops down to his stomach. His groin aches and throbs. Fuck if it isn’t taking every bit of his restraint to stop himself from chasing after you only to slam your back against that door before you can go anywhere. With clenched fists he listens to you, gritting his teeth.

“Will you allow me to call you now?”

“No.”

Sunghoon chuckles sarcastically to mask his pain. Having to hold himself up by clutching onto the entrance table. Practically knocked off of his feet after getting a small taste of you. “I figured as much. Well I always have your address.”

“Hoon.”

“What?” He acts stupid, blinking dumbly with a shit-eating grin. All of this is fake, an act to keep his tears under control.

“Do not show up at my home.”

“Oh don’t be so dramatic, that’s not my style..” he motions around himself. Indicating that he’d much rather track you down at work where he can at least enjoy a luxurious hotel suite. “I’ll be writing to you.”

“Writing??”

“Letters.” He nods surely, playing with the door handle. “I hope you’ll read them.”

Giving him a suspicious eye, you shake your head and begin to turn around to head back to your manager’s office. Scoffing and muttering under your breath. “Whatever.”

“Don’t be a stranger! Alright?” He calls out from behind you. Sighing to himself and dragging two digits across his bottom lip. 

Maybe you didn’t say yes, and sure, you didn’t seem as excited to see him after an entire year as he had hoped for; but one kiss held more than hope. Confirming that you still want him, still think about him. He’d cherish that kiss until you come around and finally accept to let him in. It’s not as if you’ve kicked him out, yet..

———————————-

‘I remember my first time in Paris, I thought to myself city of love? And wondered if I simply did not understand what love must really feel like. Dad had brought me along for a company trip, he wanted me to meet some investors, get my face recognized before I joined his side someday. I watched these old fat bastards chain smoke all night, rave about Parisian women dancing topless at Crazy Horse, drink as if tomorrow would never come. I felt no sense of love, only disgust as I sat there amidst wealth being mindlessly thrown around. 

And now I sit here in the city of love, and I sip on cappuccinos every early morning. I order the same flaky butter croissant from this adorable quaint café near my hotel. I take my time to people watch, relax and soak in the morning sun that has just risen, and I think of you. I think of love.’

He really did write you letters. Every week a new one would come in, addressed from one of your favorite aunts. The first to arrive initially had you excited, hoping she had shoved in a few hundred dollar bills after hearing that you’d been working. Maybe your mother had informed her that she hadn’t been transferring you quite as much anymore. The last thing you anticipated was a handwritten letter from Sunghoon.

Choking on your coffee as you began to read, you cleared your throat and peered around for Heeseung’s presence. Thankfully, he was too deep into his game to notice your wide eyes and the paper in your hand. Sunghoon had really sent you a Goddamn letter.. pen and paper.. what a fool.

You tried to hold back a smile as you continued to read upon realizing this was no mail sent from your beloved aunt. 

‘I think about you and how nice it would be to wake up by your side. To share my morning coffee with you, to cut a croissant for you. To simply take a stroll before I head into work and hold your hand. How much I’d love to see your face glow under this sunrise. I’d buy you flowers from the local vendors, take you on shopping sprees every weekend. We’d be regulars at the opera house, try out all the fine dining Paris has to offer. And when we’re up to it, we could go to the South of France, take the train out to Sweden, Denmark, wherever you wish to visit. That must be love, to enjoy and live through this life with someone who fills your heart.

-SH’

Thousands of feelings swarm around your head as you fold up the paper and tuck it into your pocket. Already planning to stuff it away inside of the jewelry box you only ever open to look at, to remember. 

“Babe, did you check out any of those listings I emailed you?” Heeseung calls out, not moving his eyes away from the computer screen. He leans in too close, jabbing at his keyboard. “Found some really good plots of land and houses that could benefit from a lot of refurbishing in Seattle. I think you’d really like the area.”

It’s been a couple of weeks now since your anniversary, since Sunghoon’s unwelcomed arrival back into your life. You never mentioned your night time visitor at work to your boyfriend, maybe out of fear. Worry and guilt as to how he would react knowing that his younger brother’s booked a suite at your place of work..

Heeseung likely wouldn’t have taken the news well, given your past and how sensitive the topic of his brother always is. You don’t walk on eggshells anytime he’s even alluded to in conversation for nothing.

“Uhm, no, haven’t had time, baby. You know work has been so crazy. Peak tourist season and all.” 

You’re not lying, work has been slammed. You’ve come home night after night completely exhausted. Also tense from looking over your shoulder, afraid and hopeful of the possibility to see a familiar face. It’s not that you want to see him, at least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself. You’re curious more than anything.. if he’d rear around the corner. If he’d try to bother you while working, what his next step could be..

It’s better this way. Keeping Heeseung clueless to his brother's current location, avoid any possible altercations, and there’s of course no need to mention the kiss. It didn’t mean anything.. you just needed a way out.

“Babe, our lease here ends in a few months. I really want to start planning for the move back.”

This has been happening nonstop for the last week. Even when you’re fucking he brings up moving, rubbing your stomach and mumbling about having kids. Reassuring you that he’ll land a high-paying job once you move. It’s a near guarantee thanks to his last name and father’s connections..

“We could go month to month..” you mumble, pretending to clean up around the kitchen. “You know, if we can’t find a place we agree on.”

The sound of his game pausing fills your living space in silence. Slowly turning to look at you, he tilts his head, eyebrows furrowed with confusion. “But then we’d be here even longer, and I thought—“

“I don’t want to move.” You should have let him know immediately. But impending fear of losing him kept you quiet. Nodding and agreeing to whatever he said as you went on ignoring his texts and emails about moving. Skirted around the subject whenever he brought it up again. Yawned and waved off the conversation in favor of getting to sleep, or taking a shower, anything to make him stop until he came to the realization on his own.

“You don’t want to move?..” moving to stand, he slowly walks over to you. Lips pulled down in a frown. “But I thought we were planning our future—“

“You.” Interrupting him, you anxiously ring your hands together. Knocking your nail beds against each other. “You were planning..”

“Are you—“ he breathes shallowly, reaching for his chest. “B-breaking up with me??”

“No! Hee, no! Not at all!” You fret, running around the kitchen island to grab his arms. “This is why I didn’t want to talk about this! I don’t want you to be upset!”

“So, you lied to me?” He sighs, head dropping. “You never wanted to move?”

“I didn’t lie.. I never told you that I wanted to move.”

“Then, then—why? Why not?” He sounds genuinely confused, tearing your heart apart. You tried to avoid this, didn’t want to have to ruin the peaceful relationship you’ve become accustomed to, too comfortable with. 

“I love living here, in Paris..”

“But it’s—we always complain about so many things! The sewer system, how fast the groceries go bad, the lack of convenient transportation!”

“You, you complain about those things.” Rubbing his arms up and down, you trail down to place your hands in his. “I’m sorry for not being honest. I don’t want you to leave me..”

Heeseung looks as overwhelmed as you feel, forehead wrinkled, lips tightened into a thin line. He sighs and shakes his head, pulling you into a hug. It’s not that you couldn’t make it work.. a long distance type of relationship, but for how long? 

There’s a chance you could wake up one day tired of this, missing your life back in the states. But there’s a higher chance you’ll regret letting him slip from your arms to start a new life without you in America. 

Silence and a tight hug consumes you for the next hour. Calming each other with soothing rubs up and down each other’s backs.

“Now I feel bad, like I’ve been pressuring you..” he mumbles into your shoulder. Squeezing you closer to his front. “God I feel like such a dick.”

“It’s my fault, seriously. You have nothing to feel bad about.” 

No. The only one who should feel bad is you. Giggling over some stupid letter that you should have tore up once you realized who it came from. You should feel bad whenever you’re by yourself, when your boyfriends at work, when you lock yourself in the bathroom alone; and you think about him. Replaying the kiss, the touch of his hands on you, the desperation in his voice. You’re the worst girlfriend, undeserving of a man as good as Heeseung.

“We don’t have to keep talking about this. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Pulling away to look at you, he really tries to force a smile to comfort you. “I was getting home sick, I don’t know.. it was stupid.”

“Not stupid.” You say apologetically. Sorry for things he’s not even aware of..

The rest of the day goes by awkwardly, needless to say. As much as you both continue to assure each other that everything’s okay, and everything will be okay; you know that everything has changed. 

Heeseung drops the topic of moving for the next few weeks, and he tries, he tries so hard to be the best boyfriend to you. Only setting in what a piece of shit you really are for holding him back, for keeping him here with you for your own selfish reasons.

He’s your first love and the thought of losing him keeps you up at night. Staring blankly out into nothing as you quietly debate with yourself over and over again. Weighing out the pros and cons of moving, of giving up your dreams to satisfy his. 

And through your inner turmoil, the letters continue to come. Never questioned by your boyfriend when you explain that your favorite aunt once lived in Paris when she was about your age. You’ve become pen pals sort of, sharing your experiences back and forth.

Another lie.

‘I told my French instructor about you, or well, perhaps I fibbed a little. Told him that I moved here for my girlfriend. She loves Paris, enchanted with the city. He’s really helped me out to improve the little bit of French I had learned back in high school. 

There’s this saying he spoke of when I told him about us. 

Le cœur a ses raisons que la raison ne connaît point

It means: The heart has its reasons of which reason knows nothing. 

Again, I think of you, I think of my heart when it comes to you. The reasons I think that I love you, how they run so deep that I am not sure I will ever begin to understand how we ended up here..

I hope you are well, and that someday you will understand that love is not one dimensional. Our hearts are stronger than we realize. Love you.

-SH’

These letters, they could be another way to manipulate you. Going on two months now, he sends one every week sharing tidbits of his life here in Paris. How lonely it is, how he’s used to being alone, and how even though you are not with him—he is with you.

And then he writes about her, and you have to ask yourself how far Sunghoon’s willing to go to mess with your head. How much of himself is he willing to open up and spill out for you. He claims to love you, shouldn’t he pour himself empty for you?

‘My mom passed away September 26th. The days coming up again. I don’t talk much about her, I know. I am sure my brother has told you enough, how I bawled my eyes out everyday as a child. How much I hurt all by myself. Maybe it’s true that people like me are some of the loneliest.

Someone like me who seems to have it all. That’s what a lot of the employees under me now say behind my back. I hear them, I listen to their snickering words. To their quiet whispers when I arrive and walk through to my office without acknowledging their feeble existences. They think I’m a fucking dick, they’re probably right.

I don’t blame everything on my mother. I pity her the same way I pity my brother. Both too weak to handle their emotions in a way that doesn’t ruin others lives. 

You told me I have love for my brother, that I don’t hate him, and you’re right. I don’t know how you read me so easily, but you do. It drives me crazy, the way you make me feel seen. I go through life with all these eyes on me, but none of them really see me. None of them are actually looking at me.

Ah, I am speaking nonsense, aren’t I? You probably haven’t read a single one of these. Maybe I’m starting to lose my last attachment to this fleeting hope. Not that this hasn’t been worth everything to me. To be able to see you again even if just once, to taste you one last time. I can’t believe I allowed love in only for it to hurt me. 

I wouldn’t take any of this back. I don’t believe I have ever let go of myself this much, the invisible armor I keep up. Thanks to you, I have learned to bring down my defenses.. I really do hate that.

Talk soon, I hope.

-SH’

Each letter dug a deeper hole inside of your chest. Sunghoon never gave you a return address, both of you know there were more than enough ways to reach him. You know exactly where his father’s company is located, his email, his phone number that remains blocked.

He poured more and more of himself into each one. And as much as it pained you to read, you felt the same butterflies or excitement each time another letter arrived in the mail. Hiding yourself at your computer desk to read every new one, muttering to Heeseung that you had some work to wrap up. 

This couldn’t qualify as cheating if you remained contactless on your side, right? Not that repeating that to yourself helped any with the guilt that continued to suffocate you. 

If only you could run to your mother with this problem, let out all of your anguish. How much you’ve been stretched apart by these two men. How they’ve split you down the middle and made you forget yourself.

If they weren’t your step-brothers she’d likely soar to the fucking moon after hearing news of your rapturous love life. Not even your mother had enough faith in you to believe that two Park men could possibly be battling to a bloody pulp to claim you as theirs and only theirs.

As fast as fall came, so did the crushing weight of reality. 

Heeseung’s smile rarely graced your days anymore. His laughter hardly filled your loft. And the uneasy strain between you never subsided. His sadness was hard to ignore and trying to only made you feel worse, guiltier, like such a terrible person.

“Hee, I checked out some of those locations you sent me before.” You mention over dinner. Feeling extra tense after reading another new letter from Sunghoon.

He’s officially moved into Paris, no longer residing at a hotel. His writing was full of excitement this time, cheering happily about finding a place. Insisting you come visit him one day to at least compliment him for hiring a fantastic realtor and scoring a decently priced house with a perfect view of the Eiffel tower. Decently priced for a millionaire, of course.

“Huh?” Heeseung asks, half paying attention. Half distracted by a game on his phone.

“Seattle, right? It’s nice and cold out there..”

Nothing like a humid sunny summer day in Paris, no.. 

“Wh-what? I thought you didn’t want to move.”

You don’t. At all.

“Worth looking at.” You shrug, biting down on your lip nervously. 

It’s not actually, and you’re being tortured by your own subconscious that won’t shut up about this. It’s all you can think about even while you fuck and have great sex. Heeseung’s accepting a future he doesn’t desire for you. And you? You’re greedy, selfish, benefiting off of his pain to fulfill your needs and dreams..

“You don’t want to leave Paris.” He nods firmly, reaching across the table for your hand. “You don’t have to lie to me.”

All you seem to do these days is lie. Lie after lie, failing to convince yourself that you only choose to lie to protect him.

You have to lie, because worse than losing him, you’d hate to be another person that’s let him down. Another comparison to his mother, father, brother, all those who have failed him before you..

“I don’t.” You struggle to say, throat welling up with tears. “But I’m scared. What does this mean for us?”

“N-nothing, I—“

“You’re unhappy.” Saying those words out loud rush tears to brim your eyes. Blinking the first batch out, they scold your cheeks on their way down. “You don’t like it here, you’re only here because of me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that.” He appeals, sitting up. The game on his phone forgotten about. “I love you, I want to be wherever you are.”

“I know.” Sniffling, you squeeze his hand. Getting up to sit down on his lap and wrap yourself around him. “I love you, and I don’t want you to choose a life that was never meant for you.”

I’ve put you through so much Heeseung. That’s what you wish you could bring yourself to say. That you released his inner demons, went behind his back, selfishly expected him to fix all of your fucked up life himself..

“We can make this work, can’t we?” Heeseung’s first cry makes your heart sink. Clutching onto him, burying your fingers through his hair. You don’t want to ever let go, don’t want to accept the reality of your situation. That he may just be your very first heartbreak.

“Of course we can, baby.”

Lying isn’t always a bad thing, right? Sometimes we lie to spare others feelings. Like when your mother lied to you about cheating on your father, she knew you’d figure everything out in time. But you were too young to fully comprehend the gravity of the situation. She lied so that you wouldn’t hate her or blame her. You lied for the same reasons..

By October, Heeseung had packed up his belongings. The two of you agreed that this wouldn’t be permanent, only until you finish up school and get at least a year’s experience of work. After that was all done, you could revisit the whole moving back to America conversation. Of course you cried and suffered in silence, keeping yourself as calm as you could around him as the days went by. The second you locked the bathroom door to shower, tears would find their way out. You’d sob and cry into your palm. Hoping the shower was louder than your aching chest to drown out the sound of your sadness.

Your mother only side-eyed you when you begged her to not make Sunghoon aware of Heeseung’s departure back to the states. She didn’t pry too much, only clicked her tongue disappointed by the lack of a close relationship you had with her preferred brother.

The goodbye before Heeseung got on the plane to leave you spiraled you into a depressive state for weeks. Only forcing yourself to appear normal when he’d video call you appearing equally miserable. This was the promise you made to each other, to keep your relationship alive. Update each other daily, phone calls, scheduled video chats, texts throughout your days, photos, anything. 

And that worked, at first. Even forcing you both to learn how to get each other off in new ways. Video calls often turned steamy, positioning your cameras to enjoy the view of your private areas as you touched yourselves and moaned. Of course, it was never enough and you’d crawl into the bed he shared with you only 3 weeks ago to cry yourself to sleep

“This was for the best.” That’s what you continued to tell yourself. He was miserable here, already back to smiling big as he used to whenever he answers another video call from you. He’s doing better mentally despite missing your warmth by his side, and that’s what matters.

If you love something, let it go, right?

That’s what Sunghoon did.

Sunghoon.

His letters have piled up, the fourth one coming in today. You stare at them stacked on your kitchen counter sometimes. Trembling hands tempted to open each and swallow down each word like a crisp sip of wine. 

They felt similar. Addicting, butter, sweet, euphoric. To be let inside of someone that not many, if any, have ever been able to know so well.

Maybe this was the right decision for you and Heeseung, as much as it ripped you to shreds to go through with. He once gave up the only life he’d ever known for you, and here you are.. only giving him up.

There are times you listen to the sound of your heart beating only to make sure it’s there. You’re not a heartless monster for choosing yourself first. Neither of your parents were pleased with this news, especially your mother who has been urging you to move and follow along with your step-brother. 

‘At least Sunghoon lives out there now too. I don’t understand you kids, Europe is great for vacation.’

She also pestered you to contact him, to not forget that he is also your step-sibling. That you also should build a healthy strong relationship with him as he will be the one to likely inherit all of Mr. Park’s wealth when his time comes.

‘Heeseung’s wonderful, I was wrong about him.’ She mindlessly chatted with you, holding a yogurt covered spoon by her mouth. ‘I’m so grateful that he took all of that time to look out for you. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear he had a crush on you or some type of liking.’

She giggled over the silly idea, finishing her yogurt and ending the call. Not before scolding you to text Sunghoon.

You wouldn’t. Instead, you shoved his unopened letters inside of a drawer and decided to attend your job’s annual Halloween ball. Something that could help to lift your spirits, dressing up a little, dancing and drinking with your coworkers. Why not?

Heeseung encouraged you and helped you pick out an outfit over video call. Leaving your room a haphazard mess of tops and skirts, all types of tights and fishnets thrown about as you tried on various looks for him. The two of you agreed upon a deep blood red coat you purchased sometime last year at a street market that resembled a cape.

“That should be good enough to cover you up on your way over.” He gulped, nervously taking in the skimpy black minidress you chose. Cut low to enhance your breast shape, the fabric clung to your skin tightly showing off all of your shape.

“Good thing I work with a ton of girls, right baby?” You winked, blowing him a kiss. He pressed in closer to the screen whimpering.

“Send me a lot of pictures?”

“Of course, don’t have too much fun handing out candy without me?”

The two of you chatted for a bit longer before you had to let him go. It was already after 8pm and the party had been well on its way by the time you arrived. Many of your coworkers had been hitting the open bar hard, dragging you onto the dance floor right as you arrived.

Halloween tunes from Monster Mash to Thriller blasted through the speakers and everyone had fun dancing. Exactly what you needed, not some grungy Parisian club filled with men attempting to grope you all night. Just a good spooky time with the closest thing you have to friends in this lonely city.

This lonely city that you could run into just about anyone in.

Brava. Brava. Bravissima.

That jawline, those eyes, his curved lips. You’d recognize him regardless of the mask covering half of his face. He’s standing there across the floor, beneath the balcony creating a shadow down his face. Sharp gaze laser focused on you, unblinking, licking his lips when you finally spot him.

How long has he waited? How did he know, and why.. why is he wearing that.

The world really stops, slows down, becomes mute when you see him. That’s Sunghoon’s power over you and he knows it. Floating across the floor to you, he bows forward. The cufflinks on his wrist gleam, the white gloves covering his hands strike visually in contrast against his black suit. 

And that mask, that mask hiding half of his handsome features. This has to be a joke.

“Phantom.”

“Ah, you did not read my letters.” His tongue clicks, and you’re sure a hint of blush spreads across his one visible cheek. 

“I did.” You stammer, squeezing your eyes shut. “N-not the past few, been busy..”

“Well,” reaching out his hand, he smiles. “Trick or treat?”

“Is this not enough of a trick for you?” You can’t help but sneer, rolling your eyes as you take his hand. “What happened to not stalking me at my place of work?

“I’ll have you know I stayed at this establishment for a month. I was invited because I’m now considered a platinum club member guest.” Sunghoon leads you away from the drunken crowd of girls you’d been amongst all night. Head towards the center of the dance floor, his sharp canines shine under the low lights that scatter about the room. “Didn’t think you’d be here, job requirements I’m guessing?”

“Yeah.” 

Not necessarily, but that’s none of his business.

“Not allowed to bring a plus one?” He questions. Making his true curiosity very clear.

“Felt like doing a girls night.” You shrug, lifting his hand to look over his costume. “So, why this get up?”

“Why not? I’m in Paris. Felt like an appropriate costume.” He shrugs back, cocking his visible eyebrow. “Not a fan?”

“That’s hilarious..” you mutter. Falling in line with him as he leads you to dance. “Me? Not a fan of Phantom of The Opera?”

“Let me guess, you’re my angel of music?” He grins, turning you around. His free hand creeping onto your waist beneath your cape. “The mask I wear?

“Good guess.” Sticking out your tongue at him, you snort. “I’m a vampire, obviously.”

“Ah, well, your fangs seems to be missing tonight.”

“Oh? You must be a human to think so naive.”

“Could always bite me if that’s the case?” His smile widens, bending in closer. “Right on the jugular, suck me dry to the bone.”

“You’re too insufferable to pull off Phantom, you know.” 

Sunghoon can’t stop himself from smiling. He even laughs, pointing out a table nearby. “Join me? I do miss this back and forth with you, you know.”

“My coworkers are waiting for me.” You lie, beginning to turn away.

“Come on, I won’t try anything. Promise.” Holding out his pinky toward you, he nods at the table again. “We can’t chat? Like old time friends?”

“We’ve never been friends, Sunghoon.”

“You’re right, whatever we are is so much worse.” He chuckles. Seemingly amused just to be in your presence. “Please? For a little bit?”

“Fine.” You know better than to give him an inch. Sunghoon only knows how to take more and more, but you can’t deny how human he seems now. Those stupid letters go to you.

“Honestly, had no idea you were a fan.” He holds out his hands in defense. Lips dragging down at the corners. “I thought about being a ghost and the Paris opera ghost came up while I googled. Tell me that’s not too perfect.”

“Well, I’m a big fan.” Easing up around him, you stir a tepid drink around. Mostly nursing it instead of drinking. He has to sit close to hear you as music blares, and you try to ignore how good the cologne he’s wearing smells. “It’s probably weird.”

“No no no! Tell me all about it.” Sunghoon couldn’t look happier to be talking to you. Crossing his arms over his chest proudly, he motions for you to continue. “I’m familiar enough to understand.”

“It’s just a really good romance. A tragic one, but good nonetheless.” You shrug, looking over his costume again. “Maybe I’m a sucker for love triangles.”

“I think I’ve caught onto that.” He snorts. Drinking the last sip of his beverage. “Is it like a team Edward or Jacob thing for you?”

“Pfftt.. don’t compare Phantom to that.”

“Well? You must have been on the good guys side. Raoul, right?” Sunghoon taps his chin. “I mean, you know, he was no Edward if you ask me.”

“Can’t stand Raoul.” You mumble. “He wasn’t really that good of a guy.”

“Pftt, tell me about it.” He scoffs under his breath. Lifting both eyebrows at you. “And Phantom, he’s just one hell of a man, huh?”

“You see, I get it. I understand why it’s only implied that Eric and Christine got it on.” You begin to explain, over-using your hands to distract from how awkward this conversation has become. “But, like—it wasn’t enough.”

Sunghoon grins, eyebrows mockingly bouncing up and down. “You little trollop.”

“Trollop?!” You guffaw, rolling your eyes. “You clearly have got to get back to America.”

“No no, don’t try to change the subject.” Snapping his fingers in your face, he nods for you to continue. “Go on, tell me about how you wanted Gaston Leroux to go into extreme detail about Phantom clapping Miss Daaé’s cheeks.”

“Ugh, it’s not that vulgar.” His smile only increases the more you lie and brush around the topic. Blowing out a long gust of air, you stomp and pretend to whine. How the conversation took a flirty tone is beyond you. “Fine! Fine okay! I dabbled in reading a few erotic Phantom of The Opera novels.”

“Do tell darling.” Sunghoon leans in, highly amused. “Got your shit off to some freaky phan-fiction, did you?”

“You’re seriously annoying.”

“I have to know,” he pouts, humming. “How was it?”

“I mean, Christine..” you trail off, bypassing his gaze. “She never really wanted it, I mean she did. But she didn’t—like she..” the tightness budding in your throat causes you to pause, locking with his gaze. “She did, but she acted differently. He really had to make her his..”

His head tilts, cheek dimpling with an arrogant glimmer in his eyes. “Sounds like my kind of girl.”

“Oh yeah? Since when has your style been the difficult type?”

“Sometimes you need to meet the right one to know what you’re looking for.” 

Sunghoon smiles, nodding toward the exit when you don’t keep the conversation going. “The nights still young, want to check out the Halloween parade?”

No. You shouldn’t, but you want to. So you nod and follow him out, keeping your arms pressed tightly against your sides.

Reading letters was definitely a form of emotional cheating, but this, this had to be worse. And deep down inside you knew after this night that Sunghoon Park would never leave you alone. He’d lurk in the shadows, haunt your dreams, chew away at your heart until he could swallow the last beatz

Maybe the darkness that surrounded him reached out toward you for the hundredth time, and maybe you let him in to finally meet yours.

———————————-

~seven years later~

The Eiffel tower is a magnificent sight at night. Lights glow all over the city, reflecting off of the water around. These days you spend a lot of time simply absorbing, taking in the grandiose landscape. 

When morning comes you sit down with a cup of coffee, decaffeinated tea as of late. Stirring a cube of sugar until it melts with the hot water, and you take a deep breath. Paris is romanticized in the media, in reality it’s nothing too special. What makes the city special is the people. From the different street vendors, cafe owners, angry bike riders shouting curses, the snooty designer brand employees bustling and rushing to work. There are certain quirks to the city of love that at times make you laugh.

Because here you are, reminiscing on these last few years. 

Heeseung had moved back after some time, and you couldn’t have been happier. Taking advantage of the short period of time he had no job, you would venture off to other parts of Europe. Finally visited the Swiss Alps during the Winter season. Everything was as beautiful as you always dreamt of, even more with him by your side.

“What are you thinking about right now?” Deep warmth vibrates against your throat. Pressing soft kisses up the side of your neck, he nips at your ear. Complimenting the diamond earrings he’d gifted you on your last anniversary.

“How much I love it here.”

“Can you believe that you almost left?”

That’s right, the flight to Seattle had even been purchased. Making it all the way to your gate before you broke down and cried. The life you’d made in Paris was everything you ever wanted growing up. And he was everything your heart needed. 

“I don’t think you were ever supposed to move back.” Wrapping around your waist from behind, he flattens you back to his chest. Large hands gently resting on the top of your stomach. “I knew ever since that first time, the way your eyes lit up when you stepped off the plane.”

“I hadn’t even left the airport yet.” You scoff, layering your hands on top of his. The sturdy build of his chest eases some of the weight off of your knees, utilizing his strength to lean against. “And I never wanted to leave after that.”

“That’s why I’m here.” Squeezing your hands, he slides them lower to cup around your protruding stomach. Slowly easing your interlaced fingers beneath your bump. “That’s why we’re here.”

Ah yes, there’s three of you to consider now. 

Now, how did this happen? How did you get here? What do your parents think? 

For one, they don’t know.

‘We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.’ He shrugged, ever the type B personality. He never stressed much about anything the way you did. His only stress ever seemed to be you.

‘We hardly ever see them anyway. A few holidays that they make their way over here. What’s my father going to do? Disown me?’ He spoke arrogantly as ever. Smiling cockily and spinning you into his arms to follow him through the living room when you ran in holding a positive pregnancy test.

You’re not even married.

‘You’re having my baby. It’s about damn time.’

God knows he’s been trying to get you knocked up for months now. And maybe he’s right, you’ve worked despite him insisting he can afford to take care of you without your paychecks. But now seemed like the appropriate time to relax, be a stay at home mother.. buy fancy strollers and baby Chanel ballet flats. If you have a girl, of course.

“You ready darling? I know how much you love to stand out here and admire the pollution but we do have dinner reservations.”

“Do we have time to walk?” You ask hopeful, batting your eyelashes. 

“Ahh—“

“Please?”

He’s been such a hard ass ever since you started showing. Making new rules everyday of what you can and cannot do. “I know it’s not far, I saw the confirmation email.”

Clicking his tongue, he playfully glares at you. Rubbing your stomach. “Can’t ever just let me surprise you, can you?”

“Please? Who knows how much longer I’ll be able to see my own feet, let alone walk without waddling.”

Busting into a smile, he nods and directs you to follow him off of the balcony back inside of the house. First, you have to put on a coat, of course, it’s too chilly outside for you to only walk around in a dress. The baby could catch a cold, that’s what he says while getting your arms into a peacoat.

“Already miss wearing my high heels.” You frown at the flats that have begun to take over your closet. Led down the elevator to exit onto the street. His large hand finds yours, taking slow steps to not rush you. Making more effort with his longer legs to keep a light pace.

“Hey, those are $7000 shoes you have on.” He scoffs, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “They’re cute.”

“Yeah, they’re cute.” You pout, watching your feet walk down the cobblestone toward the center of town. The convenient location of your ridiculously expensive house was prime real estate, located close enough to everything you’d want walking distance to. 

“They’re cute, you’re cuter.”

“Ahh, you little—“

“Hey.” A nervous smile plays on his lips. Coming around to take a few steps ahead of you, he reaches for the front of your coat and stops you. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

“Sunghoon.” You say flatly. Sensing heat climb up your chest despite the crisp night air. “You know I hate when you do this.”

His smile trembles more, biting on his lower lip. “Do you love me?”

“God, I wish I didn’t.” You sigh to hold back a smile. Turning away to not look at how the tip of his nose reddens. The Eiffel towers not too far now, right to your side.. a near perfect spot for..

Him to get down on his knees as he has when you turn back to look at him. 

“I asked you once before if you’d marry me.” His teeth chatter, not from the cold breeze. Blinking at the moisture that rapidly fills his eyes. “You said no.”

“Hoon..”

“And I kept that ring.” The same box from years ago opens up in his hand. The ring he thought screamed your name from the first moment he spotted it in some outrageously priced jewelry store. “I meant what I said back then as much as I do now.”

“You’ve always been crazy.” You manage to say through the wetness filling your throat. Clasping your hands to your face as a sob comes out. 

“Is that why you love me?” Sunghoon’s icy complexion flushes pink. A single tear trickles down his cheek, and his eyebrows scrunch together. Chest beating wildly waiting for you to deny him once again.

“One of the reasons.” You nod, draping one of your hands under your stomach to hold your dress down. “One of many.”

“Do you think that this time, I’ll get the girl?” He asks wearily, holding the ring up. “Will you say yes? Will you spend your life with me?”

“I think that you’ve always had the girl.”

“Good, because I’m nothing without her.” More tears pour down his face. Digging the ring out of the jewelry box, he takes a hold of your hand. 

“Marry me?”

After all of this time, all of this running away, all of these feelings you denied. There is only one answer.

“Yes.”

———————————-

Ever A Never After: Act 2 (2)

⟶ Chapter Summary | Some say fate can be a cruel thing. Yet you never knew how true it was until fate played a hand in your bad luck. Merely moments before your happily ever after, you are suddenly sent out to a weird place. A different world. You wonder if this is a test from fate to see if you are truly deserving of your happy ending, or if perhaps fate wants to show you something else. Something that fate wishes you to learn before you can finally move on to take the next step towards your happiness.

⟶ Title | Ever a Never After (adaptation from Enchanted movie) ⟶ Pairings | Jungkook x female reader; Seokjin x female reader ⟶ Genre | Strangers to lovers!au, Fairy tale retelling!au, Rom-com ⟶ Word count | 16,755 words ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; slow burn, mentions of curses, black magic, misunderstandings, alcohol mention. ⟶ Author’s note | As you may have heard, I had to take a break due to grief, so this took a while to finish editing. Still roughly edited because I couldn’t postpone posting this part a lot longer, but I hope you can still enjoy this. 

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𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 2. 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡 𝔚𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔐𝔞𝔤𝔦𝔠

The first thing you feel when you wake up is the abundance of warmth. 

A similar kind of warmth that usually welcomes you each time you embrace the morning. 

But something is missing. There is no breeze flowing through the window. Not a sound of birds chirping or leaves rustling with the wind. And there is no sound of your grandmother moving downstairs, humming or muttering to herself as she lists the things she needs to do for the day. 

You wish to wake up completely, to see what is wrong. Perhaps the weather is terrible this morning that everything has become so quiet. But your body is weighed down with exhaustion rolling through your body, and your eyes are too heavy for you to open. For the first time, you find no desire to leave your bed, opting to give in to the strong desire to go back to sleep and cuddle deeper into the comforting warmth. 

But then the soreness comes. You can feel it all over you—from your ankles, up to your legs, your back—before the pounding in your head starts. 

“Ow—” You reach up, touching your temple and pressing at the pulsing pain. By moving, you feel the weight of a blanket covering your body and the tight bodice of your dress pressing on your skin. 

You try to stretch, hoping to push away this heavy weariness and force yourself to wake up. Only to find yourself rolling off the bed and falling on the floor with a hard thump. 

“Oh, dear!” 

With a groan, you push yourself up the floor and blink the sleep out of your eyes. And yet, looking around only makes you feel even more confused. 

“Where,” you whisper to yourself as you glance around, “where am I?”

You start to panic. Because this place looks nothing like your bedroom. Pushing away the blanket, you slowly rise to your feet to have a better look around the room. The place that you slept on seems to be the small daybed attached to the window. The curtains are drawn close, but there are still some streaks of sunlight coming through the seams. 

Being so close to the window and covered in a blanket would explain why you were woken up feeling so warm. Looking down, you see yourself in your wedding dress. Seeing how the white has changed colours—something in the mix of grey and muddy beige, thanks to all the dirt, dust, and grime you had gotten on yourself the day before—and the tattered hem looking worse under the lights, everything starts coming back to you again. 

Oh, that’s right, you muse to yourself as you fall back down on the daybed. This is his house. 

Your saviour. 

That was what you called him after he caught you from that replica of the castle. The replica which held no magic at all, unlike the castle which held more magic than you have ever encountered throughout your whole life. You doubt there is even any magic here—perhaps except for the metal carriages that you saw driving down the roads without horses and the lights that came from the buildings and towers you saw last night. 

You look down and wiggle your toes. The pretty heels that you worn for the wedding had been soiled so badly and your ankles were strained with over-tiredness that it took Ah-ri’s help to get it off your feet. Your cheeks grow warm as you recall how the little girl fussed over them, and then how she nearly cried when she saw how swollen your feet had become, making you feel embarrassed just thinking about it.

Accepting your new reality, you look around once again, taking in the room. There is not much furniture placed here, but the bedroom looks luxurious and cosy, and it makes you feel safe. Aside from the daybed, there is a bed right in front of you—which you have apparently missed when you first came into the room. It seems bigger than the bed that you have at home, covered in fresh sheets in the colour of soft pink. The wooden frame and the bedrest are painted white, unlike your bed at home which is made of oak and left without any paint. Two bedside tables are set on either side of the bed, each one adorned with small lamps that were left unlit. You are curious to see their odd shapes, even more so when you realise that they don’t resemble any of the oil lamps you have normally seen at home. 

There are two doors attached to the room. One was the door from which you entered the room, while the other, a much smaller one which is left ajar, shows you the inside of an empty closet. Glancing at the bed, you find a pile of clothes placed on top of it. They are quite strange looking, you realise, as you take a look closer. Not a dress nor a shirt, but two pieces of clothing items that feel soft under the tips of your fingers when you reach out to touch them. 

The change of clothes, you wonder with a smile, recalling what your saviour said about providing you with something to change into once you are out of your ruined dress. I suppose I fell asleep last night before changing.

And your saviour had chosen to let you rest. Could it have been your saviour who left the blanket behind? To keep you warm, perhaps? 

Imagining the kind man who smiled at you warmly last night when he welcomed you into his home makes your heart flutter. The warmth that you felt when you woke up returns, only it feels softer, growing from inside your chest before expanding all over your body. 

Unfolding the clothes, you simply tilt your head, not sure how you are going to change out of this tight dress and into these—confusing-looking pieces of clothing. Thinking about how to get out of the dress only reminds you of the morning when you first had to put it on. You had the help of your grandmother and your little friends to be able to put on this dress properly without ruining the delicate details on the skirt and the trails. 

Sighing to yourself, you decide not to wallow in regret or sadness, and choose to embrace your day instead. 

After laying out the pieces of clothing—the top, the bottom trousers, and the fluffy towel—on the bed, you return to the window, opening the curtains to allow more sunlight in and get a view of the outside world. 

Everything looks different in the morning compared to the night before. The bright, sparkling lights are no longer visible, but there are still colourful ornaments that appear in some places, and you can finally get to see the beach more clearly. Everything aside from the beachside and the ocean looks like nothing more but tiny dots from the distance, but it is such an amazing sight to see, as you don’t normally get to see the widespread ocean and its glowing white sand back home as much as you wanted to. 

The sun is bright and warm, with no trace of the rain which had fallen during the toughest time you had to endure. 

At least the rain was quite refreshing, you wonder as you recall feeling as if everything that was unsettling you the other day—the fear of not being able to return home, feeling lost and powerless after finding yourself stranded in a strange land—all melted the moment you felt the rain drops falling all over you.

You smile at the thought of breathing in the scents of fresh soil and damp leaves that you often find through the forest or drifting into your bedroom after rainfalls, and you cannot help but think about the comfort that you often find from it. 

A spark of idea comes to your mind right away. Maybe if I can just—

Finding the lock on the window, you unlatch it and pry the window open, allowing the morning breeze to come in. You hope that breathing in the fresh air might help you feel more refreshed. But you immediately find that you have made the wrong decision, as taking in a deep breath only causes you to have a coughing fit. 

“Oh, my!” you gasp, taking a step back to get away from the foul air. The air you breathed is too dry, filled with dust and smoke and not a single hint of the fresh air that you would normally enjoy in the morning. It takes a while before you get used to it, before you finally smell the ocean breeze that is beginning to drift in. 

“Well, I suppose things are a bit—different here,” you muse with a sigh, noticing how sparse the trees are around the house.

Furrowing your brows, you notice how restricted it feels to be in your dress, the fabric has been growing heavier as it has gotten dirty, and your body feels to be covered in grime. The warm breeze isn’t helping either, as it only escalates the discomfort that you are feeling. You feel the desire to strip out of the dress to feel better, yet you doubt that you can get out of the dress on your own. 

Once again, your mind wanders to your little friends. Your companions and loyal helpers who would always come to help whenever you are in need. 

“Is there someone you can call—?” 

You recall what your saviour said last night about calling someone from home. You only realise now that you haven’t even tried calling to see if it would work at all. Trying to be positive despite your circumstances, you look up to the sky and wonder if your voice can reach someone from back home—your animal friends from the forest, perhaps—so they will be able to know where you are. 

You have done it once when you sang in the forest one day and birds came to you, answering your call and singing along to your song. 

Won’t it happen again now, if you try it? 

“Maybe if I sing something loud and sincere enough, then the little birds will be able to hear me. Maybe they will hear my call,” you wonder out loud, reassuring yourself before doubt ever has the chance to sink in. “That’s right. Let’s try it. It won’t hurt to try and call them.” 

Taking a deep inhale of breath, avoiding to breathe in the smoke and dust this time, you muster some energy to sing, calling your lovely friends that might be able to help. With your heart beating in your chest, hope blooming, you begin to sing. 

“Good morning, friends, it's a brand new day…

With friends beside us, we’ll find our way…”

Wind blows, warmth filters through the window, the faint sound of the waves reaches you, yet there is nothing else returning your song. 

“Together we’ll share the morning light…

Hand in hand, everything feels right…”

You refuse to give up, believing that all you ever need is patience. Perhaps if your friends won’t be able to hear you, some new friends would, and they can help you find a way to solve your problems, to help you find the way back home. 

“Good morning, good morning, the day’s begun…

Together we’ll shine, our hearts as one…”

The loud sound of a horn from one of those metallic carriages blares through the air, shocking you, sending you falling back to the daybed. Your heart is still racing as you sit there in silence, hearing the faint sound of the carriage driving down the road below. You wait for a moment longer, drowning in silence. 

Then another moment passes, and you still hear no answer to your song. 

“I knew it. Nobody can hear me calling them from here,” you murmur to yourself, having no choice but to accept reality. 

They say magic is so powerful that it can reach anyone no matter the obstacle. But your magic clearly has no power here. Your voice and your song cannot reach anyone—far and near—to give you the answer you need. 

You look up at the sky with despair. A day has passed until you encounter a new morning, and you are still stranded in this strange land. Still with no sign or hope that you might be able to return home. 

Leaning back in the daybed, you rest against the window as any hope you ever had begins to wither. The breath you exhale is soft. Weary. Lonely.

You miss the sounds of the forest—the birdsongs echoing through the thickets welcoming the rise of mornings, the loud chitters coming from your little forest friends as they greet you at the start of the day, the rustling leaves and swaying branches at the first morning breeze, and the soft humming voice of your grandmother as she paces out into the garden to tend to her flowers and crops. 

Here, the sound of waves coming from the fair distance is calming, yet it still feels foreign to your ears. And there are too many other foreign sounds that your mind is having a hard time processing still; the voices from the crowd of people in the streets and the beach not too far away that are too loud this early in the morning; the rumbling sounds of the metal carriages going up and down the cobalt-grey roads, always accompanied by those god-awful sounds of horns blowing through the soiled air. 

A wince comes from you when another sound of a horn blows through the morning from somewhere far away, followed by shouts and bellows of laughter. A reminder of how strange this place is. Thinking about it makes you feel so hollow inside.

You miss your forest friends.

You miss your grandmother.

You miss home.

And when you close your eyes, you realise how much you miss seeing the Prince. And it scares you to realise that you are having a hard time remembering the beautiful smile that he gave you the last time you met.

Shaking your head, you refuse to lose hope. There might still be a chance for you to find your way home, slim though it may seem. 

Opening your eyes, you look out into the distance, at the ocean that is glowing under the sun. In silence, you promise yourself to hold on to the last sliver of hope that you feel as tightly as you can, refusing to give up so easily. 

You promise yourself that you will find a way home. Back home to your family. Back to your Prince. 

To your happily ever after. 

Downstairs, Ah-ri has been humming her own tune as she is helping her father prepare breakfast. At the sound of your voice, she immediately stops—both the singing, and the little hands that have been working to mix the pancake batter—and looks up with a gasp. 

“Did you hear that, Daddy?” She turns to Seokjin, smiling wide. “The Princess is singing.” 

Seokjin stops to listen, and sure enough, he can hear the faint sound of someone singing from upstairs. Creasing his brows, Seokjin quickly recognises it as your voice and begins wondering if this is another quirky thing of yours. To be singing about the morning when you had just woken up. 

Shaking his head, Seokjin silently chastises himself for bringing this upon himself. He only sighs and forces a smile as he turns away from the coffee machine to look at his daughter. “I hear it. Why don’t you stay here and I’ll go check on our guest to see if she’s ready for breakfast?” 

“But I want to see,” Ah-ri complains, pouting. She knows that she can easily melt Seokjin’s heart when she does this, but he forces himself to ignore it for once and shakes his head. 

“You can have her sing for you later,” he convinces Ah-ri and strokes her hair when she begins sulking. “Besides, you have some work to do, don’t you?” He points at the mixing bowl in her hands and says, “Keep mixing the batter so we can have the pancake done soon.”  

“Fine,” she says, huffing. “But remember, you promised.” 

“I promise,” Seokjin says with a chuckle. He playfully ruffles Ah-ri’s hair to tease her before heading up the stairs, following the sound of your voice that is slowly beginning to make him feel warm inside, for reasons he cannot understand. 

Soon, the singing stops. He can faintly hear you murmuring to yourself, and he doesn’t have to see you to know that your singing didn’t help you feel ecstatic about the morning. 

Standing by the door, Seokjin comes to a halt. He suddenly feels hesitant to knock. It doesn’t even matter if this is his home, and you are simply a guest. He can sense that you are having a moment and he hates having to break it. 

But Ah-ri is waiting downstairs, and he knows that she will be hungry soon. And if he wants to hear the full story from you, this will be the right time to pry it out of you. If cannot do it himself, then perhaps Ah-ri would be able to do it later once she sees you. He has noticed how you seem to have a soft spot for his daughter so quickly right after you met her, so he knows that he can put that to his advantage. 

Noticing the silence in the room, Seokjin takes a deep breath, counts to three, and then knocks the door gently. “Hello? Is everything okay?” 

He hears a faint sigh from the other side of the door before your voice is heard. “Yes, everything is fine.” 

Soft, small, and delicate. Seokjin has never heard such a voice, and he never felt such a strong urge to protect and calm someone so badly as he does now upon hearing such a voice. He shakes his head and laughs at himself, wondering how it is possible for him to care for someone so much, when he had just met you. 

Clearing his throat, he calls out when you make no move to open the door for him. “Can I come in?” 

“Oh,” you sound surprised. He hears shuffling voices from the room, followed by a soft thud, just as you answer, “Yes, of course. Please, come on.” 

Seokjin carefully opens the door and finds you sitting—on the floor. The skirt of your dress are outspread around you, making it seem as if you are drowning in the fabric. The flustered look you are showing tells him more than he needs to know.

“Why are you on the floor?” he asks, stiffing a chuckle, picturing how you must have slipped or tripped in your own dress when you tried to open the door for him. 

“Oh, nothing,” you nervously laugh, “Just relaxing and enjoying the morning.” 

“I see,” he says, nodding. His eyes find the pile of clothes he left on the bed. All stretched out over the still made-up bed. “You’ve found the clothes,” he says as he reaches out, offering his hand to help you back up to your feet. You mutter a soft, “Thank you,” before he asks again, “Do you have a problem changing out of that dress?” 

You look startled, and Seokjin cannot resist the smile on his face. “I have a daughter who loves wearing princess dresses every now and then, so I know how hard it is to get out of them. Especially one as intricate as the one you’re wearing.” 

You look away with a shy smile but slowly nod. “Yes, I was, but I think I can figure it out somehow.” Looking down at yourself, at your tattered dress, you visibly grimace. “Forgive me for looking unpresentable, I am not quite myself at the moment.” 

Seokjin nods. “Would you like to take a bath first? Ah-ri and I are preparing breakfast downstairs. It’s our—we always have breakfast together in the morning and I was going to ask you to join us, but you can take your time to clean up first so you’ll feel more comfortable.” 

“Yes, please,” you answer with a relieved sigh. “I can’t even remember the last time I had a proper meal, or have any kind of food at all,” you muse with a chuckle, which only worries Seokjin further. “But I do feel like I must clean up before getting any food. It wouldn’t be proper of me to join you and the little princess if I am in such a mess.” 

Seokjin’s lips curl to a smile. “There’s a joint bathroom in this floor, and it’s small, so you’ll be sharing with my daughter. Is that all right with you?” 

“That would be lovely.” 

Nodding, Seokjin reaches down to help carry your change of clothes for you and guides you out of the bedroom. The bathroom is right across the corridor, lodged between the stairs leading to the upper floor and Ah-ri’s bedroom.

“Here you go,” Seokjin says as he opens the door to the small bathroom, ushering you in. 

He stays at the doorway as you step inside the bathroom, eyes wide as you take a look around. 

As you stand at the center of the room, the bathroom almost looks like a tight squeeze. Your wedding dress and your entire presence taking up the space in Seokjin’s eyes, something that he finds amusing. He follows your gaze, trying to see the room through your eyes.

The light beige coloured tiles on the center wall used to make this room feel vibrant, a vintage look that made it appear fancy in his less than humble home. Against your white dress—despite it being soiled and slightly losing its perfection—the colour on the wall looks muted and dull. 

On your right, stands the narrow shower box. The tainted glass door is fairly new, recently replaced from the old vintage one that came with the house when Seokjin first bought the place. Right next to it is the small, old-fashioned tub, standing on claw feet rising from the floor; the only piece that remained from the place, only because Ah-ri has grown fond of it. 

The size is enough to fit the little girl, hopefully until she is a teenager, but not big enough to fit the entire length of his body. Looking at it now, he worries that it might be a bit too tight fit for you should you need to lie in it to relax. Probably just enough for you to sit in with your knees tucked to your chest, which Seokjin cannot imagine it to be comfortable for you. 

The sink is on your left, standing from one wall to the other. A white porcelain sink over a wooden cabinet, with jars and bottles of beauty products that Ah-ri has always insisted to keep in stock for unexpected guests. Your gaze rises to the mirror above the sink—the circular fixture with a golden frame, one that Seokjin found in a vintage shop to fill the room with—and a sharp gasp leaves your lips. 

“Oh, my,” you cry out, looking pained at the sight of your own reflection. 

“Why? What’s wrong?” 

“I—oh ,dear.” You start to panic and look away. “Forgive me, Sir. I wasn’t aware that I’ve been looking so improper. This is—oh, heavens, how embarrassing.” 

Biting his smile, Seokjin breathes a sigh of relief. He had, for a moment, thought that you may have seen something so awful, or feel pained. It might sound bad to laugh, yet he is thankful that you are simply shocked after looking at what kind of state you have been in. 

“It’s fine. Anyone else would’ve been in the same condition if they had experienced what you’ve been through. You said it yourself that it was a long day yesterday,” Seokjin reassures you, until you visible grow more relax. “Take your time to wash up. I’m sure you’ll feel better once you get all those dirt and grime off your skin.” 

Your eyes follow him as Seokjin moves to place your change of clothes by the sink, before you turn to look at the bathtub across the room. Seeing that you appear wary, Seokjin feels bad. “The bath is small in here, but you can use my bathroom if you want to use it and soak in, it’s in—” 

You cut him with a wave of your hand. “No, that is quite all right. Just as long as I can clean up. I’ve already given you too much trouble, I don’t want to intrude.” Brushing your hands down your skirt, you gently add, “I don’t think it would be proper of me to lie in a bath and soak on my first day, especially when I am to be expected on your breakfast table.” 

“It’s fine, really,” Seokjin says with a smile. “But if you insist, then you can use the shower to wash up for now.” 

“The shower?” You raise your eyebrows, and it takes Seokjin a moment before realising that you may not have a standing shower where you are from. 

“Oh, let me help you,” Seokjin carefully slips inside and opens the shower box. “Here, this is the shower, and you can clean up right here. Let me show you how you can get the water running. I’ve set it up to get the water warm right away, but you can turn it to cold or hot this way,” he says, before he gently explains to you the way to use the shower tap, twisting the tap one way to the other so you can have an idea what to do with it. 

He steps back once he is done so you can slip inside. “You can use the products by the sink if you need to. My daughter always reminds me to stack them up in case her aunts or uncles come by.” 

You turn to the sink table, looking up at the mirror. Though you are no longer looking at yourself with wide, terrified eyes, there is still a strain in your gaze. A weary look that worries Seokjin further. He wishes to take it away, but he knows that this is all that he can do for you to help. 

“This place,” you ask with a soft voice, “This isn’t Andalasia, is it?” Your voice cracks, and Seokjin feels as if there is a crack inside his chest that is forming just as deep as your pain when he hears it. He sees it in your eyes when you look up at him to ask, “What did you call this place again?” 

“LA,” Seokjin says, his voice faltering when he sees the light in your eyes growing dim. Dimmer. With more shadows filling your gaze. “Los Angeles”—he clears his throat—”and to answer your question, no, this isn’t Andalasia, and the place that you’re looking for may not have come from anywhere near where we are.” 

“I see,” you whisper, and Seokjin can almost see some tears forming at the corner of your eyes. He opens his mouth and takes a step forward, falling prey to the urge to comfort you, to calm you, to heal, anything, when Ah-ri’s voice drifts across the house from the kitchen.

“Daddy! The batter is ready,” she shouts from the kitchen downstairs, “should I heat up the pan? Do you want me to start making the pancakes?” 

Seokjin grimaces. You blink, and the shadow of your tears fades when you smile softly at the sound of his little girl. He sighs in relief. 

“I should go and check on her before she burns our breakfast,” Seokjin says with a nervous chuckle, stepping outside of the bathroom. But his footsteps feel heavy, almost as if his own body is fighting against him, refusing to leave you be. “I take it you can deal with everything from here? Or should I get Ah-ri up here to help you get out of that?” 

You look at him for a moment, confused, as if you have no idea what he is talking about—or perhaps you are still stuck in the sad thought bothering you after accepting that you are far from home—until your hands fall on your skirt. “Oh, that’s right,” you softly gasp, a soft giggle slips out of you as you shyly look up to him. “That’s quite all right, I think I should figure this out myself. I shouldn’t trouble you or the little princess for such a small thing. But thank you for offering, and thank you so much for your help.” 

Seokjin nods, lips curling up to a smile, relieved and reassured after hearing the sound of your soft laughter. “Come down the stairs once you’re ready and join us for breakfast.” 

“The princess is taking so long.”  

Ah-ri has been glancing back at the clock for a while now, ever since Seokjin heard the sound of water running from the bathroom upstairs. The little girl has insisted on waiting for you to come down before diving into her meal, yet Seokjin can tell that she is growing impatient. Pouting, Ah-ri crosses her arms over her chest and glares at her father. “Are you sure you did well showing her around the bathroom?”

Surprised, Seokjin starts laughing, which only makes the girl pout even more. Shaking his head, he finds himself amazed at how the girl always acts as if she is older than her age. He cannot help but find this adorable, but he would never dare say it to her face. Not when she’s acting as if she’s taking control. Like an adult would. 

“Of course, I did, sweetheart,” he says, as he crosses his own arms to mimic the little girl, challenging her, “Are you trying to teach your Dad how to treat the guest?” 

“You didn’t even want to take her home last night,” Ah-ri complains, scoffing, “if you did a good job hosting the princess, then why is she not coming down yet? The meal is getting cold, and I want to listen to her stories.” 

Seokjin lets out a chuckle as he points at Ah-ri’s plate which she prepared herself, filled with pancakes and slices of strawberries and honey on top—her favourite meal. “I told you to start eating if you’re hungry. You didn’t have to wait.” 

“But I want to eat with the princess,” the girl whines, and Seokjin has no other choice but to give in.

Seokjin takes another sip of his coffee before rising from his seat, “Why don’t I go up there and see if she’s ready for breakfast?” He picks up an empty plate and hands it over to the girl. “You stay here and plate the food for our special guest, okay?” 

“’Kay!” 

Soon, the sulking girl is busy setting up a plate of breakfast for you, with a wide grin on her face and soft humming of a tune coming out of her lips. It sounds a bit similar to what you were singing earlier when Seokjin heard you got up, and he wonders if it’s something that you or Ah-ri had heard once from one of those Disney remake movies. 

He is halfway up the stairs when the doorbell rings, echoing through his home. 

“Damn it,” he groans. Just who in their right mind would come knocking this early in the morning? He wonders. And on the weekends too? 

Before he gets to turn back and head towards the door, he hears the quick stomping downstairs as Ah-ri runs across the ground floor while shouting loudly, “It’s okay, Daddy. I’ll get it!” 

Seokjin doesn’t respond and continues to walk up the stairs. He notices that the shower has stopped running, but the bathroom door is still closed shut. There is a faint shadow of white mist from the hot shower still slipping out of the bottom of the door, so he knows that you are probably still there. 

He gently knocks just as he hears Ah-ri opening the front door. The muted sound of her voice talking to whoever was on the other side of it fades to the background when he hears soft shuffling sounds coming from inside the bathroom. 

This seems familiar, he wonders to himself as he recalls this morning incident. “______? Are you still in there? Do you need any help?” 

Another shuffling is heard, before your muffled voice calls out. “No, I’m okay. I’ll be right out.” 

The next thing he hears is the sound of your footsteps, and for some reason, he begins expecting the sound of a thud, anything that may indicate you falling. Again. Smiling, he steps back from the door just as it opens and you emerge from the bathroom. 

The mix of floral scent of the shampoo and the bath soap you used hits him straight in the face that he becomes flustered, barely coherent enough to speak. “Hey, how was the shower?” 

Your wide smile appears at the sound of his voice. “Oh, it was marvellous,” you excitedly share as you walk closer to him, “The water felt nice. You have no idea how good it feels to—” 

Just as you are rushing towards him, the length of the sweatpants you are now wearing—one that Seokjin realises to late to be too long for you—stretches down, causing you to trip over when the tips of your toes get stuck on the hem. “Oh, goodness!” 

Out of instinct, Seokjin immediately rushes to catch you, only for him to fall back. The air is kicked out of his chest as he falls on his back, a deep grunt leaves his mouth when he is hit by your body weight when you fall on top of him. 

“I’m so sorry!” you gasp. You try to push yourself up, but Seokjin’s hands find your waist when he feels you falling backward, stopping you before you get hurt. Opening his eyes, he becomes more aware of the situation; how you are now straddling over his stomach, with your legs parted on either side of him; your palms pressing on his chest; your hair falling down, framing your face; his hands resting easily on your waist. 

Something about this situation feels compromising, yet his mind is having trouble processing over the shock that his body grows still. The sound of his rapid heartbeat is so loud, drowning the sound of footsteps rushing up the stairs until someone screams across the hallway.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

Seokjin turns his head, and grits his teeth. Standing at the end of the hallway is Kira, his girlfriend who has gone missing for the past 24 hours. Her eyes are glaring, her face growing red with rage, and he knows that he has a lot of explaining to do. 

A lot of it.

You close your eyes, trying to shut everything down. 

And when it doesn’t work, you try to shut your ears. But the noises are too loud. The wall standing between you and the two people shouting at each other in the other room barely helps drown the noises, and your hands aren’t doing much to help either. 

“Princess, are you okay?” 

A small voice tries to pierce through your thoughts, through your senses that are working hard to block the noises. 

There are so many things in this place—this new world—that are completely new to you. So many, that your mind is struggling to protect you from them. You cannot see what is happening in the other room, but the voice of your kind saviour has suddenly changed. He still sounds calm and gentle, but his voice has grown tight and tense, just like one of those times when Poppy got stuck between small branches while she was up to pluck some apples for you and your grandmother.

Annoyance. 

Yes, that was the word that she used to describe it. She said most little animals feel that way when they are in peril, or when a larger animal comes to them bringing danger and instilling fear. 

But the lady who came earlier when you tripped and fell—causing your saviour to fall back when he was trying to catch your fall—reminds you of something else. Her voice is loud, enough to hurt your ears, just like those dark-cloaked figures you saw back when you were a little girl, slipping into the crowd with Nana to watch an incident which happened downtown. You remember watching those figures speaking with loud voices, screaming, as they were dragged in by the Queen’s knights into Castle Andalasia to be punished for eternity. 

“Bad witches hurt your parents. You best stay away from them.” 

A cold shiver runs through your body, just as your mind is shaken by a part of your childhood memory which you had somehow forgotten. You feel like running, only that you have no idea where to run to. 

“Is everything okay, Princess?” Ah-ri asks again, and her small voice finally breaks through to you, shutting everything completely. 

You blink, and all the bad images fade, replaced with the little girl’s pretty face and her wide eyes. “Oh.” A soft gasp leaves your lips, realising too late that you have made the little princess worried about you. After your fall, Seokjin asked you to wait for him in the dining room with Ah-ri while he tends to his guest, yet you have been feeling too disturbed to be speaking to the girl and acting like good company. It makes you feel guilty, so you quickly muster a smile. 

“Yes”—you nervously laugh—”I’m quite all right.” 

Ah-ri looks at you without a word. It is quite obvious that the little girl doesn’t believe you. Her eyes are filled with worry, until realisation seems to dawn on her when the noises echoing through the house begin to subside and she finally understands. Looking over her shoulder, Ah-ri lets out a deep sigh. “Daddy is always mad when Kira is here.” 

Mad? You look at Ah-ri, unable to understand the word. What does that mean? 

But hearing the word only brings up a different memory from when you were little. You can almost hear Nana’s voice from back then, when she apologetically said, “I’m not mad at you, my sweet angel.”

You never understood the expression and what it meant, and you cannot even remember why your grandmother would say something like that. But any thought of the past fades when silence suddenly falls in the house. The air quickly changes when Seokjin and the lady stop talking. It feels peaceful enough to make you feel calmer, allowing you to breathe a sigh of relief. 

“Is Kira a friend?” 

Ah-ri furrows her brows and shakes her head. “She’s not my friend. Daddy calls her ‘a special friend’ but I know that it means she’s his girlfriend, even if he won’t admit it.” 

“A—special friend?” 

The little girl nods. “Yes, that’s what—” 

The sound of footsteps coming closer to the dining room cuts her off. You turn as Seokjin enters the room, the lady—his guest—walking close behind. She is looking down when she enters, partially hiding her face, yet you can still see the frown on her face—a look that makes you feel uncomfortable—which fades the moment she lifts her face. 

“I’m sorry to keep your girls waiting,” Seokjin apologises the moment he arrives. His kind smile remains the same, even when he looks slightly exhausted. “_______, I’m sorry. You must’ve been surprised. This is Kira. She didn’t mean to yell at you earlier.” 

The lady who is with him, Kira, throws a quick glance at Seokjin with a sharp look that brings back a cold shiver on your skin. Worrying that it might frighten Seokjin or the little girl, you immediately rise from your seat and offer your hand to her. Something tells you that you should start apologising so you can fix the situation.  

“Hello, my name is ______. I’m sorry for all of this. I truly never meant to intrude, but I promise I’m not here to cause any trouble,” you nervously explain. Kira doesn’t show much reaction until you carefully add, “Mr. Seokjin here is only helping until I can find my way home. I promise it won’t be long. I do have a wedding to get back to.” 

Kira’s eyes grow wide at the mention of a wedding. She opens her mouth to speak, only to have Ah-ri interrupt her by saying, “_______ is my guest, Aunt Kira.”

The look in Kira’s eyes softens when she looks at Ah-ri, and it remains that way when she looks at you. “Right. That’s fine. Jin explained to me everything and, um—” She turns to Ah-ri. “Ari,” she gently says, with a cooing tone that people normally use to speak to a baby, which draws Ah-ri’s brows to crease deeply. “I’m so sorry I missed your recital yesterday. I came bearing gifts and hoping that maybe I could make it up to you with an ice cream date. What do you say?” 

You look down as Kira reaches out, handing out some gifts which you failed to notice earlier; a small bouquet of white flowers; a small box that carries a sweet scent, like chocolate; and a small bundle wrapped in red paper. Ah-ri looks hesitant and glances at her father before finally accepting the gifts. 

“Thank you,” she murmurs softly as she takes the small trinkets in her tiny hands. “I think I want to stay home with ________,” she says, her eyes flicking towards you. “But thank you for the flowers.” 

Kira looks a bit sad, making you feel even more guilty. Before you can do anything to cheer her up, Seokjin seems to notice and gently rubs Kira’s back. “Why don’t you stay and join us for breakfast?” Seokjin offers her, and for a moment, Kira appears to be considering it. 

“That’s okay. I was actually planning to invite you guys for breakfast, and then get ice cream with Ari later,” Kira explains with a smile. “I was also hoping that you can join me and my friends today. They’ll be around for a few days and I offered them a tour—” 

“That’s so sudden,” Seokjin quickly says, his voice reminds you of the ‘annoyance’ you felt from him earlier. “You can see that I have a guest and it would be hard to find someone to watch Ari so suddenly. On the weekend, no less. You’re not expecting her to join you and your friends, are you?” Seokjin shakes his head. “You should know no by now that making sudden plans like this doesn’t always work.” 

Kira suddenly bursts out laughing. “Don’t hate people for knowing how to have fun,” she teases Seokjin, yet there is something in her voice that makes you tense. It quickly disappears when the lady exhales deeply. “I better go,” she says, turning to Ah-ri. “I’ll see you Monday when I drive you to school?” 

“Yeah, okay,” Ah-ri mutters, barely loud enough for everyone to hear, but it doesn’t seem to matter for Kira as she already has her focus on you. 

“I guess we’ll see each other again?” 

“Oh, yes. Perhaps,” you try to say, only for Kira not to notice as she is already turning on her heels.

“No need to walk me out. I know my way,” she says without looking over her shoulder, and everyone can only look on as she continues making her way to the front door.  

Seokjin shakes his head, again, and you wonder why he keeps looking more and more exhausted as time passes. “I’m sorry for showing you such an unpleasant sight so early in the morning.” He gives you a small smile. “Come, let’s have breakfast. I hope you like pancakes and waffles. Those are Ari’s favourites.” 

You glance at Ah-ri as she finishes putting away the gifts that she received and setting them up on a cabinet nearby. “I’m up for anything that the little princess helped make.” 

Your words seem to cheer the little girl, who immediately takes your hand and starts pulling back to your seat. “Do you like fruit or berries? I asked Daddy to buy some strawberries yesterday, and—”  

Seokjin stands in the hall between the dining room and the foyer, feeling like his entire body, mind, and soul are being split into two. Never before had he ever felt this exhausted. Never once had he ever experienced anything that would make him feel like losing his strength and wishing that he could shut everything down at the same time. 

Not even the long hours he spent working at the firm, either handling tough clients or delving into difficult cases, has ever made him feel so drained.    

He watches Ah-ri pulling you away, back to the dining table. Her cheerful voice as she rambles on about the breakfast that she helped make fills the room, yet his mind keeps replaying the argument he had with Kira just moments ago. 

“Are you fucking cheating on me?” 

Was it really wrong for Seokjin to laugh the moment he heard such an accusation? 

He wanted to remain calm, knowing that there was no point for him to respond with anger. But it was so hard to think clearly when he was still vexed after Kira bailed on them last night.

“Cheating? Me?” he had responded once he pulled Kira away, preventing Ah-ri from hearing her cursing and yelling, something that he already expected Kira would do. And the last thing he wanted was to fight right in front of his little girl and their guest. “That’s rich coming from someone who went missing without any news for the past 24 hours.” 

“Why are you turning this on me?” 

“Where were you?” 

It felt like talking to a wall, or a volcano, he really couldn’t decide which, when his question only led to a more explosive reaction from Kira. It was a miracle that he was able to remain calm through it all. Barely, but at the very least, he was able to keep his voice down. He couldn’t stop the surging anger, however, so his voice remained tense the entire time he kept responding to Kira. 

And the explanation she gave him did nothing to alleviate his exasperation. It only made things worse. 

“Our office is hosting a group of independent artists from Europe, as you very well know—” 

Seokjin didn’t enjoy hearing the mocking tone in her voice. And yes, he very well knew what was going on. He knew that the production house that Kira is working on is currently hosting guests from Europe; stage artists who are performing their work here in LA through the whole season. He knew because Kira wouldn’t stop talking about them ever since they arrived here a month ago. He shouldn’t have been surprised to know that these ‘guests’ of hers would be the reason she was cancelling their plan. 

It wouldn’t be the first. But at least she had always remembered to let him know about it before she did instead of ditching on him and ghosting them the way she did yesterday. 

“They wanted to watch some shows while they’re on cooldown Friday night, so we took them to watch a musical, then we went to watch a live show at the club—”

Seokjin could already tell where this was going before she even continued, “We went drinking after, and one of the artists said he wanted to see other parts of LA, so when Alex”—she mentioned her co-worker, the one that Seokjin has always felt to be some kind of a nuisance—”mentioned that he has a villa on Catalina Island and offered to take everyone there with his boat. We crashed at Alex’s place after and went first thing in the morning. I guess I passed out during the night after drinking, and—”  

Seokjin cannot remember what went through his head at the time other than finding this entire situation ridiculous. 

This? She broke her promise and avoided my calls and messages for this? 

He let out an incredulous laugh instead of yelling back at her, even when he already felt like he was about to explode himself. 

“What? Are you going to accuse me of cheating now? Because if you’re going to—” 

He almost screamed then. But he was so angry that he barely reacted at all. There was a moment when he nearly said that the possibility of her cheating didn’t matter to him. He didn’t even care if she did. Because there was only one thing that mattered to him at that moment. 

“You broke your promise to Ari.” The moment those words were said, Kira’s ire seemed to cool down. As if she finally remembered where she went wrong. 

“At which part during your hosting your guests, getting drunk, agreeing to join them boating and going to the island, and crashing at your friend’s place for the night, did you ever think or remember about the promise you made to me and Ari? By which point did it ever occur to you to call or message us to cancel or at least tell me that you were alive?” Kira said nothing to defend or to explain herself. But at least she had the decency to show a bit of shame. “And you were the one who insisted to try and bond with her before I even agreed to get her involved between us.” 

Just as he was seeing the fight leaving Kira the moment she heard his questions, his own fight declined. 

Thinking about it now, Seokjin realises why he feels so drained. 

Kira has always been more free-spirited than he ever was, and that was what had drawn him to her in the first place. Where Seokjin was meticulous and strict, Kira has always been more spontaneous. She always had new ideas to try, finding new things to do and jump into. Before, Seokjin would always envy her for being able to be so free, when he constantly felt like he was living under a restraint that kept him from enjoying the world. When his reality kept him from enjoying life. 

Being with Kira had taught him how to let loose once in a while, to have fun, to experience something new. And he loved having her in his life for that reason.   

Now, however, her spontaneous acts have become the source of his frustration. This wouldn’t be the first time for her to disappear without news because she decided to go someplace or do something completely unplanned, or for her to change her mind after making a decision, and it has been getting hard for Seokjin to keep up. 

It is beginning to feel as if they are going at a different pace, heading towards different paths, that he is bound to remain at one place while she would go all over the place. 

This was what came across his mind during the fight, when he suddenly realised that things hadn’t been the same between both of them. It hadn’t been for a while, but he was just too stubborn to see it.

“I didn’t—” Seokjin remembers her muttering those words. Only those words. “I’m sorry.” 

“Daddy, your coffee is getting cold, you know.” 

Ah-ri’s voice snaps him out of it. As if he is doused by cool water, the bleakness of the situation is lifted, his mind is cleared, and all he sees is his little girl. To see her smile and laughter, and her wide, glowing eyes as she excitedly explains to you about the food that she prepared for you. She looks proud of herself the moment you praise her for helping in the kitchen, which only pushes her to brag even more.

Seeing this thaws everything inside him; his cold rage, his weariness, and the dreadful conversation which he still needs to have with his wayward partner. 

Chuckling softly, Seokjin shakes everything away, putting the fight, Kira, and the questions he still has about his relationship to the back burner as he joins his little girl and her mysterious princess at the breakfast table before they can start the day. 

Meanwhile, back in Andalasia…

Sir Noah feels uneasy. He hadn’t been truly pleased about this whole conundrum. Hating to be at the center of it, shackled with the secrets that he is required to keep, Sir Noah feels like his entire world is slowly slipping out of his control. 

He debates with his own conscious as he watches Prince Jungkook walking back and forth in the war room. With a gaze so distant, his brows furrowed, and his lips curled to a frown, Prince Jungkook shows him an emotion that is rare for someone like him to display. An emotion much alike to the Queen’s when she is displeased. 

But Sir Noah knows exactly why the Prince is acting in such a way, so he cannot fault him for doing so. 

Prince Jungkook is worrying about the maiden who disappeared. 

All morning, the Prince fusses over not having done everything ‘right’ by the maiden, and has been wondering what may have gotten wrong or if there was a possibility that the maiden has been kidnapped. 

Merely a day has passed since the failed wedding. Yesterday, the Prince had waited for hours at the wedding venue for the maiden, and Sir Noah had to do all he could not to make a slip and reveal the truth. Not even when the Prince had waited until nightfall came and the maiden was still absent from her own wedding. 

“Y-your Highness,” Sir Noah carefully calls out to the Prince. “Please, my Prince. You need to rest.” 

“Rest? How could I possibly rest? My bride has gone missing!” 

Sir Noah winces. The Prince has never once raised his voice at his aides and knights, no matter how frustrated he feels. But now he seems stiff, his voice sounds strained and desperate. It would be lying if Sir Noah try to claim that the guilt isn’t eating him up from the inside. 

He thought the Prince would easily move on. After all, had they not only met each other the day before? Had they not agree to marry only because of the myth, the stories, the tale that was told about princes and damsels and the true love’s kiss? 

The prince could have gotten with anyone he wanted. A princess from the southern island who had once led her tribe to find miracles, for example. Or the ice princess who was known to defeat her own curse up north and fought for her family. Anyone other than the damsel that the Queen had—for some unknown reason—the most disdain towards. 

But Prince Jungkook has only been troubled ever since the maiden disappeared. He has been restless. So much so that the prince is skipping meals and missing his sword fighting practices. Sir Noah isn’t sure if the prince has had the chance to sleep at all ever since the maiden’s sudden disappearance, as many of the guards reported seeing Prince Jungkook walking back and forth between the main castle and the now vacant wedding venue in the gardens. 

Prince Jungkook suddenly comes to a halt. His eyes fall on the map of Andalasia that has been set up on the table standing at the center of the room. For one second, the prince makes no move. He makes no sound, yet his gaze sharpens as if he is thinking deeply, and then something inside him snaps. 

Without a word, Jungkook turns away from the table and marches towards the door. 

“Your Highness, wait! Where are you going?” Sir Noah calls for him as his prince walks out of the war room in quick, long strides. The old royal aide tries to catch up, quickly losing his breath as they reach the corridor on the side of the castle leading towards the courtyard. 

“I need to find her. I must search for her until I find her,” Jungkook insists as he continues walking. Sir Noah has no clue where the prince is heading to, yet the steady footsteps of the prince echoes through the walls with no sign of stopping. 

“Where would you go to look for her? How? You can’t possibly spend the night looking for her out there. The Queen is also expecting you for dinner, and—”  

Jungkook stops and makes a sharp turn to face Sir Noah. “I will search through the entire realm, if I must! And yes, I will not stop even if the sun only comes the next week.” The deep inhale of breath that the prince takes after he speaks feels heavy, and his voice trembles when he speaks again, “What kind of groom or husband would I be if I am not out there looking for my betrothed?” 

The guilt that Sir Noah has felt for the whole day seems to be piercing deeper in his chest. He feels powerless against it, but he knows that he cannot give in and allow the prince to leave the castle. Not if the aide wants to keep his head on his shoulders. “Forgive me for overstepping, Your Highness. But we have sent knights to search through the castle properties, the land, even through the forest to find the maiden, so—” 

Jungkook throws his arms in frustration. “Then do tell, Sir Noah. Where is she now? Why have they not find her yet if they have been searching thoroughly as you said they have?” 

“But my Prince, it has only been a day.” 

Jungkook cuts him off with a scoff. “A day too long. She could be out there, lost, scared. She could be harmed.” Jungkook exhales a deep breath, trying to calm down so he can think. But his mind refuses to think. Too filled with worry about his missing bride. “We don’t even know if she’s been kidnapped. What if she had fallen prey to the wrong kinds of people?” 

“Your Highness, I can assure you—” 

“What? What will you do to assure me?” Jungkook’s voice softens. Though not because he is calmer, only because he is exhausted. “I will not be reassured until I have my bride back.” 

“What if—” Sir Noah tries to speak, hesitant at first, but his need to stop the prince from leaving the castle—from defying the Queen—pushes him to speak his thoughts. “What if the maiden had chosen to run away? Perhaps she had a change of mind. Not even her guests, families, or her little friends ever came to the wedding, so what’s to say that she hadn’t told everyone that she was reconsidering about marrying the Prince—” 

Jungkook marches back to Sir Noah as he hears all this. Then he shows Sir Noah a part of him that he had never once shown before. A side of the prince that had never existed, now unleashed at the accusation thrown against his bride as he reaches out and grabs Sir Noah’s collar and pulls roughly at him. 

“If you claim to know me at all, you would do well not to say such atrocity right at my face, Sir Noah,” he threatens the royal aide, who is now shaking in fear in Jungkook’s hands. “I know that she will never leave without any notice. Not without news. Not like this.” 

“Uh, I—” Sir Noah gasps in his shock, “Y-Your Highness—” 

Realising what he has done, Jungkook quickly releases Sir Noah. The older man stumbles backwards, his legs failing to hold his weight. Prince Jungkook glares at Sir Noah with his jaw clenched, stealing the royal aide’s voice when the sight leaves him completely speechless, overtaken by fear. 

With a deep exhale of breath, Jungkook turns away, dismissing the royal aide without looking over his shoulder. “I need some fresh air. Leave me be. Tell my mother that I won’t be joining her for dinner tonight.” 

“B-but, Your Highness—” Sir Noah tries to stop Prince Jungkook, only to fail, as the prince has already stepped out of the corridor and is now heading towards the courtyard. Sir Noah has no other choice but to give up. “Understood.” 

Sir Noah stays in the side corridor for a moment longer, watching Prince Jungkook walk across the courtyard until he disappears between the tall hedges leading towards the royal garden. Once the prince is out of sight, instead of feeling relieved, the weight of his conscience refuses to go away. 

Shaking his head, Sir Noah turns to make his way to the Queen’s chamber. He needs to report to the Queen about the prince’s reaction and inquire what needs to be done. 

Just as he steps away from the ledge, a tree growing nearby begins to sway. The sound of rustling leaves breaks the silence before falling to the ground. 

Sir Noah looks up to see if there is an animal passing by, disrupting the trees and making the branches shake, only to see the swaying of leaves coming to halt. He can still hear leaves rustling from some other trees nearby and the lower bushes just as the cold breeze of the evening flows around him, making him shiver.

Hmmm, seems like autumn is coming early this time of year, he simply muses, ignoring the sudden disruption. 

As he continues his journey into the main castle, the little shadow that has been hiding behind the swaying leaves begins to move again. The sound of tiny paws scattering across the castle wall can be faintly heard under the sound of the flowing breeze as the shadow begins to race across the garden, chasing the sulking prince. 

The evening breeze welcomes Jungkook as he walks across the courtyard. 

The temperature has dropped significantly the moment the sun is gone, yet Jungkook doesn’t mind it. With his coat hanging somewhere in the war room, he welcomes the cold touching his skin. 

It helps only little to distract himself from the thoughts running through his mind. From the guilt and sorrow that keep clawing at him, and from continuously questioning himself what he could have done differently to prevent this tragedy from happening. 

He has no idea what prompted him to walk out into the dark courtyard. 

Jungkook had only wanted to get away. He needed to clear his thoughts, and—just like the excuse he used to get away from Sir Noah—a breath of fresh air. Perhaps then, he would be able to find some peace of mind and figure out what he needs to do to get his bride back.

And yet, the storm inside his head refuses to settle. 

In fact, it only seems to be escalating. The accusation that Sir Noah has thrown at him is beginning to take root, even if the bigger part of himself is in denial.

Because the maiden, his bride, his princess, would never have run away. He believes so in his heart, as he knows well enough just how much you were looking forward to the big day. Just as much as he was.  

No, she couldn’t have run away. Something foul must have happened. 

This is the thought that has been running through Jungkook’s mind ever since you failed to show up at the wedding venue. No matter how long he waited, and waited, without any sign of you coming through the pathway decorated in scattered white petals and blooming daisies, he still believes that you wouldn’t have left him without any explanation, without news nor a reason. 

Lost in his thoughts and wonderings, Jungkook finds himself walking towards the Annex building right across the courtyard. The building that was supposed to house you and your little friends during the wedding preparation. The building where the palace maids spent hours waiting, hoping to help prepare you for the ceremony, only for you to never arrive. 

Jungkook walks toward the small patch of garden at the side of the building, finding a wooden bench where he can rest. From here, he raises his head, looking over the balcony on the upper floor, where your preparation room is situated. The room is now left unattended and unoccupied, as the only person who was supposed to be using it on the morning of the wedding never came. 

But the bitter thought of your absence isn’t the reason why his chest feels tight as he looks up on the empty balcony. The reason for his pain is his memory, as it takes him back to the night before, to make him think of another balcony that he was looking at before everything fell apart. 

The balcony in front of him looks nothing like the small balcony right outside of your bedroom. As he looks up to the vacant area above his head, the only thing he sees is the modest and quaint balcony at the heart of the Amaranth Forest, with you standing against the bannister as you sang to him a song to celebrate your coming nuptial. 

The cold weather bit into his skin as Jungkook raced through the night, leading his horse through the Amaranth Forest until he finally reached your humble abode. 

Jungkook already knew by then that the castle must have sent news to you and your family about the Queen’s blessing, yet he was still eager to bring the news directly to you. He wanted to share his joy and happiness, the excitement of being able to marry the woman of his dreams, and for the magic of the true love’s kiss that he was about to share with you the next day. 

By the time the prince got to your home, the place was quiet. The only light he could see was coming from your window, where he could hear the soft humming sound of a tune reverberating through the night. 

She is still awake, he pleasantly wondered. 

Jumping off his magnificent horse, Jungkook bent down to pick up a handful of small gravels as a means to grab your attention without unnecessarily alerting anyone else around or mistakenly disturbing someone—namely your grandmother—from slumber. He contemplated for a moment before he began tossing them against your window. One at a time. Until he finally caught your attention. 

“It’s me, Princess,” he called out to you then with a whisper, once he noticed some movements happening from beyond the drawn curtains. 

He saw you peeking from between the curtains, gasping at the sight of him, before the window was unlatched and out you went to the balcony to see him. 

“My Prince,” you greeted him with a gasp, your eyes filled with joy that Jungkook felt the urge to celebrate. 

“I’ve come to see you, Princess,” Jungkook nearly shouted, to which you quickly hushed him to quiet. 

“I know, Your Highness,” you whispered to him then. “But please, keep it down. My grandmother has fallen asleep just moments ago.”

Jungkook nodded and immediately lowered his voice. “Are you busy preparing for tomorrow?” 

Your smile widened, and Jungkook could tell how genuinely happy you were when you said, “Yes, I am.” 

“So the news have come to you about the Queen’s blessing.” 

“That the Queen has approved of our marriage? Yes, it has,” you let him know with a grateful smile. “A royal knight came to us in the afternoon, bringing news of the Queen’s approval and the wedding that has been set to happen tomorrow before noon.” He heard a sigh coming out of your lips. The sound was filled with wonder and disbelief, and it touched him deeply in the chest. “It feels so soon. Even my grandmother was in complete shock.” 

“And how about your grandmother?” Jungkook asked you when he recalled meeting your grandmother earlier that day to ask for her blessing. While your grandmother was surprised to hear his intention of marrying you, she was definitely not expecting to hear the wedding to happen so suddenly. “She hasn’t changed her mind about giving her blessing for us, has she?” 

You quickly began shaking your head, much to his pleasure. “No, she hasn’t. But seeing the royal knight and hearing the good news from Her Majesty the Queen has reassured her. Nana even helped me with the dress until a moment ago when I sent her back to her chambers.” 

Jungkook couldn’t help but smile, feeling the excitement and joy of seeing you in a wedding dress so soon. “I cannot wait to see you in your dress.” 

You made a humming sound that Jungkook perceived as a giggle, only that it had a tune to it, as if you were humming a delightful song. “And I cannot wait to wear it for you tomorrow.” 

Silence fell between you as you both relished the moment of joy. 

“This is so romantic. For the prince himself to come and visit me late at night,” you had murmured then with a sigh, and right at that moment, Jungkook had promised himself to never forget the emotions rushing through his chest; the pride and gratitude he felt for being the reason you were smiling; and the excitement he felt for tomorrow. 

“To hear you say such a thing will only pressure me into making sure that tomorrow will be perfect.” 

The soft sound of your laughter made everything brighter for Jungkook. “I know you will make it perfect.” 

“You have such high faith in me, Princess,” Jungkook said, shaking his head. When he looked up, he saw you leaning against the bannister, your chin propped on top of your hands. Tilting your head, you seemed to be deep in thoughts, even when your gaze remained on him. “What are you thinking about?” 

“I’m thinking about”—a dreamy sigh came out of your lips—”our true love’s kiss.” 

“Really, now?” 

“Yes! It’s making me happy that I just want to”—you started clapping your hands—”I just want to sing!”

Seeing your excitement put a smile on Jungkook’s face. “Then sing, Princess. Let me listen to your voice so I can sleep well tonight.” Jungkook laughed as you started dancing on your small balcony, humming softly to a tune and singing joyfully about your true love’s kiss. 

“In the still of the night, when the stars softly shine,

A spell whispers secrets to hearts like mine.”

Your voice was like magic. It touched a deep part of Jungkook which caused him to hum along with your tune as if he knew every rhythm, every beat, every word. 

“Through forests enchanted, where wild roses grow,

You searched for my heart, though the path was unknown.”

As you continued, the forest began to sway. Every rustle of leaves became a rhythm to accompany your song. A music, a tune, to which you kept swaying along as the breeze began flowing around you and Jungkook. 

“Now our worlds collide, in this moment of grace,

One kiss will erase every trace of the maze.

So kiss me, my love, let the story begin.”

Lured by your enchanting voice, Jungkook joined you and began to sing along. 

“True love's kiss, like a spark from the skies,

It awakens the soul, with a tender surprise.

One touch of your lips, and the darkness will part,

For your kiss is the key that unlocks my heart.

True love's kiss, in this moment divine,

Is the magic that says you'll forever be mine.”

Jungkook closes his eyes, drowning the lovely tune that he sang together with you that night before it could lead him into feeling even more despair. Still, he cannot help but hum the tune as he reminisces that wonderful moment he spent with you before he had to race back to the castle and allow you a moment to rest. 

Besides, he had also feared that the magic of your voice would break away his restraint, causing him to leap over to the balcony and give you the kiss that he desperately wanted. One that he dreamed of. When he saw the look in your eyes once the song ended, he knew then that he wouldn’t be able to resist. 

There was a glow in your eyes which caught his attention that night. 

It reminded him of the moonlight, of its magnificent beauty that he had often seen shining through the warm nights of summer. There was a wonderful spark rising in his chest when he saw it in your gaze; the blissful happiness that seemed to be reaching out into his heart and soul. At that moment, Jungkook had imagined seeing the same glow the next day, when he was supposed to take your hand and recite his vows before sharing the true love’s kiss with you. 

He never expected what was supposed to be the happiest day in his life—and yours—would fall apart the way it did. 

All the years he spent training to fight against evil and sharpening his swordsmanship skills seem fruitless now. For years, he had done all he could to make himself worthy of his title as the Crown Prince. From fighting monsters and demons, encountering evil witches and dark mages to prevent them from entering the land and exploiting the people, to winning fights and protecting the people of the kingdom with his sword. But never before had he ever felt so helpless, so powerless, all because he failed to protect the one person who matters to him the most. 

Jungkook is still overcome with regret for not picking you up himself on the morning of the wedding day like he had intended to. If only he hadn’t been so strict in following the old tradition of not seeing the bride before the wedding, he would’ve been able to make sure that you would arrive safely at the castle. 

But when Queen Mother had made him promise not to break tradition for the sake of the ceremony, Jungkook never thought to refuse and simply followed everything she taught him to do. He never thought that having faith in the servants and the knights would cause him to lose a bride. 

There has to be a way, he wonders to himself, trying to work his brain into thinking of a solution. There must be some kind of magic that would—

With a jolt, Jungkook rises from the bench when he suddenly realises. Magic is one of the sources of power that exists here in Andalasia. So why hasn’t he thought about using it to find you?  

Jungkook starts pulling at his hair as he thinks this through, realising soon the reason why magic had never been a possibility for him to even consider. 

Jungkook had never been so adept with magic. Not since he was a child. 

Ever since he was a young boy, Jungkook has always been more interested in learning how to fight, how to wield a sword, and to follow the footsteps of the princes written in tale books who protected their princesses and queens with their swords instead of spells. And now, he regrets all the years he could have used to learn magic from the Queen. 

Yes, that’s it, he wonders with a newfound hope. Perhaps Mother will be able to use her magic to help find her. 

With this thought giving him a new sliver of hope, Jungkook starts to make his way back to the main castle and requests a moment with the Queen, to ask her for a favour in finding his missing maiden. Until he hears rough rustling sounds of leaves, causing him to halt. 

This sound has been occupying the garden for a while now, he realises, yet he paid no mind to it, thinking it to be the evening breeze shaking the trees and bushes around him.

But as he looks on towards the nearest rosebush growing alongside the pathway, he notices that the breeze may not be the reason behind these sounds. He takes a step closer, just as the leaves before him are parted, and a small face peeks through the opening. 

“Your Highness?” A small voice speaks, and it takes Jungkook a moment to realise that the face—and the voice—belongs to a squirrel. 

A familiar-looking squirrel. 

“You!” He exclaims when he recognises her. He bends down to his knees, greeting the little thing with a smile. “It’s you! The squirrel who accompanied _______ in the forest. What are you doing here in the dark?” 

The squirrel starts waving her paws frantically. Panic is written on her face as she glances around her. “Sshh—please not so loud, my Prince,” she cautiously begs the prince. “You cannot tell anyone that I am here.” 

“What? But why?” Jungkook asks, “Why are you here?” 

The poor thing looks hesitant for a moment. “My name is Poppy, and yes, I am friends with ______ and we met in Amaranth Forest.” Jungkook still remembers the day quite well and nods as he listens. 

“It’s ______, my Prince. I heard what the other man, that Sir Whatshisname, said”—she says with a growl—”about my dear friend, and you must know that he was undoubtedly mistaken.” The more she speaks, the more the squirrel appears angry. Unwilling to accept the accusations being thrown by Sir Noah about her friend.

It doesn’t take long before Jungkook realises the reason why. “Blossom never ran away, my Prince, and I am quite concerned that she might have gotten hurt.”

Jungkook’s eyes grow wide. “What do you mean?” 

A breeze passes through the bushes, rustling leaves and swaying branches cause the squirrel to jump, surprised, until she takes one quick glance around the area and realises that there is no danger coming. But the same cannot be said about your fate. Wherever you might be. 

“She might be in danger as we speak, so we must hurry.” 

Furrowing his brows, Jungkook leans closer to be able to listen more. “What do you know? Tell me everything.”  

Poppy’s eyes burn with tears, overcome with relief. She didn’t expect that Prince Jungkook would be willing to listen to her. But she feels glad that she took the chance. 

After what happened on the day of the wedding, when she and the others were tricked by the vile and queer-looking Sir Whatshisname, Poppy has been wary about trusting anyone from the castle. She was so enraged that she truly believed that the entire royal family and its squires had set up a trap when they first took you into the castle. 

However, in her mission to find out what actually happened and who might have been responsible, Poppy had spent the entire afternoon watching the prince from a distance, and she can now see that his distress upon his failure of finding you seems genuine. 

Surely, the man who seems to have spent his day and night searching for you—and is looking as if he is in dire need of sleep for thinking about you—wouldn’t be the one responsible of your disappearance. 

Looking at the ground around her, Poppy settles on a small fallen branch as a tool to help her describe everything that had happened. Because words from a tiny creature like herself wouldn’t be enough. 

Using the branch, Poppy begins to carve the ground, sketching out images as she relays to the prince all the events she witnessed leading to your disappearance. 

Poppy draws their arrival; with you in your wedding dress arriving in the carriage and your little friends accompanying you; Sir Noah welcoming you at the gate. Then she tells him about Sir Noah separating you from the others, promising to have knights and servants coming to help you prepare, before sending Poppy and the others to the wrong side of the property and kicking everyone out of the castle. 

She hears Jungkook’s breath hitching at this part, a crease forming between his brows, yet Poppy continues. 

When Poppy tells him about the part where she managed to climb up the castle walls to see you standing in front of a fountain, Jungkook’s entire body tenses. “She was at the old fountain?” 

Poppy cocks her heard. “So you know about the fountain, my Prince?”

Jungkook quickly shakes his head. “Surely, I would. The magic fountain had been there for as long as I lived. The water comes out from the massive rock hidden behind the grove of trees growing against the castle walls, it used to cause massive flooding on that part of the castle, yet the water wouldn’t stop flowing. Once it was found that the spring contained magic, the Queen built a fountain around the spring to contain the water,” the prince explains, “But the place is restricted. Only those who are permitted or given the spell to enter through the restriction can find it.” 

Poppy is confused. “Well, Blossom didn’t go there alone. I saw someone with her.” 

“Who was it?” 

Poppy begins to draw the old hag who was there with you. Unfortunately, she only witnessed everything from the distance, so all she can give the prince is the vague description of the old, mysterious hag; with her slightly hunched back, a dirty worn-out cloak that covered her entire body, and the curly strands of silver hair framing her face. 

Poppy also adds the hag’s slightly disfigured face, with her sharp nose and curved lips, and pointed cheeks, yet she cannot recall the eyes, except that they were dark and slightly wicked that they still give her the chills thinking about it now. 

“This is all I can give you, my Prince. I was too far away, so I cannot be sure if I was seeing things right. When I finally reached the fountain, your bride was gone and there was no trace of the old hag anywhere.” 

“How odd,” he muses, almost to himself as he is lost in thoughts. 

“Your Highness? Is there something—”

Poppy’s words are cut off when she hears footsteps coming down the pathway. Prince Jungkook doesn’t notice it yet, but her body is frozen, and the urge to flee the place is clawing at her from within. 

The incident from before, when she was tricked by the prince’s trusted man—Sir Unfriendlylooking—and then kicked out of the castle flashes through her mind that she immediately begins to tremble. 

The prince starts to speak, only to be interrupted by the deep voices of their intruders. 

“Your Highness, are you there?” 

“Prince Jungkook, is everything all right?” 

Poppy’s fear is lifted when she realises that neither of those voices comes from the scary royal aide from before. Yet her body is still tense, and her mind simply goes into a survival mode as she begins to plan out ways to run away. 

As Prince Jungkook recognises the voices of his knights, he rises to his feet to answer them. Immediately, Poppy jumps to grab the hem of his trousers to stop him. “Wait, Your Highness!” 

“What’s wrong? They’re my knights. Are you afraid of them?” 

“I—” She stammers as she clutches the small branch to her chest. “I should probably go. I can’t be seen here by anyone. I had to struggle to find my way into the castle, so they’ll kick me out if they see me, for sure. Please, Your Highness, promise me you’ll look for ________ and bring her home to us.” 

Poppy isn’t sure that the prince is going to let her leave, when he doesn’t say anything. He merely gives her an odd look, as if suddenly feeling suspicious with the way the squirrel is acting. Maybe she shouldn’t worry too much, seeing that whoever is standing on the other side of these bushes may not be connected to the old man that frightens her so. Yet she still cannot risk it. She wouldn’t. 

Thankfully, Prince Jungkook seems to notice her need to flee and think nothing more of it. 

“I still need some more information, and I might need your help,” he simply says to her. “Find me here in the morning. We’ll do well to work together to find your friend Blossom, my bride, but if you must go, then you should go for now and rest. I’ll handle the rest from here.” 

Poppy feels hopeful, but it doesn’t stop her from worrying about the risk that she will have to take for coming back to the castle again. “But, Prince—” 

“Go, I’ll wait for you here. I promise.” 

Something in the prince’s gaze makes her want to believe him. So she does. With a nod, Poppy promises both to herself and the prince that she will come back the moment the sun rises so they could work together to start searching for you. 

Right as the footsteps keep drawing nearer, Poppy slips away between the bushes and back into the night, making her way back home so she can report back to her friends and your grandmother who are waiting for news. 

Jungkook watches the squirrel make her escape through the bushes, and he continues to watch until he sees her faint shadow disappearing up the trees growing near the outer wall of the castle. 

As he watches her go, Jungkook begins to wonder why the squirrel would be so jumpy and tense, only because of the knights coming. He thinks back about her words, but nothing seems to make sense. His eyes find the rough sketches on the ground, and he takes the time to memorise each one of them the best he can.

He doesn’t want to believe that one of the wedding guests has done something foul to harm you and cause you to disappear on the wedding day. He also cannot think of any reason why someone would try to sabotage the royal wedding. 

Prince Jungkook remains silent for a moment as he studies the rough sketch of the person that Poppy claims to have been there with you to look at the fountain. He wonders what might have happened to you next. Surely, if you had simply drowned in the fountain, the knights would have found you when Jungkook ordered them to search through every corner of the castle, leaving not an inch of the property overlooked. 

Unless something else has stopped the knights from getting close to the fountain, or that whoever took you had done their best to hide any clues or trails. 

But why must they lure you to the fountain, risking the possibility of them getting caught, being so close to the wedding venue? 

What could have happened after? 

While Jungkook tries to think of any possible scenario that you may have encountered, the knights emerge through the pathway, coming to a sudden halt as they see their prince standing in the dark, all by himself. 

“Forgive us for interrupting your private time, Your Highness. We were sent by the Queen’s advisor to find you,” one of the knights greets him with a bow.

“That’s quite all right. I am on my way to see the Queen, after all.” 

The knights’ eyes grow wide. “I am afraid the Queen is—” The knights look at each other, looking unsure, which only makes Jungkook believe that there is something more about this whole situation that seems uncanny. That perhaps the squirrel—Poppy—had some real reason why she feared getting caught that she trembled simply for hearing some knights coming to them. 

“Her Majesty has locked herself in her chambers after dinnertime. The Queen’s advisor is currently with Her Majesty for a private discussion about some issues regarding the kingdom, but he had specifically requested that we bring you back before the night grows too late, just to make sure that you are safe.”

Don’t you mean to make sure that I have not—and will not—escaped from the castle unnoticed? 

Jungkook can only wonder about this with disdain, though he has no way of sharing his thoughts out loud. No way of confirming that Sir Noah has probably ordered to keep the prince hostage in his own castle.  

“Is that so?” he asks. Feeling bitter and uneasy, Jungkook takes one last look at the sketch of the possible suspect behind your disappearance, before turning to the knights. “Well then, why don’t you walk me back and inform Sir Noah to send the servants for my dinner.” 

The knights appear to be relieved, as if grateful that the prince agrees to go with them willingly. “Very well, Your Highness.” 

“After you,” Jungkook instructs the guards to walk ahead. As he makes his way to follow the guards, Jungkook steals a glance over his shoulder to make sure that his new little accomplice has managed to escape, completely unnoticed by the guards. Having someone on his side gives him a new hope, reassuring him to try all he might to be able to find you and bring you back home. 

Unlike the garden, where the air is fresh and chilly and the breeze is flowing nicely between the swaying trees, the air in the Queen’s sitting chamber feels hot and stifling. Invisible tension seems to have risen, causing the air in the room to feel dense, so much so that Sir Noah feels as if he is suffocating. 

His royal suit—which he has always felt to be one of the most comfortable suits that he has ever owned—suddenly feels too tight on his skin. He fights the urge to loosen up the tie wrapping around his collar or to open the suit jacket to let some coolness in. He barely has any courage to move at all, when the Queen is in deep concentration as she is working on her magic. 

Standing still in front of the small, black fountain placed at the heart of the chamber—the Queen’s talisman, which instils fear in Sir Noah’s person each time he feels its magic manifesting—Queen Rosalyne chants a few lines of cryptic spells, rousing the surface of the water to bubble and ripple. This remains only for a short moment, until the spell ends. Green mist is formed once the water calms down. 

Immediately, the tension in the air is lifted, and Sir Noah can finally breathe normally again. 

Only the relief doesn’t last. As the Queen finishes with her spell, casting magic across the land for the purpose of the kingdom, she takes a seat on her high-back chair and turns her attention to Sir Noah. 

“What is your business here?” she asks, as she reaches out to pick a decanter and pours an amber liquid drink into her glass. 

“Pardon this humble servant for disturbing you in”—he looks over to the calming fountain, not completely sure what the Queen was actually doing with her magic—”your, um—royal business, my Queen. But it’s Prince Jungkook that I am worried about. The Prince—” He stops to take a deep breath, preparing himself to take a blow as he continues, “His Highness wants to, has been planning and is about to initiate, the search for the maiden. His bride.” 

Queen Rosalyne’s hand comes to a halt, her fingers tightening around the crystal decanter when she hisses, “The Prince wants to do—what?” 

“He, um—Forgive me, Your Majesty, but—” Sir Noah swallows hard to calm his nerves. ”His Highness is planning to look for the maiden. He insists on it.”

The Queen’s jaw clenches, right before she swings her hand down, the decanter hitting the table with a loud thud, causing Sir Noah to jump on his feet. “And where exactly is he planning to look for her?” 

“We, uh—we don’t know yet, but His Highness has been searching through the castle for hints.” Sir Noah speaks while wringing his hands together. “He, uh—he has also been spending the entire afternoon to dusk in the war room, trying to figure out a way to track down his bride.”

Her eyes widening, Queen Rosalyne rises from her seat and turns back to the fountain. She casts a different spell, causing the fading green mist to thicken over the water. But the movement seems too slow, and the Queen grows impatient that she quickly waves her hand over the fountain, cancelling the spell. 

“The spell is too small,” she complains. “This won’t do.” 

She immediately turns, the back of her robe billowing behind her as she rushes out of her chamber. Sir Noah has no idea what to do. His feet don’t seem to want to move, frozen at the sight of the Queen’s anger, until Queen Rosalyne’s voice snaps him out of it when she yells, “What are you doing standing there? Come!” 

Sir Noah quickly follows the Queen, shadowing her close by as she walks out of the castle through the small hidden door right behind the chamber and into the pathway leading to the royal garden. The royal aide continues to look around as he walks right behind the Queen. Seeing nothing but stillness in the garden, he is relieved that he had at least thought of sending out the guards to retrieve the prince when he rushed to see the Queen. 

He can only hope for the guards to make it in time to bring the prince back into the castle so he won’t see them rushing into the garden, nor for him to see where they are heading.  

Just as he expected, Queen Rosalyne makes her way towards the old, magic fountain at the far end of the royal garden. The crystal-like water that never seems to stop falling appears to glow under the moonlight, sparkling like diamond and ice, enthralling to look at, but too dangerous to touch. Under the waterfall, the surface of the pool is calm and steady. The water is so clear that it almost serves as a mirror, reflecting perfectly the night sky, the stars sparkling above his head appear in the water like tiny diamonds scattering all over the dark background. 

Just yesterday, Sir Noah stood here with the Queen. Green mist covered the ground as Queen Rosalyne cast off the spell disguising her looks, and there were ripples spreading through the surface of the water, right where you went under.  

Once again, the Queen begins to chant her spell, drawing more ripples and bubbles on the calm water, rousing her magic until a faint white mist rises from the fountain. 

As the water once again turns calm, the white mist spreads to the corner of the pool, and the Queen’s voice fades to quiet at the end of her spell, Sir Noah knows that the magic has manifested in the fountain. 

Sir Noah takes a hard look at the Queen in her silence. He takes in the grey strands threading her darker hair, the permanent furrow between her brows that seems to have gotten deeper the more she looks on through the fountain. He has no idea what kind of vision the Queen could possibly be seeing from the water spell. 

He wishes that he could see it, but the Queen has gestured for him to stand at a fair distance where he wouldn’t be able to get a clear sight of the divination that the Queen’s spell has summoned. 

Whatever it is, Sir Noah can sense that it will only bring trouble. A part of him wishes that the maiden will be safe, no matter where she has ended up, but there is a bigger part of him that wishes to remain loyal to the Queen. To protect her with all his might and do whatever the Queen needs him to. 

Just the way he has spent many years serving her with everything he has. 

That is why, the moment the Queen speaks, he feels nothing more but pure disappointment when she says, “Leave.” 

Hiding his sullen heart, Sir Noah bows his farewell to the Queen. “Your Majesty.” 

The spell that Queen Rosalyne had cast on this magic fountain was meant to send you away. Far away to the alter-world where you would be lost without any way to return home. 

The alter-world. A world without magic. Sending you away to the alter-world was meant to keep you away from Jungkook. It meant to put you in a place where no magic spells could work to help you find your way home.

The Queen had hoped that sending you off to the land with no magic would weaken you. That it would leave you with no hope, feeling lost and defeated, as you are confined in the other world. For you to be left with no other choice but to carry on with despair, while you are soon forgotten by everyone in Andalasia. 

Forgotten by her son, the Crown Prince. 

Separated by infinite space, the time in the alter-world works differently from how time progresses in Andalasia. It might take time for the prince to forget about you, but surely, with how much faster time progresses in the alter-world, you should have grown weak and miserable. The loss of hope should have broken your soul into pieces, that by the time the prince—if he ever gets to it, and it looks like the prince is already beginning to—manages to find his way to the alter-world to find you, there should be no chance for the two of you to reconcile. 

But why—

“Why does she look happy?” Queen Rosalyne seethes as she continues to watch the vision unfold from one scene to the next. She sees you struggling in the dark for a short time, only for everything to rapidly change, your fate turning around just as your soul only begins crumbling.  

The Queen moves her hand over the pool to get a clearer look at your life in the alter-world, everything that has happened so far after your fall. But the more she sees, the more she feels rage. 

“She’s supposed to be miserable and lost, not having a good time,” she snarls as she watches you sitting at the dinner table instead of stranded at a deserted road or abandoned hill, singing and laughing with a child—a little girl—who is hanging to every word you are saying, and a man sitting on the other end of the table. 

“Has she found another love?”

The Queen had failed to predict such possibilities to happen; either for the prince to be so adamant in finding a way to get to you or the chances that you may have found a replacement for the prince within the timeline that you are gone. 

This cannot happen, the Queen curses and wonders to herself as she paces back and forth around the fountain, thinking deeply about what she must do to change this. I will not allow it. 

If only the circumstances had been different, the Queen would have been elated to think that you have moved on rather quickly from the Crown Prince. That the curse she has cast to send you away has prevented you from sharing your true love’s kiss with Jungkook. 

But the truth is, it wouldn’t matter whether or not Jungkook will be the one sharing your true love’s kiss. 

As told by many tales, the true love’s kiss can break any kind of curse. 

Jungkook can have his kiss with anyone in the kingdom and the Queen will have no problem about it happening. As long as it is not with you. Because your happiness will be the end of everything. 

Your true love’s kiss will break the curse. 

The curse that has been placed ever since a long, long time ago by the evil Queen, and it will change everything should it be broken. Queen Rosalyne will lose everything that she holds dear should that ever happen. She will lose her throne, her kingdom, and everything that she has built for so long. Everything that she has put her heart and soul into, with many sacrifices made along the way.  

“I must stop it,” the Queen vows to herself, knowing what needs to be done. “I must stop her from finding her happily ever after. Before it would be too late.”  

⟶ Author’s Note | Originally commissioned by @pinkbtsarmy | Thank you for reading!

— © Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind is not allowed. unsolicited translations are not allowed.

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[JAY] It was such a happy two days :) ENGENE, I love you 😘