Taeil Is Being Investigated For Involvement Of Sex Crimes And Is Immidiately Terminated From NCT

choi seungcheol what the fuck

so incredibly well written and well researched. I loved reading your thoughts on isohel as well, and I ADORE how passionate you are about it.

joshua was so well written too, I just wish we had a little conclusion with advisor lee and the reader's mom...but it was so good

ミღ isohel — h. joshua x reader

i·so·hel (noun) a line on a map connecting points having the same duration of sunshine

description. fairytales can be rather misleading, can't they? when you and your mother are ripped away from your life at the castle, you spend over a decade resenting the royalty. so naturally, when you find prince joshua at your doorstep, you’re more than eager to shut the door on him. but as your life takes twists and turns, you happen to find yourself in the arms of a man you never thought you'd have to see again.

↳ genre. slowburn, modern royalty au, angst, fluff ↳ tags. prince!joshua, developing relationships, slut shaming, allusions / references to greek mythology, dialogue heavy, implied sex ↳ fic playlist ↳ w/c. 26.2k ↳ a/n. lwk don't like the beginning but i swear it gets better🙄 thank u @cheolhub for beta reading & @jeonghantis & @gyuswhore for reading it over and helping out w this bc i think i was going insane over this story by myself >_< ... i highly suggest listening to the song isohel by eden! it was a major inspiration for this whole story and i think it encapsulates the vibes really well c: hope u enjoy!

The sound of glass shattering isn’t foreign to your ears.

It’s common in the sweltering heat of the summer when the air is hot and sticky. Maids running around to tend to the evenings balls and parties only for the sweat to breach their fingers and suddenly their stack of fine china goes tumbling to the ground.

A bed of hyacinths sits in front of you as you bring up the hose and spray them down, watching through the tinted glass as two male helpers rush to the woman on the ground, quickly helping her clean up the shards of glass.

Turning your attention back to the plants in front of you, you turn the hose off and roll it back into the corner as you skip to the end of the greenhouse where there’s your mother’s desk space. It’s a measly little space but she hardly sits there anyways, always tending to the gardens in the courtyards, leaving the floral and herbal greenhouses under your care while she’s away.

After all, your mother is a gardener and botanist in the Hong palace, and having been a trusted employee for the past half decade since your father passed, she exudes the little privileges of getting to bring her daughter to work.

At least that’s what you think, because you’re only nine years old and naive.

She teaches you well—you’ve only been accompanying her on the weekends when you don’t have school, but you’ve already picked up on how to tell the differences between an infected plant and an unaffected one, the characteristics of a good caterpillar and the characteristics of a bad one, the exact amount you should water each species, and exactly when you should let the vapor run down.

It’s easy work, and you love it.

You love sitting at your mother’s desk and imagining what it’d be like to be her—successful and working in the castle, doing what you love instead of working some stupid nine to five. You love looking out the glass of the greenhouses every few moments when you pause reading your book. You love the rare moments when you get to lay your eyes on one of the members of the royal family walking by.

You’ve started to pick up on their characters in the small frame of time you get to see them when they pass by. The Queen has kind eyes, the King is a bit intimidating, and Prince Joshua … Prince Joshua has soft features you can’t quite read.

“He’s only a year older than you!” one of your friends from school said when you told her that you stayed at the castle during the weekends to help your mother. “You should marry him and become princess!”

You had to push her away and watch her disappointed eyes when you told her that you hardly get to see him for more than ten seconds, even on the rare occasions that he crosses your vision.

The sound of glass shattering isn’t foreign to your ears, but hearing it more than twice in one hour does have some alarms ringing in your head. When you glance back up at the window, time stops.

Your mother is on the ground. Limbs sprawled out with eyes wide in horror, she scrambles against the rough stone path as a man looms over her. He dons a deep purple robe—the kind that belongs to the advisors of the Court—and your young mind races through the possibilities of what warrants the disgusted look on his face.

“Sneaking around with royal blood. Who do you think you are?”

A man watches, dark and brooding from the corner, and then you recognize him. Advisor Lee. He stops by the greenhouses sometimes—a high advisor of the Counsel and distance relative of the King’s. You’re nine years old and naive, but you are not dense.

Something had happened between your mother and Advisor Lee. Something tells you it’s more than you can understand, but in this moment, you feel you understand perfectly.

“You whore,” the man in the dark robes spits out, punctuating his disgust with a stomp of his feet right by your mother’s leg.

You’re only nine years old, but that is old enough to know that that is not a nice word. Nine years old, and you know that that means a very bad thing. Nine years old and when you look at your mother’s grief stricken face, you are certain that everything is about to change.

Your house was always on the edge of the town. Before the affair between Advisor Lee and your mother, it was because she liked having the space to open a garden in your backyard. The city is crowded and full of bustling roads and buildings—it’s no fit for the small cottage that she wanted.

Now, after the affair, your house is on the edge of the town for a different reason.

The first day after your mother is fired from her position at the castle, you go to school with your head hanging low. It’s in the city, and for the first time in your five years of schooling, your mother tells you to go alone.

“I can’t—I shouldn’t drive you anymore,” she tells you as you pack your backpack. She walks you to the bus station and hands you a paper telling you which stop to get off at and how to walk to school from there.

You’re not sure what you’re expecting when you two walk up to the little stop by the street, but when you approach the small crowd of people waiting for the next bus to come in, their chatter hushes. Sparing glances at you and your mother, they whisper—some hushed, some blatant, some sad, some angry.

That’s where she stops and puts a heavy hand on your shoulder. “You can take it from here, yeah?” she asks, but you know it’s not really a question. Nodding, you slowly walk towards the crowd of people as the next bus parks in front of the stop.

You don’t turn around and look at your mother because you know that’d be a mistake. Instead, you let your neck droop, following the quiet crowd as they pile into the bus, clutching the strings of your backpack.

There aren’t any places to sit, so you reach for a pole but suddenly the bus starts and you lurch forward, falling to the ground. There’s black and brown dust on the palms of your hand as you push yourself up, no one saying a word or bothering to help as you keep your head down and grip onto a pole.

The knees of your stockings are dirtied, and it’s the only thing you look at the whole ride, it’s the only thing you look at when you silently take the walk to school, and it’s the only thing you look at when you make your way onto campus.

It’s the whispers again, and as you quietly sink into your normal seat, you hear them louder.

Did you hear about her mother? She isn’t allowed in the castle grounds anymore. What did her mother do? I can’t believe she showed up, I’d be crying at home. I wonder what she’s thinking—

Nothing. You think nothing when your teacher announces that class will be starting. All you focus on is the board and your notebook. You spend your recess and lunch at the school’s library, and as soon as the final bell rings, you scurry off campus and towards the bus station.

It isn’t like the morning—people don’t hush and stare, but nine years old is smart enough to know that it’s because they don’t know you’re your mother’s daughter. There aren’t any empty seats just like the morning but this time, a nice gentleman offers you his spot.

You can tell he isn’t so sure of his decision though, when you finally get off at your stop and you run off to your mother who’s waiting for you by the bench. From the corner of your vision, you watch the man through the bus window, jaw tight and gaze cold as he watches you slip your hand into your mother’s.

Your mother doesn’t talk on the short walk home. She doesn’t ask you about school and she doesn’t ask you about what the other kids said. You figure that she doesn’t need to hear it anyways, and so you purse your lips together.

You have a lot to get used to.

Your life doesn’t change much, and you get used to it.

School days are spent with your head buried in a new book with every break you have. Your time at home is nothing but studying and your mother teaching you how to tend to the garden in your yard.

Soon you are graduating and moving on with your life as you make the transition to college, although you can’t say much changes. You study, you read, and occasionally you commission a project. It’s usually just renovating a citizen’s yard, sometimes it’s designing a public garden, but it’s never anything too serious.

Right now, you’re perched on a wooden stool, elbows leaning on the counter as you swipe your thumb over your tongue to flip the next page of your book. The paper is worn through, soft under your touch as a show for all it’s been through—bought second hand from your boss.

Your boss is a kind old man who happened to be a friend of your late grandfather’s, and when his little bookstore was teetering on the edge of being forgotten, you couldn’t refuse the offer to step in to work.

You’re around halfway through the book when you hear the familiar ringing of the bell above the door, head snapping up only to see your boss at the front door with a few envelopes in one hand, a plastic bag in the other.

“Holding up the fort, I see,” he greets with a low chuckle as you stand up and walk over, taking the bag from his hand to help out.

“As always, Mr. Min,” you reply, setting the bag of books down on the counter. “Are these—”

“They’re your mothers. I was walking by your house this morning and she asked me to take these and add them to our stock, since she said she doesn’t need them anymore.”

“Huh,” you say softly, taking out the various books about plants. “Not sure how big the market for gardening books is anymore, but I’m sure I can add it to our catalog after hours today,” you mutter, setting them on the table behind the register as he places the letters in his hand.

“Your mother also told me to give you this,” he says, his tone an octave lower as he plucks out one the envelopes and hands it to you. You knit your eyebrows together, wiping your dusty hands down on your pants before taking a look at it. “It’s from—”

“The castle,” you whisper, holding the envelope closer to your face to make sure you’re seeing it correctly. “Oh my god—it’s from the castle.”

“Yeah. Must be important if your mom felt the need to send it through me instead of just waiting for you to come home and take a look at it.”

“A-are you sure this is meant for me?” you manage to ask, flipping the envelope over a few times to make sure you read your name correctly.

“Yup,” Mr. Min replies, pointing down at where the intended recipient is listed. Sure enough, it’s your name listed in dark and bold ink in one corner, and then there’s that stupid royal emblem of the sun in the other corner.

Your heart sinks to your stomach at the possibilities of what could be inside, raking your mind for an answer. Was something wrong? Was it about your mother? Or was this just some big mistake?

Dear Madam,

The Hong Royal Counsel wishes to find you well, as we present a request.

Your reputation with your mother’s work as well as the operation of your own gardens throughout the city, along with your academic achievements at our very own Hong University have reached our ears, and we believe you possess the skills required for a special project we have in mind.

You will have the opportunity to lead this project as you please and earn a notable financial sum in payment for your efforts.

Please indicate your acceptance by replying to this letter at your earliest convenience. We eagerly await your response and sincerely hope that you will be able to grace our kingdom with your talent and presence.

Thank you,

Hong Royal Counsel

You don’t have to read the letter more than once before you scoff, tossing the crisp paper and letting it drift down onto the counter before muttering under your breath, “Who do they think they are?” Crumpling the envelope and letter up, you throw it down into the trash can by your chair.

Knocks on your door aren’t normal. The delivery and mailmen know better than to do that, leaving your packages and mail by the doorstep and doing no more than that.

Knocks on your door usually mean Mr. Min is here for something—picking up some of the veggies your mother grew because the store prices are too high, dropping off a book, or indulging in some pleasantries and casual small talk.

It’s eight in the morning when you hear the soft rapping against your front door. Your mom is in the kitchen and your room, right next to the foyer, has walls thin enough to let the sounds through. You’re on your bed though, and it’s comfortable, warm, and it’s too early to be out and about anyways. You’ve just spent the past nine months laboring away at college, so you’re granting yourself these few moments of peace in the morning.

Pressing your head into the pillow, you try to drown out the noise of your mother conversing with Mr. Min this early in the morning. After you hear the door open, there’s a silence and for a moment, you think you’ve succeeded in plugging your ears well enough.

You’re about to smile to yourself and drift back into a heavy sleep before you hear a loud gasp.

It takes a lot to surprise your mother—you’ve come to learn that in recent years. It takes a lot to stun her, to have her gasp as you just heard. Scurrying out of bed, you press your ear against the wall in hopes to catch a glimpse of what’s going on.

All you hear is silence.

It hardly takes a second for you to shove off your blankets and throw yourself into the hallway, rushing towards the foyer where you see your mother standing in front of the open door. She stays unmoving and you wince for a few moments, eyes still adjusting to the morning light as you make your way closer to the door to see what exactly has her so shocked.

And then you catch it: a glint of that wretched, golden sun emblem stitched onto a purple velvet coat.

“What the f—”

Your mother’s hand flies up and grabs your wrist tightly. It’s the first time you see her move, and as she turns around to face you with dark, warning eyes, you press your lips shut as you glance over her shoulder. In front of your doorstep is a man you never thought you’d get to see in person again, not after that day.

Prince Joshua is just as handsome as the tabloids and social media make him out to be, and his presence in your life also seems to be equally infuriating.

“What is he doing here?” you hiss, pulling your mother closer to you so she’s close enough to hear you.

Her eyes are somber, and you silently wonder how she can be so calm, so docile, so—so tame. “They’re here for you,” she whispers, turning her whole body so her back faces the prince.

“What are you talking about? Why would—”

“The letter sent to you from the kingdom. I thought you told me it was a mistake.”

“It was,” you mutter, eyes glancing at Prince Joshua behind her. His gaze is averted, presumably out of respect for the conversation you’re having with your mother right now, but you can’t find it in yourself to appreciate him for it.

“Then why is he asking for your name?”

You gulp anxiously, eyes flickering between your mother’s eyes and the floor. “I don’t know.”

“Talk to him. It must be important,” she orders, walking forward and toward the kitchen and you grab her shoulder quickly.

“Are you kidding me? Why—why would I talk to him? Why would I talk to any of them?” you argue louder than you intended, and your mother swats your hand away sharply.

“They’re royalty,” she says, voice strained with caution.

“And? It’s not medieval times where they actually rule over us so—”

Your mother sighs heavily and then it hits you that no matter how much logic you try to expend, it’d be futile. “Talk to him. It isn’t quite like you have a choice.”

“You of all people shouldn’t put up with this,” you state and the second the words leave your lips, you regret it. Her face hardens and there’s a cold feeling that sinks in your stomach as she frees herself of your grasp and marches away.

You’re left watching her back fade into the rest of your house as your eyes are wide and you’re becoming increasingly aware of the presence of another person behind you. A person who is very important and very famous and very much a representation of all the things you loathe.

Turning on your heel, you don’t bother to push your lips up into a morning grin facing Prince Joshua with tired eyes and frown etched into your mouth. Taking a deep breath, you glance back at your mother who is in a far off room, deciding that whatever he needs to say to you, she doesn’t need to hear.

Slipping on some slippers, you quickly walk out of the house and close the door behind you, putting you right in front of Prince Joshua who waits for you with bright eyes.

“Hi,” he greets, voice airy and light as he takes a few steps back so he can bow, of which you begrudgingly return. “Sorry to bother you so early in the morning, I was just taking care of some work in the area and was told to stop by and talk to you about something.”

He sounds sincere, and his lips curve into a pleasant expression when he speaks, and you wonder if he’s plain stupid playing dumb to save you the humiliation of the situation—a royal prince speaking to the daughter of ‘a slut who seduced the royal advisor.’

So unable to decipher anything about his true intentions, you ask bluntly, “Is it about the letter I got from the kingdom two weeks ago?”

Prince Joshua chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck and you catch the fancy white fabric of his buttoned up shirt underneath the coat. “I mean, yes it is and—”

You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “Why do you guys even bother sending letters? It’s the 21st century, you know? Emails exist.”

His face reddens, looking away before pursing his lips together. “Some things are just kept out of tradition,” Prince Joshua reasons quickly. “But I totally understand that, we’ll keep emailing in mind. But for the meantime, that’s, uh, kind of what I’m here for. We didn’t hear back a response, and I would like to take your answer back to the castle for you.

“Isn’t no response enough of a response?”

“Well—”

“My answer is no, if that wasn’t obvious,” you say, turning back to the door. “Is that all?”

“Wait!” he exclaims, grabbing your arm with his white leather gloves. It’s a bit surprising, really—he seems awfully timid for a prince and you’re a bit unnerved by how he hasn’t reprimanded you yet for being disrespectful. “Is there a reason why you don’t want to take on the job? If there are some specifics, maybe we can adjust the arrangement so it’s more to your liking.”

Your eyes widen, bewildered. “What? No I—I don’t care for anything like that, I won’t take the job.”

“Aren’t you just a ray of sunshine,” he mutters under his breath before his eyebrows knit together as he looks at the ground, seemingly trying to figure something out. “Is it the money? We can negotiate your salary,” he offers and you shake your head.

“No, it’s not the money—I don’t care about the money,” you say harshly. “It’s not any of that, I just don’t want to.”

“Can you tell me why? It’s just, I’ll have to report this back to the Counsel and if I’m not able to recruit you, they’d at least want some reasoning for why.”

Inhaling sharply, it takes all your self control to not let your eye twitch and slam the door in his face. “Are you really asking me why I don’t want to?” Pursing your lips together, you glare at him harshly. “You were there that day, weren’t you?” you ask more quietly, and for a moment you see Prince Joshua falter. “Not that I’d expect you to care but surely you can at least understand why I don’t want to.”

“I-I’m sorry, but I really can’t change the past.”

Scoffing, you turn on your heel and open the door. “I’m not asking you to.”

“Wait—just wait a sec’!” he calls out, stopping the door with his palm before you close it. “You’re in your second year at Hong University, right?” He doesn’t wait for a response before he continues. “We’ll pay for the rest of your tuition.”

The air in your lungs seems stuck for a passing moment, and you shake your head to yourself, stepping into your house and turning around one last time with cold eyes and a deep frown. “No.”

The prince looks around hastily before blurting out, “We’ll do all of it!”

“All of what?”

“We’ll pay for all of your tuition—reimburse you for what you’ve already paid.” You don’t care. You shouldn’t care. “All of it, plus your hourly wage,” he adds, and you don’t even have a chance to think before you feel your mother’s hand on your back.

“She’ll do it.”

Your mother chuckles as she helps you tie the lavender colored robe around your waist. You’re not sure what she finds so funny about this, but you bite your tongue when you start to catch on how she ties the ribbons with such ease.

Over ten years of being away from the castle can’t erase the time she spent there, tying her own robe every morning before she was stripped of her title, and in turn, also the life she worked so hard to build up.

As you look down at the smooth fabric sent to you a week earlier from the castle, you’re forced to begrudgingly admire the intricate embroidery. The collar and ribbons are decorated with a darker purple stitching that runs in all sorts of twists and turns and swivels around the curves of your body.

“They’ve made them look nicer since I’ve last seen them,” she thinks out loud, matting her hands down your shoulders to smooth the fabric down one last time before taking a look.

“I don’t understand why you’re still so—” You inhale sharply and press your lips together, warning yourself to not say anything more when she shoots you a cautionary look. “Sorry,” you mutter, turning away so you can glance at yourself in the mirror. You do look pretty nice, if you had to admit.

“Just think about the money,” your mother encourages. “They’re covering the cost of all your schooling—all those days spent at Mr. Min’s can now go towards things you enjoy, rather than paying for your university.”

“I guess,” you grumble, adjusting your hair one last time before grabbing your phone and keys, walking towards the foyer.

“You know the way right?” your mother calls out as you slip on your shoes and walk out onto the front porch.

“I wish I didn’t,” is all you say, low and under your breath as you make your way to the car.

The castle lies in the heart of the city, so it’s quite the drive. You’re careful as you try to keep your robes clean, bunching it up to your thighs as you drive, and once you’ve made your way to the castle, you’re sure to make sure the hem of the bottom doesn’t hit the ground.

Reporting to the entrance that was given in your email (why they send emails for instructions but not the actual invitation to your job still remains a mystery to you), you carefully tuck your phone into a crevice of your robes.

The entrance starts at a gate on the east end of the castle, and you make your way to the little hut that sits at one end where a woman in a lavender polo and dress pants sits at a desk. Knocking on the window, you smile nervously as she looks up from her papers.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes!” you say, holding up your phone and pointing to your first day instructions. “It’s my first day here, and I’m not sure how to get inside and all.”

“Did they give you a code?”

“Uh, yeah let me check again,” you murmur, looking back at your phone to find the 5 digit code you were sent. “It’s, uh—32423.” The lady hums and nods, checking something on her computer before looking up at you with a smile.

“That’s correct. From now on you can just come through the smaller gate on the side—it should be to the left of this big gate, and just put in whatever code you have. It changes every few days but you’ll be notified with the new password every time it does.”

“Thank you,” you say, glancing over your shoulder to look at the gate she’s talking about.

“For now, just follow me. Since it’s your first day, I’ll show you the way to the … where was it you need to get to?”

“Right here it says the Advisory Quart?”

The girl’s eyes widen as she sits up from her seat and walks out of the hut, leading you toward the smaller gate. “Seriously?” she asks as she punches in the code, the gate automatically opening once she’s done.

The gate leads to a narrow pathway that runs slightly uphill in the midst of a lush field of trimmed green grass and sparse flowers that was previously hidden from you by the large stone halls. You remember the scene vaguely, but it’s a lot lovelier in person than you remember. Glancing up the pathway, you catch sight of the large castle in front of you, and the vision has an uneasy feeling floating in your stomach.

“Uh yeah, is that surprising?” you respond, hoping the small talk will distract you, even if it’s only a little.

“I mean the Advisory Quart is no joke. Those people work like crazy dogs—” she says with a laugh before looking at you with wide eyes. “Wait, I’m sorry—please don’t tell anyone I said that, they’ll—”

“Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me. But please do continue—what were you saying? I haven’t been in that castle in a long—I’ve never been to the castle before, so I’m not up to speed with all the different Quarts and sectors and stuff.”

“Oh well, it’s just that the Advisory Quart does a lot of work … I swear they’re always running around, talking about some new project they’re working on,” she says as you follow her up some steps, nearing an entrance to a building connected to the castle.

“What kind of projects?” you ask curiously.

“Oh gosh, everything, I tell you, they do pretty much everything. From helping the King with his own decisions to doing absolutely random, huge projects, there always seems to be someone who’s on top of everything. I remember I had a friend whose husband worked up there—they were working on designing a whole new ballroom and no one had any idea why! So what are you going to be doing there?”

Chuckling nervously, you aren’t sure if you should tell this girl that you don’t really know. “One of those random projects, I assure you,” you tell her because you’re pretty sure it’s true. After all, you’re almost positive they won’t have you be doing anything that’s worthwhile.

“Ah, well you’ll probably be swamped either way,” the girl says with a sigh as you reach a large wooden door. “Anyways, we’ll part ways here. Just go through these doors and there’ll be a big hallway. Ignore all the different corridors and doors on the side, and just go straight and you can see there’s an open room at the end of this hallway. That’s where your check-in will be, and the people there will direct you to wherever you need to go.”

You blink a few times, taking in all the information before nodding meekly, bowing and thanking the girl for her time as she walks away. Taking a deep breath, you open the door with a loud creaking noise, stepping into the grand hallway.

The walls are beige with ornate accents lining the bottom and top, intricate designs carved into the ceilings that hang chandeliers in intervals. Your sandals clack against smooth travertine marble as your eyes roam the entrances to different corridors and rooms, doors dark and wooden, similar to the one you just entered through.

There aren’t many people in the long hallways, passing by only a few others who seem to have their attention busied by papers or their phone. Some of them are wearing similar fashioned robes to yours, while most of the others are wearing the same lavender colored polo and white slacks as the girl who brought you here.

Smoothing the fabric below your waist one more time as you near the large open room you were directed to, you glance around and find a desk with a kind looking receptionist talking to a man wearing your kind of robes.

Quietly approaching the desk, you stand a few feet behind him, patiently waiting for them to finish so you can step up. Neither of them seem to notice, being caught up in a conversation that seems a bit of a mix of professional and leisurely.

Twiddling with your fingers behind your back, you rock side to side on your feet as you wait for the two to finish up talking about how they’re excited for the next ball that’s coming up, not bothering to think about who these people might be and why they’re even invited to it.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the man at the counter calls out, “I can help you.” He smiles and waves you over before nudging the other man on his shoulder. “Seokmin, go—you’re distracting me.”

The man he pushed is a handsome looking guy, light brown hair falling just above his eyes as he turns around and gives a small smile, stepping to the side but not fully backing away. “Ah, sorry about that. Go ahead, we were just catching up.”

“No worries,” you say quickly, walking up to the receptionist. “I’m here to find the Advisory Quart I think? I was told to report to this entrance, and the lady at the front told me to come here—it’s my first time here so—”

“Your first time in the castle?” the other man asks you with wide eyes.

“Uh, well—”

“Don’t mind him—Seokmin, you know better than to mess with the newbies,” the receptionist murmurs, and you frown at the word. He catches on and looks up at you, holding a hand out. “No offense.”

“N-none taken. So could you help me—I’m really not sure where to go.”

“Yeah of course. Does your email say who you’ll be reporting to?”

“It says here ‘Mr. Park.’”

“Oh okay, his room number’s going to be 77, right down that corridor right there,” the receptionist tells you kindly, pointing at one of the side hallways you saw while walking here. “Since it’s your first day, I’ll let him know that you’ll be coming down so he can be ready. I’m sorry, what’s your name?”

“Thank you so much,” you say bowing, quickly telling him your name. So caught up in the kindness of these peers, you almost forgot why you were so reluctant to come here in the first place, but no worries, this receptionist does a good job of reminding you.

His lips press into a thin line as raises a brow, asking you to repeat your last name again. When your answer slips from your lips, it’s much quieter. A heavy cloud sinks over you as you realize that even after years away, your family name is still tainted.

“Okay,” the receptionist finally says briskly, and you’re taken aback by how cold his voice has become. “I’ll let him know you’re coming down. You can proceed now.”

He doesn’t give you a ‘good luck,’ or a ‘have a nice day,’ or a ‘do you have any questions,’ despite his cheery attitude from before. Now he’s looking at you with an expressionless face and eyes that won’t meet yours as you shamefully turn away.

So caught up in the disappointment, you hardly notice how the other man—Seokmin—is still watching the scene unfold. As you walk away from the open room, there’s a hand on your wrist. Whipping around, you’re faced with a Seokmin whose face seems unreadable, just like the receptionists. Except something is … different. He seems sincere, and you feel safe.

“You might get lost trying to get there,” Seokmin says rather casually, letting go of your hand and walking next to you. “Come on, I’ll show you the way—I’m working under Mr. Park too actually, I’m his intern—so I know the way pretty well and can fill you in on what he’s like.”

You wonder why Seokmin isn’t acting like the receptionist. Your family name is still somewhat taboo in the city outside the castle, so you were pretty confident when walking into the actual place of the ‘crime scene’ that you’d be even more … generally disliked.

Seokmin seems to be different though, and you can’t quite figure out why.

Seokmin lets you know Mr. Park is mean when he wants, which seems to be always. Direct with his words but also, you have to read in between the lines sometimes if you don’t want to get scolded. You’re not sure what to do with that information, because Seokmin doesn’t tell you much else.

You walk down the corridor with him before stopping in front of a wooden door to your right, labeled with that familiar sun emblem and a golden plated plaque reading ‘77.’ “C’mon, he should be in here right now,” Seokmin says, pressing against the frame and pushing the door open.

Inside is a room unlike the others you’ve seen before. The ceiling is much lower and baskets of plants hang from it, vines lining the limestone walls, and pots and beds of plants sit by the smaller desks that litter the area. There’s a larger desk at the end opposite to the door, and you see a man with grey hair and firm eyes sitting at the ornate chair, reading through a stack of papers.

“Ah, Seokmin,” he says, standing up when he notices the two of you by the door, and it’s not you realize that this man is Mr. Park. Both you and Seokmin bow hastily. “I was waiting for the two of you to arrive.” His gaze then turns to you, and it’s sharp. “What took you so long?” His tone is harsh and you almost wince. “It isn’t your first time in the castle,” Mr. Park says bluntly, and for once you are taken aback because no one has addressed the cloud hanging over your head so directly yet.

“I’m sorry sir, I haven’t been here in—”

“No excuses. Don’t be late again.”

“Y-yes sir,” you reply meekly, faltering in your step a little.

Mr. Park sighs heavily and looks at Seokmin, waving him off. “Go to the Ballroom and ask around to see if they need anything for tonight. Don’t be slow like last time.”

“Yes sir! Right on it,” Seokmin says with a nod, quickly turning on his heel and scurrying out of the room.

“And for you …” Mr. Park mutters as he takes in your figure with an unnerving look on his face. “I need you to lead a project.”

Your eyes bulge out of your head. “Lead a project? I don’t even know what—”

“Word has it that the Prince himself had to bribe you with a whole four years of Hong tuition to get you here. Surely you didn’t think you’d be given light work.” people knew about that?

“Well, I didn’t know much about anything and I don’t even know what work I’m supposed—”

“You’ll figure it out, soon enough,” Mr. Park tells you briskly, walking over to his desk where a large chalkboard sits to its left. Using a stick, he points at a word written in a corner. Garden. “The Queen has a courtyard that she no longer likes the look of. It’s been stripped down, and you’re in charge of turning it into a garden of her liking.”

You knit your eyebrows together. “A-a whole courtyard?”

Mr. Park raises a brow. “Are you saying that it’s too much for you?”

“N-no!” you exclaim quickly. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. I don’t get why I would be chosen to do this.”

Mr. Park huffs, and you wonder how such a tiny old man can fit so much sass in him. “If you must know: the Queen loved how your …” he pauses and within a fraction of a second you have a feeling where this is going, “… your mother designed the gardens on the West end.”

Mr. Park walks towards his desk and sits down, not looking at you as he cards through a few binders. “The Queen wants a similar style for this courtyard but since we can’t exactly have her back …”

You wince for real this time as you conclude, “… you tried to get the next closest thing.”

Mr. Park nods, not returning a snarky comment this time, much to your pleasure. “I’m the head of Design & Architecture, by the way, if you have any questions ask me—as long as it’s not stupid. You lead your project—design it and plan it. When you need people to work on it just talk to Seokmin and he’ll assign someone. You have three months to finish it. If you need an extension, you’ll have to get it approved by me.”

“Okay,” you respond quickly, trying to take in all the information at once. “Is there, like, a theme? Anything she wants in particular?”

“That’s a stupid question,” Mr. Park says bluntly and you frown as he points at a desk behind you. “Your desk is there. Any information you need will be there.”

“Y-yes sir, thank you,” you say, bowing and turning on your heel to sit down at your new chair. The desk is dark, wooden, and completely barren except for a thin folder set in the middle. Opening it, there’s a single paper inside with only a few bullet points typed out, and it hardly takes you a moment to read through all of it.

It’s vague—your only real requirements are the adherence to the kingdom’s symbolic purple colors, and inclusion of a general theme throughout the courtyard.

You furrow your eyebrows at the lack of guidance—were you really left to make such major decisions about such a large space in a castle you haven’t been in years? There’s so much room for error and disappointment and rejection, and after the past years of being treated like your family was nothing but a mistake, you aren’t sure if you can handle any more of it.

Closing your eyes, you absentmindedly nod to yourself in a silent promise. Closing the folder, you stand up. “Mr. Park, sir, do you know where the courtyard—”

“There is a map on the wall. Figure it out.”

You huff, glancing at the large map of the castle next to the chalkboard. This is going to be harder than you thought.

You run into Seokmin just as you leave 77, and he helps lead you to the courtyard. “So you’re working on this one, huh,” he says under his breath as you both appear in front of a large plot of land surrounded by castle buildings on all sides. You’re both standing on the East entrance to the courtyard, and there are four adjacent and opposite entrances on all other sides.

“Uh, yeah,” you say steadily, glancing back down at your minimal instructions before looking back up at the courtyard. It’s a square, and if you had to estimate, each side would be around 50 yards long, leaving quite a great deal of space for you to work with it.

“Pretty big project, huh,” Seokmin says, although his tone seems much more lighthearted than your mood. How the hell are you supposed to transform this in three months?

“Yeah,” you mutter, squinting at the bright sunlight as you analyze the plot.

“You know, I can totally help if you want,” Seokmin begins to say, and you take note of how quickly he talks. “I don’t know if Mr. Park told you but you can basically ask me for help on anything and like, I’m really doing this whole interning thing for fun—” Who the hell works as an intern for Mr. Park, for fun? “—so I’d be happy to help.”

“Thanks. I’ll ask if I need anything.”

“Great!” Seokmin cheers, clapping his hands together before looking behind your shoulder and letting his smile brighten. He waves at someone behind you and you purse your lips together, wondering if you should brace yourself for yet another salty interaction.

“Minnie!” a deep voice greets and suddenly, your feet seem glued in their spot. You know that voice.

“Shua, hey!” Seokmin says cheerily, and you silently cringe. “Crazy running into you here, gosh, I haven’t seen you since last week!”

Prince Joshua laughs, and it reminds you of all those years ago when you watched him from inside the greenhouse. You hate how you remember.

“Yeah, my fencing instructor let me off earlier so I thought I might browse around the castle for a bit,” he explains, and when it all goes quiet and you realize that he must be looking at you, but you don’t dare to turn around.

“Oh,” Seokmin exclaims, as if he’s just realized that he forgot something. You feel a tapping on your shoulder, and for a second you debate just running the other way and never letting yourself return to the castle but for something, you’re planted in your place. “Hey, look,” he says quietly in your ear, “It’s the Prince.”

Like you don’t fucking know that. Nodding, you slowly follow his lead and turn around, eyes trained on the ground as you bow.

“Oh, well if it isn’t that little ray of sunshine,” Prince Joshua says, and it takes everything to not let your eye twitch as you finally look up at him. He’s wearing the same royal uniform you say to him when you showed up on his doorstep and his eyes are crinkled as he smiles widely.

Your face burns as Seokmin’s eyes flicker back and forth between you, and your lips are pressed together in an awkward silence. “You know each other?” His face displays nothing but perplexion for a few moments but then it seems that some of the cogs turned and his lips open wide into a large ‘o,’ and Seokmin waves his finger while nodding. “Oh you’re the girl Shua said he had to offer four years worth of—”

“Seokmin,” Prince Joshua interrupts, putting his hand over his friend’s mouth after catching the look of mortification on your face for bringing it up. “Mr. Park was calling you, I’m pretty sure.”

“Ugh, are you kidding me? I thought this would be fun for the summer but he actually has me doing stuff!” As the two converse casually, you wonder how hard it’d be to quickly slip away.

“Not sure what you expected,” Joshua chides his friend before Seokmin groans and you hear the heavy footsteps of him walking away. He calls out your name once and your eyes shoot up as you bashfully wave your hand at him, bidding goodbye.

You’re left in this corridor with the empty thoughts in your head and the goddamn prince of the kingdom. You half expect him to just wave at you and go about his own business, but it seems like you still have a lot of learning to do.

After all, Prince Joshua is a fickle man. “It’s nice to see you again, Sunshine,” he greets, and you think you might pass out from embarrassment. Glancing around, you see a few maids overhear him using the name and murmuring their own whispers amongst themselves as they rush away.

“H-hi,” you say nervously, suddenly aware that much attention is on you now that the prince is speaking to you.

“So this is what you’re working on?” he asks curiously, not paying a single mind to your awkwardness, walking toward the door which leads to the East entrance to the courtyard.

“Yes sir,” you murmur. You could be snappish outside the walls and in the boundaries of your own home but here, you’re bound by royal courtesy and witnesses that surround you. Compliance is all you can manage out in the open.

“Don’t call me sir—you’re around the same age as me, so it feels weird,” Joshua says dismissively, and you furrow your brows at how casual he’s being. “So,” he starts, looking out at the empty yard of dirt, “you got any idea of what you’re going to do with it?”

“Not a clue,” you reply honestly, keeping your answers brisk. Joshua seems to catch on and he pouts at you. How can a man act so childish? The thought lingers in your head for a moment before he starts talking to you.

“So cold. Brighten up Sunshine. I’ll stop in soon to see how it’s going here—I’m interested!” he says cheerily before stepping back and nodding. You bow as he walks away, waving to you one last time before leaving you in the corridor with not a single thought in his mind.

There seems to be a distinct odd air around the prince, except you can’t quite place why that is.

It’s been three weeks since you started working at the castle—time passes quickly when you have loads of work to do and not much time to do it. You spent the first week hunched over at your desk simply raking your mind for ideas, for anything that would give you even a smidge of inspiration.

77 is rather sparse. It’s only really you and Mr. Park actually working in there, with the occasional Seokmin running in and out to tend to everyone’s miniscule needs.

And then there’s Jihoon, who is the only other person who actually works at his desk, even if it’s only for an hour a day. Jihoon is slightly brooding and always has his nose buried in some work, but he seems standoff-ish to just about everyone. He isn’t unkind though, just … just reserved, and you feel thankful that there’s another person somewhat like you here.

77 is kind to you and your heart. Everyone works on their own schedule and is in their own head, and no one seems to treat you extraordinarily different. You wish the same would go for the rest of the castle.

On the second day of your work, the embroidered name on the fabric over your right breast was clear enough for people to start learning who you were and recognize your face.

But you’re used to the stares—both the subtle and obvious ones—and you are used to the whispers, the guessing games about whether or not you’re a slut just like your mother was.

You’re not, by the way, but you’ve had enough experience with these kinds of people to know that they can guess all they want but you know the answer, and the truth will come to light at some point. You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone, they'll figure it out on their own. Eventually.

By the second week, you figured out a plan and needed to get to work on executing it. Seokmin seemed to be pleased when you asked him for help on that.

“I need people who can build a pathway,” was all you needed to tell him and then he was on the phone, and then the next day you had ten men ready for you by the dirt field ready to work. “I want stone tiles and it needs to curve exactly like this,” you told them, showing them a scaled down map of the area with a long, curvy line running from the North to South ends, and another even more curvy one running from the East to West end.

They didn’t ask questions, which you’re grateful for, because coming up with it was a whole feat on its own. Explaining it would be a whole other story.

As you walk up to the castle’s entrance today, you catch sight of a girl who sits in her little hut in front of the East gate. She’s the same girl who helped you on the first day, you realize. She was kind then, you remember, but now as you meet her gaze, she turns away and pretends to go back to her phone.

You don’t frown or let the gesture sear your heart because in all honesty, that’s exactly what you’re expecting. Sighing, you make your way to the smaller gate and walk the small way up to the actual castle grounds before heading straight to 77.

Jihoon is sitting at his desk but is just about to get up, sending you a quick nod as he stacks his files and walks out of the room. Mr. Park isn’t here, for once, although you did overhear some information about a ball happening tonight so you figure he must be busy.

You’re thankful Seokmin is here, and you catch him watering one of the plants. “Hey, what are you doing?” you ask him hastily, walking up behind his back before grabbing the watering pot from his hands.

“Um … watering … the plants?”

“These are yarrows,” you emphasize, pointing at the white flowers he was just watering.

“Okay … I am really not sure what to do with that information,” Seokmin says slowly as if he isn’t quite processing your words.

Huffing, you tell him, “Yarrows don’t need a lot of water. You aren’t watering them … I think a better word would be drowning.”

“Oh,” Seokmin mutters, looking down at that pot that’s now rich with soaked soil. “Sorry, I, uh, didn’t know,” he apologizes, and you purse your lips together because he does sound sincere.

“It’s okay … sorry for being mean about it,” you add quietly, returning the pot to his hand. “I can send you a list later—of all the plants here and how much water they need.”

Seokmin’s ears perk up. “Really? Thank you, but you seriously don’t have to, you know.”

“I know, but I enjoy talking about plants and stuff. And I’d rather the ones in this room be taken care of nicely, so the least I can do is help you,” you offer before retreating to your desk. “I think I need your help by the way, so can you come with me?” you ask, pulling out a measuring tape from a drawer.

Seokmin nods, dropping the watering bucket by his own desk and following behind you as you leave the room. The journey from the Advisory Quart to your courtyard, which is located near Royal Residence Quart, is quite the walk, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little bit pleased that you had someone like Seokmin as company.

“How’s the project turning out?” he asks as you make your way down the long hallways. You catch a few other workers spare the two of you glances and you try to hold your head up and look forward when you respond.

“I’m a little behind,” you admit. “But the construction manager told me that they should be finished with the pathway today, and I asked them to start tilling some other parts of the field so I can get some flora in there soon.”

“Oh really That’s nice—I stopped by the place just the other day and the pathway was looking pretty cool—the color fit in really well.”

“Hm, that’s good … I was worried about that,” you murmur to yourself thoughtfully, pulling out your phone so you can glance at the list of things you need to get done before heading back to 77. Tucking the device back into a crevice of your robe, you smile as you near the East end courtyard entrance. “I gotta get a plaque up here or something,” you remind yourself, looking at the empty space above the entrance.

“You want me to get on that soon?” Seokmin offers and you shrug.

“I guess. I’ll still have to come up with a name for this place …” you say, walking into the courtyard.

“Wow,” Seokmin mutters as he follows behind you. “The pathway looks great!” He pats your back and you throw him a small smile when you look over the two twisting paths that connect the 4 ends of the courtyard. “What was it that you needed my help with again—Oh hey! Shua!”

Oh for fuck’s sake—

“Seokminnie!” that familiar, smooth voice appears from behind you as Seokmin turns on his heel and scurries toward his friend. Slowly and carefully, you tuck your hands behind your back and bow when you turn around and are met with the sight of Prince Joshua. “Sunshine,” he greets with a smile after exchanging his casual pleasantries with his friend.

“Good morning sir,” you murmur as Seokmin bounces up and down on feet from a newfound excitement. How does he have this much energy at nine in the morning?

“I thought I said don’t call me sir,” Prince Joshua tells you, scrunching his face up when you let the word slip from your mouth. “Feels weird.”

“I’m sorry but you’re kind of the prince. I don’t think there’s anything else for me to call you other than ‘sir,’” you huff lowly before slapping a hand over your mouth. You’re not scared of what Joshua might do, per se, but the thought of someone else overhearing your snarky remark has you reminding yourself to be more careful.

Joshua only chuckles. Is there anything that bothers him? “You’re funny,” he comments. “You can call me Joshua, like Minne over here,” he tells you, patting Seokmin’s shoulder affectionately.

Your face sours and you shake your head, “I’m sorry that doesn’t feel right.”

Joshua rolls his eyes playfully, choosing to ignore what you said and instead looks around the courtyard. “Nice pathway. It’s cool that it isn’t straight—is it supposed to be something?”

“Sort of,” you say, turning around to look at the stone on the ground. “It’s confusing.”

Joshua scoffs. “Try me.”

You furrow your eyebrows. Why Prince Joshua—or as he would like you to call him, just Joshua—is so curious about a random courtyard is beyond you. “They’re just lines that follow the movement of sunlight. I guess. I don’t really know how to explain it.”

“That’s cool,” Seokmin chimes in when he sees you pulling out a roll of measuring tape. “Oh yeah, sorry, I didn’t get to hear what you said you needed help with.”

“Oh yeah, I just want to measure a—”

“Sorry for interrupting,” Joshua says, and you frown when he pulls out a buzzing phone, holding it up to Seokmin’s face. “What did you do this time—why is Mr. Park calling me?”

Seokmin’s eyes widen in panic as you watch the scene unfold. “What?! I haven’t done anything wrong recently. Well I don’t think I did and I’m pretty sure—”

He’s cut off by Joshua pressing his finger over his lip, effectively shutting him up. You almost laugh at the way Seokmin complies so quickly, but hold it back as Joshua holds the phone up to his ear. The sounds that come from the call are muffled but you can vaguely make out the voice of your boss before Joshua sighs and ends the call.

“What are yarrows and what did you do to them?” he asks his friend, and this time you actually do stifle out a giggle. Joshua glances at you as you quickly press your lips back into a fine line, both of you turning your attention back to Seokmin whose ears are turning bright red, shoulders tensing up.

“Oh no—I really don’t want another scolding!” he whines.

“Well buckle up, because he’s asking for you back at 77 right now,” Joshua shrugs as Seokmin huffs, stomping off back into the corridor and presumably back toward the Advisory Quart. “Sorry,” he says, turning to you, “I keep sending your assistant away when you need him.”

“It’s fine,” you say gruffly. “I, uh, I can still do this all by my stuff so it’s not really a big deal.”

Joshua narrows his eyes. “Are you sure? I don’t have fencing for another …” He glances down at his star studded wrist watch for a second, “… thirty minutes so I can help out.”

To say you’re mortified by the offer is an understatement. A prince helping out you? He must be fucking with you because—

“Stop giving me weird looks. I know how to help out around here, you know?”

“Duly noted, but I’m not sure how it would look on my end if the prince was helping me out with—” you gesture to the field around you, “—yard work.”

Joshua laughs, and once again you’re left in perplexity. “Weren’t you the one who reminded me that this is the 21st century? I don’t just sit around and do nothing, you know that right?”

“But still,” you mumble.

“Okay fine. If you’re so obsessed with this royal hierarchy thing, then I, as Prince Joshua, am officially requesting you to let me help. Surely you won’t turn that down.”

This man is so weird.

“Fine,” you relent, holding up the measuring tape. “You see that little circle in the middle where the pathways sort of curve around? I need to measure the circumference of it.”

“That’s it?” Joshua asks casually, grabbing one end of the measuring tape as you make your way to the plot. “Oh, I mean I guess it’s kinda big,” he adds, glancing down at the measuring tape. This one only goes up to 15 feet.”

“You’re right,” you mutter to yourself. “Okay here, let’s just use this,” you say, pulling out a roll of thin string and handing one end to Joshua. “If you stand here I’ll just circle it around and measure the length of the string,” you explain, unraveling the roll and walking around the outer edge of the circle, trailing the string behind you.

Joshua just stands in the spot that you placed him, holding the string and frowning. “I feel like I’m not helping much.”

“Trust me,” you reply under your breath. “You’re helping me just enough.” You don’t mean it to come out bitter, but it does anyways.

“What happened to all the royal hierarchy stuff that you were on about?”

Your eyes harden on him as you’ve made it halfway around the length of the circle, pausing to make sure he notices your subtle glare. “If you didn’t know, this is kind of my job on the line, and while you’ve made it clear that what I say doesn’t affect you, I’m not sure the same could be said for what other people see. So I’m sorry if I don’t want people looking at us and getting the wrong idea.”

“What do you mean the wrong idea?”

Huh. And here you thought that with all those royal tutors, the prince would be smart. Too bad for Joshua, but right now, he’s coming off as just about the densest guy alive.

You’ve been working at the castle for five weeks now. Since your last meeting with Joshua (he insists you get rid of the ‘Prince’ and ‘sir’ so diligently now that even in your head, you’ve removed him of those honorifics), you’ve only seen him twice.

The first was three days after he helped you measure the length of your soon to be pond. You were on the phone with a construction contractor in 77 when Joshua popped in to say ‘hi’ to Seokmin (how and why the two are friends, you don’t know, and you don’t care enough to ask). Noticing you were here past the regular working hour of six, he waited for a few moments to let you finish up your call before walking up to your desk.

“You know you don’t get paid overtime, right Sunshine?” he asks, confused on why exactly you were still here.

“Well work needs to get done,” you sigh heavily, taking a few seconds to clean up your desk and throw away a few old designs you sketched earlier.

“Hey, those looked cool, why’d you trash them?”

“They didn’t work,” you tell him, rummaging through more papers to find the few that you actually wanted to keep.

“Told you,” Seokmin comes up from behind Joshua, patting his shoulder. “She’s a tough judge—even on herself.”

“I get what you mean now,” Joshua murmurs, nodding along with his friend.

Your eyes snap up. “Why are you talking about me as if I’m not here—wait, why do you guys talk about me when I’m not here anyways?”

“You’re like the only one that’s nice to me in 77! Well, sort of,” Seokmin reasons with you.

“I mean you do kind of suck as an intern—”

“Hey! I just happened to get distracted a lot. I’m an honest worker, trust!”

You huff, finally finding the paper that you were looking for. It’s a design for a couple plaques that you want posted above the entrances, and you tuck it into a folder.

“Is that in Latin?” Joshua piques when he catches a glimpse of the wording.

“Uh, yeah—you know Latin?”

“He’s a prince. Of course he does,” Seokmin tells you, turning around to nudge his friend on the side. “This spoiled brat has been learning Latin since he was six!”

Joshua scoffs. “Who’re you calling a spoiled brat? You were in those classes with me too!”

You consider wondering about who exactly Seokmin is and why he was in those classes with a prince, why he’s so close with Joshua, and a plethora of questions run through your mind, before you remind yourself that you really don’t care.

“Yeah but—” Seokmin tries to reason with his friend before you stand up and both of their attention are directed at you.

“You’re right Pri—Joshua. I don’t get paid overtime, so I’m gonna get going now.” You bow at him and then Seokmin, grabbing your folder and bag before pushing in your chair and heading to the exit. Awkwardly, the two boys say bye to you before glancing at each other.

“That was weird,” Seokmin says, and Joshua shrugs.

“I guess.”

“Did you actually understand what she wrote or were you just bluffing? I don’t remember shit from those Latin lessons.”

Joshua rolls his eyes and nods. “Yeah, but I only got the second word. Said ‘invictus,’ I think.”

“Huh, cool. Got no clue what that means.”

“It means undefeatable, dipshit,” Joshua groans. “Seriously, how’d you pass that class!”

“Hey, I was a great student—I just have, uh, bad memory,” Seokmin pouts.

“Yeah I can tell … seriously, how did you manage to fuck up the yarrows even after she,” Joshua gestures behind him as if to point at where you exited just a few moments earlier, “sent you all those instructions and all!”

“God, don’t remind me. I actually feel really bad, ‘cause Mr. Park yelled at her too for giving me ‘the wrong instructions,’ but I really just forgot what she told me.” Cringing at the mental image of both you and Seokmin being scolded by Mr. Park, Joshua shakes his head—that is not a pretty scene.

Joshua sighs, the two of them making their way out of the empty 77 and walking down the corridor towards the Royal Residence Quart. “Why’re you even interning for him? You don’t need a job, especially not as one being an assistant.”

“My dad’s pissed at me, remember?” Seokmin tells his friend gruffly, and Joshua purses his lips at the mention of the older man.

“Right.”

“Wanted to punish me for the summer or whatever, but I guess it’s not too bad. The staff are actually pretty funny, and your Sunshine girl is really bossy so she gives me a lot of work to do.”

“I can’t tell if you’re complaining or celebrating.”

“Both, I think,” Seokmin replies, the two of them laughing together. “Why do you talk to her so much? She’s even snappier to you than to me, and trust me, I can be pretty damn annoying.”

“Like I don’t know that,” Joshua mutters teasingly, earning him a punch on the arm. “But anyways, she seems interesting. Like cool, you know what I mean.”

“I guess,” Seokmin says absentmindedly. “Wonder what my dad would say about that.”

“Okay well your dad isn’t the King so I don’t really think it matters what your dad says about it.”

Seokmin raises a brow. “You sure? My dad almost had me transferred out of 77 because he heard I had to work with her.”

“Well that’s his own problem I guess. Just don’t let him bring it up with my dad because I’m not keen on having any more drama in this castle,” Joshua mumbles, stopping in front of the big door that leads to the residence.

Seokmin nods at one of the guards standing by the door, and she presses a code to a small box on the wall and the doors open. “You coming? Dinner’s about to be served,” he calls to Joshua when he walks forward but realizes his friend isn’t by his side.

Smiling, Joshua shakes his head and waves Seokmin off. “I’m gonna take a breather for a bit. Tell them to start dinner without me.”

Seokmin laughs. “You know they won’t do that.”

“I know, I know, but it’s the gesture that counts anyways. I’ll be back in twenty, trust.”

The second time you saw Joshua was yesterday evening just as you were just leaving 77 to head home, your arms full of papers to look through in the night. After getting the pathways cleaned up, you needed to work on adding more structures to the courtyard, but were at a loss of what to make and what to make it with.

With your stack of papers that were littered with different possible materials and architectural structures that you promised yourself to get through by the end of the night, even if it meant pulling a whole damn all nighter.

“Is Sunshine leaving at a normal time for once?” Joshua asks with a faux gasp as he comes across you in the hallway.

With the paper’s digging into your arms, you can only manage to grunt out a short, “Thankfully, I am,” before increasing your pace so you can get all this stuff to your car as quickly as possible.

“Hey, wait!” Joshua calls out from behind you, and you almost whine because your arms are killing you and you aren’t sure how much more of this you can handle. “Do you need help? I can—”

He’s cut off by the sound of your phone slipping from your pocket and crashing to the ground. “Shit,” you whimper under your breath as you try to balance all the papers on one hand while crouching down to pick up your phone with the other. You’re wobbling under all the weight, and you have half a mind to give up right here and now but then a larger hand is pushing itself into your vision.

“Here,” he says, quickly turning over the device to check for any cracks on the scene. In that fraction of a moment, your phone turns on and flashes your very bright and very embarrassing lock screen. Your face burns as you snatch the phone from his hands and tuck it back into your pocket. “Is that Percy Jackson?”

Adjusting the papers in your hand, you shuffle your feet and start walking toward the exit. Joshua follows, as expected. “Uh, yeah—I know it’s embarrassing but—”

“Uh, you did not just say that,” Joshua scoffs, and when you catch the oddly offended look on his face, your annoyance dissipates for a moment. “Percy Jackson is not embarrassing. Those books were like the defining character of my pre-teens.”

You chew on your lip, wondering how you should respond to this. “That’s cool. I used to like the stories too …”

“Seems like you still do, considering it’s like, your lock screen and all.”

“Look, I just have it ‘cause it looks cool,” you tell him bashfully, speeding up the pace of your steps in hopes that it’ll bring this conversation to end faster.

“Uh yeah, sure. Totally believe you.”

“I’m serious,” you huff. “I liked the books ages ago, but now I’m only interested in Greek mythology. It just so happens that the best art of Greek gods comes from Percy Jackson fan artists.”

“Sure. sure,” Joshua says blankly with a smirk teasing at his lips. “Again, totally believe you.” You don’t know why his subtle teasing has you gripping onto your papers so tightly, why it has you gritting your teeth together. And then you remember who this is and it all makes sense.

Joshua is playful and lighthearted, but he is still the Prince, after all.

Your sixth week at the castle, and you’re nearing the halfway mark for your project’s timeline. You’ve spent the past week working on getting some stone benches built into the courtyard, and just this morning you sent in an order to get some plaques engraved.

Mr. Park stopped by when you were checking out your progress earlier, glancing at the pathways and the nearly completed seating. He didn’t say anything, simply nodding and walking along, and you figure that that’s the best you’ll get from him.

Your day goes by fine, for the most part after that. When you take your lunch break at the cafeteria, Seokmin tags along and you’re pleased that for once, you won’t have to eat alone. He has to leave soon after though—apparently Jihoon called for his help, and so you’re left to take care of this afternoon’s work by yourself.

Not that you mind—people let you be in the castle, and it’s actually quite nice for getting work done. When you return to 77, it’s only occupied by Mr. Park who, as always, pays no mind to you. Taking a look at your schedule, you aren’t sure if you feel like smiling or frowning when you see your next activity lined up.

Visiting the greenhouse.

There’s an odd feeling that blooms in your stomach as you walk there. You haven’t been to this side of this castle yet, partly because you don’t need to, but mostly because you don’t want to.

It’s when you leave the walls and take your way out to the Northeastern gardens of the palace that the pathways start ringing bells in your head. The familiar green bushes that you remember your mother tending to. The fields of daffodils, and the little built in canals that lead toward the row of greenhouses—it’s all flooding back to you, and you can’t figure out if you like it or not.

When you first came to the castle, you figured that you could avoid confronting the remnants of your past, but you should’ve known that everything eventually goes full circle.

Which is how you find yourself standing in front of the greenhouse where everything—your life, your mother’s life, all of it—ended on that day over ten long years ago.

Taking a deep breath, you go up to the door of the largest greenhouse ,tentatively tapping on the blurry glass before pushing it open. Peeking inside, you’re met with the familiar sight of flora arranged in neat lines of soil beds.

As you step in, the air is moist and stuffy—when you inhale, you’re reminded of those early Saturday mornings where you sat by your mother’s desk and watched her tend to the plants. The humidity was usually uncomfortable, but you learned to love it. Right now, you learn how much you missed it.

“Can I help you?” a gruff voice interrupts your thoughts, and you whip your head around to find an elderly woman glaring up at you.

“Hi, I called earlier and you said I could take some of the hyacinths. I just wanted to ask which greenhouse they’d be in because—”

“31C,” she says bluntly, immediately turning back around to tend to whatever she was doing earlier.

You watch her for a few seconds blankly, before snapping out of your haze, “O-okay, thank you.” Pursing your lips, you let your head hang low as you start walking toward the door.

“That damned slut,” the woman mutters quietly. You don’t think you want to hear it, but you continue to listen anyway. “Thinks she can just send her daughter over and—”

“And?”

You don’t think you’ve ever been more happy to hear Joshua’s voice.

Looking up, he’s just entered through the entrance you were about to exit through, and while you would usually mull over the possible reasons he would be here, you’re far more focused on watching the bewildered look on this woman’s face

“Nothing sir!” she replies quickly, back straightened as she presses her hands behind her back. 

“Good to hear,” he says simply. You watch from the side as Joshua gives her a look that you can’t really gauge before turning to you with a brighter look on his face. “Seokmin told me I would find you here?”

“I—yeah, he was right.”

“Well I can see that Sunshine,” Joshua chuckles and waves your hand in a gesture to follow him. You don’t have any other choice than to follow him out the greenhouse and into the much freer, lighter air. “What’re you doing here anyways?” he asks when you start finding your way to 31C.

“I need to look at some flowers.” Joshua asks you quite a bit about the courtyard, and although you don’t really get it, you’ve learned that it’s easier to just reply to his questions honestly than try to avoid them.

“For the courtyard?” he piques as you finally find the smaller greenhouse, opening the door to thankfully find it empty of anyone else.

Your gaze lands on a bed of hyacinths as you reply, “What else?”

“Okay, you need to stop answering all of my questions like I’m stupid.”

Huffing, you pull up a pot from under the bed and fill it up with soil before digging your hands into the dirt around one of the hyacinth plants. Your fingers search under the earth before feeling against the roots and carefully pulling out the plant.

“Maybe stop asking stupid questions then,” you suggest.

“Seeing as you think I’m dumb … do you want to tutor me?”

“What?” you deadpan, looking up at him with your hands still in the dirt. “Why?”

“I mean like, you’re smart and all, plus we get along—”

You click your tongue, finally pulling the plant out of the soil and pressing it into the pot. “Not so sure about that second part.”

“Okay well we have some shared interests and stuff—”

“Like?” you counter, walking over to a sink so you can wash the excess soil off.

“Percy Jackson. Greek mythology?”

Your ears perk up at that. “You like Greek mythology?”

“Yes! See! That’s like, already two common interests, Sunshine.”

“More like only two. And one of them is a book series I haven’t read in about nine years so I’m not even sure it counts,” you rebut.

“Oh no, it definitely counts,” Joshua counters, watching you pick up the flower pot and head towards the greenhouse exit. “Wait, we’re diverting from the point here.”

“What is the point again?”

“You need to tutor me!” he whines as he follows behind you, up the pathway back to the castle.

“I need to? Uh, sorry, but I don’t think tutoring the Prince is under my job description.”

“This is a different job though!”

You knit your eyebrows together. “Am I getting paid?”

“You might,” Joshua smirks. “I’ll pay you by the hour.”

Pondering, you chew on the inside of your cheek, before you finally respond, “How much are we talking?”

Joshua grins, shaking his head. “Should’ve known money was the way to your heart Sunshine.”

“Money is not the way to my heart. It’s just the way to get me to tutor you. Don’t mix those two up.”

“Don’t worry Sunshine, I wish you all the best in finding your sugar daddy husband eventually.”

Glaring, you chastise him. “Joshua!”

“Why did you ask me to do this again?” you ask, stepping into the room Joshua has just led you to. It’s near the Royal Residence Quart of the castle, and you’re a bit on edge. Joshua assured you earlier that no one would question why you of all people would be here with him, but you’ve also noticed that the boy can be a bit distant from reality.

“Because,” Joshua starts, watching you look around the room (it is a very nice room; bookshelves line the walls and there’s a grand desk in the middle, a rolling chalkboard on one end and a vintage map on another rolling board scattered off to another end). “I don’t like the royal tutor they have, and you’re smart,” he says casually.

“You can’t ask for another one?” you murmur, raising a brow as he moves to the desk and hands you a folder.

“I could, but my mother would get upset if I keep running through them. I’ve changed my tutors far too many times by now.”

“Ah,” you say dryly. “The extreme difficulties of the royalty. How unfortunate.”

“Sunshine,” Joshua grins, ignoring your snarky comment. “Can you at least pretend you want to be here?”

“Um, I’ll think about it,” you reply honestly, pursing your lips together as you glance at his chalkboard which has a list of things he needs to go over. “What is it that you need help on?”

“Well I’m good at math and stuff but Literature and Chemistry are quite literally killing me,” Joshua says with a sigh, sitting down at his desk.

“Literature?” you ask with narrowed eyes. “You’re the Prince—isn’t Literature supposed to be like, I don’t know, your forte?”

“Who told you that?” Joshua asks with a pout, pulling up a packet of papers and letting it down on his desk with a thud.

“I don’t know, I guess I just assumed they’d be having you read Machiavelli or something like that from the age of two.”

Joshua scoffs, holding up the book so you can read out the title. Oh, it’s The Waste Land. “Okay I get that this is a kingdom and all but seriously, who even uses Machiavellianism anymore? That’s from like six hundred years ago.”

“Less than that,” you correct, but shrug anyways and sit down at the chair on the other side of his desk. “But whatever, you need help with The Waste Land?”

“I mean, yeah I’ve read it a bunch but I just never get it and my mom is obsessed with it for some reason and I really don’t want her to make me sit through another read of it so I really need to write up something good on it that will satisfy my Literature instructor and my mom so I can get it out of the way.”

“A paper?”

“Yeah, you know: analyzing themes and stuff.”

“Okay I know what a paper is,” you snap and Joshua rolls his eyes.

“Look now you’re just picking fights over everything I say. Just relax and—”

“I am relaxed,” you huff, but the tension in your shoulders says otherwise. To be honest, you’re still not sure why Joshua decided to choose you of all people, as if you haven’t made it clear multiple times that you weren’t his biggest fan.

You can respect the effort, you guess, but the way he seems so unbothered by your snarkiness is getting a little bit irritating.

“Whatever you say Sunshine,” Joshua says with a shrug, turning the packet and handing it to you. The poem is littered with annotations, underlines, and highlighter marks all over, and you squint for a moment trying to remind yourself of what you remember from the last time you looked at the work. “You read it before? The Waste Land?”

“Uh, yeah, ages ago though. Like back in high school,” murmur, flipping through the pages to jog your memory.

“Why were you reading The Waste Land in high school? Seems like too much, no?”

“Well not everyone was granted the freedom to do as they please with whoever they please,” you tell him, eyes flickering between Joshua’s curious face and the packet in front of you.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Joshua asks, and his voice is slightly whiny.

“It means that people didn’t want to talk to me so I had to spend my time reading. Even if it was ‘too much,’ or whatever you said.”

“Oh,” Joshua’s voice is quiet. See, you remind yourself, clouded from reality is what Joshua is. “Well I—”

“Forget it. I think I’m going to have to go home and reread The Waste Land if you want me to be of any help. What else do you have to work on, or do you just want to do Chemistry?”

“Uh, sure we can move onto Chemistry,” Joshua replies hastily, tucking the paper back into his folder haphazardly before shoving it into a drawer and pulling out a much thicker notebook. “I kinda need help with a lot of it. Like—I’m sorry I just don’t get it—what the hell is an electrophile and a nucleophiles and why the hell I need to know them for alkanes and—”

“Slow down,” you say, sticking your hand out. You grab the notebook from his desk and skip over the contents before looking back up. “If you want me to do this for you, we’re going to have to start from the basics, okay?”

Joshua gives you a look which tells you he doesn’t think he needs to do that, but you open the notebook to a new page, pulling out a pen. Begrudgingly, he nods and leans his head in to see what you’re writing.

He’s oddly compliant when you ask him to be, despite his jumpy and bubbly personality, and for a fraction of a second, you wonder about his potential. Quickly, you push that thought out of your mind.

It’s late afternoon when you reach the courtyard, smiling at the progress. You told the workers to get started on digging up the pond this morning, and you’re pleased to see that there’s already a large dugout in the century.

“Good work!” you chirp to Jungho, the contractor you talked to over the phone. He seemed nice enough over the phone, but you soon realized within the first time that you two met in person that he was just as standoff-ish as the rest. “But we’re going to need to get the insides patted down and compressed so when we put the water in, the soil won’t just soak it up,” you try to tell him casually.

Jungho points his thumb behind him at some of his men. “Yeah we have a guy for that,” he says gruffly, not even meeting your gaze.

“Thanks … maybe have it finished within a week?”

“Okay. Anything else?” Jungho looks around awkwardly, before adding. “Want us to get the water in there too? Then we can get outta … outta your hair and stuff and don’t have to keep coming back.”

“Uh, no—there’s some lining I want to do with the pond, and I’ve got to do that before there’s water in it. But it’s something I want to do myself, so you can just take care of compressing the soil and I’ll take it from there.”

Jungho gives you a weird look but you brush it off. “Alright. We’ll have it finished by tomorrow,” he finalizes, and with that he turns on his heels and walks back to his workers who you can tell were watching him from the corner of their vision.

“Why are those guys looking at you like that?”

You whip your head around, seeing Joshua standing just a few meters away from you on the pathway coming in from the East entrance. He glances around and finds a marble bench that’s just been made, sitting on the edge casually.

“Joshua, you’ve seen people look at me like that before and I think you know exactly why,” you mutter, walking over to where he sits. Joshua doesn’t respond and instead averts his gaze to the ground.

There’s a stray kitten bouncing around at his feet, and he’s quick to drop to his knees on the pathway and engulf her in his large hands. It would be an endearing sight, you think. Sorta, you guess.

“Whatever. You’re still coming in on Sunday right? My instructor prepared this stupid Chemistry exam for me on Tuesdays and I know you can’t help out on Mondays so I kind of really need you to help me on Sunday so I can prep. So please, please, please—”

“You know I’m gonna come in, so you don’t have to pester me so much about it,” you say with a sigh, putting your folder down and crouching on the ground so you can pet the kitten. She’s cute, with wide slanted eyes and soft brown fur, the wet kitten licks feeling warm against your palm.

“But you put up with it, don’t you?” You roll your eyes but Joshua still grins when you don’t disagree.

“I don’t understand you,” you mutter, truthfully speaking your mind as the kitten rolls around in Joshua’s lap. You smile without thinking, and Joshua carefully watches your usually taut face unravel in front of him.

“Are you kidding me? I’m literally an open book. You know Sunshine, you can find my whole life on Wikipedia.”

You giggle. You fucking giggle at that, and it’s hard to tell who is more surprised between the two of you. “You know that’s not what I meant,” you murmur, struggling to hold back another laugh, the kitten jumping out of his lap to play around on the ground under the gentle hands of you and Joshua.

“Not that I would know. You think I’m stupid anyways.”

“What? No I don’t.”

“Oh my god, please don’t even try to counter that. When I told you I didn’t know why helium was named helium, you looked at me like I was the dumbest person to ever live.”

“Okay that’s only because you say you like Greek mythology! How could you not put that together—it’s so obvious! Helium and Helios sound totally alike, and everyone knows helium is like, one of the most abundant elements in the sun.”

“Maybe you know that. You’re also insanely smart,” Joshua counters.

“Whatever you say. But for the record, I don’t think you’re stupid. Maybe a little dense, but that’s it.”

Joshua pouts. “Aren’t those basically the same thing?” You know he’s only being playful, but something about the way he says it makes you think twice. He’s being sweet. So sweet, it feels almost bitter.

“No. You have a smart head, Joshua. Honest. I think you just gotta learn how to use it,” you tell him, more softly this time.

“Thanks Sunshine,” he replies gruffly and you frown, realizing that your attempts to make him feel better haven’t quite worked.

“I’m serious. What? You don’t think I’m serious?” Joshua shakes his head, and you roll your eyes when you pick up the kitten yourself and pull her into your lap.

“You’re mean. So no, I don’t think you’re being serious.”

You gasp, using the hand that isn’t playing with the kitten to place it over your chest dramatically. “I am not mean. I’m just honest. I’m being honest right now.”

“Whatever,” Joshua quips, turning his nose and looking away pettily.

“Okay, are you actually upset?” you groan, cradling the kitten up to your chest. You aren’t sure if you’re more annoyed because you can’t tell if Joshua is upset, or because you might be the reason he’s upset.

“Who knows. Not that you would care.”

“I obviously care, because I’m asking,” you deadpan, letting the kitten roll around in your arms, letting out a squeak of surprise when one of its claws gets caught in the belt of your robe, making a tear in the silk.

Joshua gives you a funny look when he says, “You can be quite pestering when you want to.”

“Congratulations! You now know how I feel.”

“See what I mean! You’re mean. I want the kitten back.”

You clutch the little close to your chest and nuzzle your face into her neck. “No can do. I’m afraid she’s mine until you admit you know I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“Oh my god, is this how it feels when I annoy you?” Joshua grumbles, throwing his head back. “Remind me to never pester you again. Ever.”

“Self awareness is great and all, but like I said, you’re not getting her until you admit it.”

“Fine. I don’t think you think I’m stupid. Happy?”

You hum and shake your head. “Mm, no. Gotta sound more convincing.”

Joshua knits his eyebrows together. “If you’re so insistent on this, then I guess it must be true. I don’t think you think I’m stupid,” he repeats, but his tone is gentler this time.

“Good work.”

Joshua stands tall on a hill. His broad shoulders are sharp with his straightened back and taught jaw. The sky is orange and you watch him from below, the clouds moving slowly above his head in the background.

He’s looking out at something, but you can’t quite tell what. It’s off in the distance, but his eyes are dilated and unwavering for a few long moments.

Wind whistles in your ear, and then the sky grows brighter and brighter until it’s no longer orange and suddenly turning yellow and then white. So white that it hinders your vision and you’re wincing through the light until you realize Joshua is not on the hill anymore.

You look around frantically to no avail—you can’t see anything but white with black spots in your vision and you feel like you’re going blind. And you want to scream but when you open your mouth no sound comes and the blowing of wind grows louder and louder until it sounds like you’re at the beach.

Looking around, you see your legs knee deep in ocean water and you’re no longer hearing the rampage of wind and instead the crashing of waves against rocks. There isn’t a hill anymore, there’s a cliff, but still no sight of Joshua.

It’s still so bright, so bright and you close your eyes tightly again until you feel a shade fall over your figure. A gasp escapes your lips when you see what’s above you.

Wide wings, ornate with white and golden feathers, perched over Joshua’s back as he hovers above you. He’s not looking anywhere else now, only you.

His face glows and then he smiles and you close your eyes one last time but when you open them again, all you see is darkness.

You’ve never been great at remembering dreams. More often than not, you wake up with no remnants of the life you lived in your head the night before, and on the rare occasions that you do happen to recall something, it’s only just random snippets that also hardly make sense.

Last night was no different, although you do wake up with an uneasy feeling, not because of what you dreamed about—you don’t remember that—but because you know you dreamed about Joshua. It’s just the wake up call you need to tell yourself that maybe, just maybe, you’re spending more time with him than you should.

It’s a Saturday morning as you trudge out of bed and to the kitchen, trying to settle the weird feelings that course through your veins when you see your mother brewing a pot of tea. “How’d you sleep?” she asks, not looking up from the boiling water.

Shrugging as you grab a home-grown orange, you respond, “Well enough.”

“Can’t believe they have you going to the palace on the weekends too … I never had to work on Saturdays or Sundays.”

You wonder how she brings up her time at the castle so casually—you don’t know if you’ll ever understand her. “I really don’t have to—I can work on my own schedule basically whenever, as long as I get the courtyard finished by the end of three months.”

“And how’s that going?”

“Behind schedule. Obviously. That’s why I’m heading in again.”

Your mother smiles and walks over, ruffling your hair. “I’m glad you’re working hard on this—I can tell you’re enjoying it, as much as you didn’t want to go there.”

“It’s nice, I guess. I get to be creative, and get paid. Really, getting the money is all I care about,” you tell her casually, taking the peel off the orange and popping a piece into your mouth.

“You don’t talk about it much, but I’m assuming people don’t give you that hard of a time? You always come home fine.”

They do, it just doesn’t happen to be anything you’re not used to. Your mind flashes to Joshua and Seokmin for a moment, and you’re once again reminded of the unnerving fact that you did dream about the former, and you can’t even remember what it was about. “Things are fine.”

You’re three tutoring sessions in with Joshua, and it’s finally the day that you pull out your own copy of The Waste Land. “Oh thank god,” he says with a breath of relief when he sees it. “This paper has been bugging me forever—if we didn’t get started on it soon I might’ve combust.”

“I appreciate the vivid imagery,” you say dryly, “but I really did not need to picture that in my head.”

“Sorry,” Joshua says with a shrug as you sit across from him. “So what’re we gonna do today, Sunshine?”

“Hmm, get through the first part hopefully. We can read it back and forth and talk about it together, so you can take notes. It might be easier that way, so you can get all your thoughts and ideas out, and then it’ll be easier for you to write that paper.”

“Sounds boring.”

“I guess I’ll just pack my stuff and—”

“Okay! Okay! I was just joking. Let’s start, please,” he complies easily, and you smirk as you sit back down.

“Good to hear. Read this part.”

You’re around an hour and a half into the lesson, still working through the first part as Joshua frowns when you finish another stanza.

“Do we have to keep going?” he whines.

“Yes we do. Let’s work with this part now. Read it out for me,” you instruct, pointing out a stanza on your own paper.

“Why—” You give him a look. “—okay fine.”

‘You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;‘They called me the hyacinth girl.’—Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could notSpeak, and my eyes failed, I was neitherLiving nor dead, and I knew nothing,Looking into the heart of light, the silence.Oed’ und leer das Meer.

When he’s done, Joshua looks up at you blankly. “If I’m being honest, I have zero clue what this means.”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You’ve said that every time you read a new section, but I know that’s not true, because you literally always come up with something.”

Joshua scrunches up his face and slaps his hands to his cheeks in frustration. “But now I’m being serious! This is making no sense to me—I hate Literature, okay? My brain is dead right now and I don’t think I can do any more Sunshine.”

“We’ve been doing this for less than two hours,” you say bluntly. “Look—you said you like Greek mythology right? Try and draw some connections. Maybe that’ll make this more enjoyable.”

“I hardly think T.S. Elliot could produce anything I enjoy,” Joshua huffs as he tilts the page so he can read it better, “But fine. I still don’t get what about this has anything to do with mytho—oh!”

“Finally! You get it?”

“Hyacinthus!” You nod eagerly, gesturing your hands to tell him to go on. “Uh, it was that story with Apollo. Shit, what was the story again?” He looks up and taps at his chin, but when you open your mouth to help him out, Joshua sticks a hand in front of your face and shakes his head. “No wait, I remember. The one where they were in love but Apollo accidentally killed him when they were playing a game!”

“You’re right. The blood of Hyacinthus was eventually turned into flowers by Apollo to honor his death or something like that. In the context of this poem … the giver of the hyacinth flower is almost like a sign of—”

Joshua snaps his fingers in the air and grins. “Forgiveness!”

“Well, not exactly giving forgiveness, but asking for it.”

“Kind of like … saying you’re sorry?” Joshua smiles brighter when you nod. “Holy shit, maybe I do enjoy T.S. Elliot.”

You roll your eyes and point at his notebook and pen. “Good, now write that down. You are going to have to write about this, remember?”

Joshua pouts, but picks up the pen nevertheless. “Whatever you say Sunshine.”

“Joshua told me to tell you that he thinks T.S. Elliot sucks,” Seokmin says, coming up to you in the cafeteria as you polish off your own tray. It’s a large and grand area—an old ballroom that turned into a commonplace for the workers.

Large mirrors plate the walls, and across from you, you can watch Seokmin’s reflection as he sits down next to you. Rolling your eyes, you turn to look at him, “He’s only saying that because I told him to write the paper himself.”

Seokmin furrows his eyebrows as he places a white box, a little larger than the size of your hand, on the table. Glancing around, you catch people in the mirror watching you with wavering gazes before turning away when they find you looking at them.

Huff lightly, you turn your attention back to Seokmin. “What’s this?”

“Joshua told me to give it to you.”

That’s new. Tentatively, you lift the lid a little to peek inside, only finding a haphazard mess of stuffing paper with something purple concealed underneath. “Would it be a smart decision to open it right now?”

“Oh my gosh, it’s not an explosive or anything.”

“You don’t know that!”

Seokmin rolls his eyes himself this time. “Yes I do. I packed it.”

“Ugh, even worse. I’m not opening it if you’re around. That’s embarrassing.”

“Is not! I think that you should—” Seokmin is cut off by the sound of his own phone ringing, cursing under his breath when he sees the caller ID. For a moment, you consider peering over and taking a look, but Seokmin stands up too quickly. “I gotta go for a second. I’ll catch you before you leave!” he calls out when he’s already pushing his chair in and rushing off into the distance.

You laugh at his hurry, wondering what could possibly ensue such nervousness from the boy, but you quickly remind yourself that this is Seokmin and he gets the jitters when he even has to think about being around Mr. Park for more than twenty minutes.

Soon, you start to clean up your area yourself, putting your trays away and throwing away your trash in the weirdly fancy bins they have scattered around the hall. As your lunch break nears its end, you grab the oddly light box, your phone, and make your way back to 77.

The room is empty, safe for Jihoon who’s got his head buried in his laptop, and you think it’s a good time to check what’s inside. If it is an explosive, you’ll just have to apologize to Jihoon in the afterlife.

Opening the lid, those same, crumpled papers lay on top, but this time you notice a little white card in the middle. Pursing your lips, your eyes flicker to your side to see if Jihoon’s watching (he never is, but it doesn’t hurt to check), and when your privacy is confirmed, you flip the paper over.

There’s a message written in purple pen, adorning a handwriting that you can distinctly recognize as Joshua’s.

Thank you for all the help. I really owe you one.

You aren’t quite sure what he’s talking about, and you make a mental note to ask him about it when you see him later. Right now, you rummage through the papers, hands feeling the space beneath them before they land on a smooth layer of fabric.

Confused, you pull it out, only to see it’s a ribbon, much like the one tied around your own waist. Same color, same material, same emblem, the only difference being …

You glance down at your own robes where the ribbon has a small tear at one end from where the kitten had pawed at you. You have to blink a few times to realize what Joshua’s intentions were, and when you do, you can’t help the warm smile that begrudgingly makes its way onto your face.

Quickly, you tug the ends of the ribbon around your waist and let it unravel, taking the new ribbon and tying it just as your mother taught you. It’s the same thing as the one before, yes, but this is different. This is a gift.

Donning Joshua’s (your?) ribbon, you start to clean up your desk space and tuck your old ribbon back into your bag. You forgot to tell Seokmin you’re tutoring Joshua this afternoon, so as you pack up you text him a sincere ‘thank you’ message, and let him know that you might not be able to see him before you go. You don’t get a response, which is slightly odd since Seokmin seems to always be on top of things, but you shrug it off and remind yourself that he’s busy.

Today, you make your way down the smaller halls with a little skip to your step. Joshua showed you this pathway earlier so it’d be easier to get to his study room without being seen; it’s a nice little series of corridors that are a little dimmer and narrower, but still hold the lavish feel you always get walking through the palace.

You can hear the voices of a few people, but it seems quiet, hushed, and somehow a little heated—in other words, caught up in their own world. Being in the castle for almost two months now, you’ve learned to realize what kind of situations need your caution and which ones don’t. This is the latter.

You smile to yourself, smoothing your palms over the new, not-torn silk ribbon around your waist, as you near the second entrance to his study, about to enter another hallway to the final stretch and—shit.

When you turn a corner, your heart stops.

You turn back and run down the corridor. You don’t know if Seokmin saw you, and quite frankly, you don’t care.

It didn’t take you more than a second to put two and two together and suddenly you’re pushed back into your nine year old body—you don’t really know what’s happening or why it’s happening, all you know is that it hurts.

You’re going to have to apologize to Joshua for flaking on him. Surely he’ll understand that you were just a little bit upset by the sight you had to see.

After all, you did just witness Seokmin, quite literally your only real friend in this damn castle, speaking to Advisor Lee, the man who tore your mother’s life down. And now is when everything starts to click, because you realize that Seokmin is Advisor Lee’s son.

Of course he was close with Joshua—he probably grew up on these very castle grounds. Of course they attended the same classes—his father was the King’s advisor and cousin.

It makes sense now, and in your bleary haze as you make your way back to 77, you’re not sure what to do. You rush past a few other staff members murmuring under their breath when they see you, and you usually wouldn’t be bothered by the sight but now you remember that this is the first time you’ve cried since you got here, and it’s all because of that man who started this all in the first place.

As you lock yourself in one of the staff bathrooms, you catch your disheveled appearance and furiously wipe at your cheeks. Fuck. You shouldn’t be crying. You can’t be crying over this, because god knows you did not spend years thickening your skin for it to be cut open like this.

You should’ve known. Should’ve fucking known.

You try to stop your tears, telling yourself that they’re all the same. That you shouldn’t have expected anything more from these people, that you should’ve picked up on how Seokmin was definitely someone important, that you should’ve never fallen for his and Joshua’s sweet games.

“Shit,” you gasp out as a sob rips from your throat, and you clutch the side of the sink as uneasiness bubbles up in your stomach and spreads through your limbs until you’re trembling.

Maybe you let him get so close because you thought he saw you for something else. Maybe you believed that he saw you as more than a pity project. More than someone who was defined by their past.

Joshua and Seokmin—they knew. They knew everything this whole damn time.

And now you’re angry—you’re so fucking angry. Tugging at your hair, ripping up your clothes, and thrashing your limbs around kind of angry. The kind of anger that poisons your bones and makes your body ache until you can’t take it anymore. The kind of anger that wraps its hand around your throat and squeezes the air out of you until you can do nothing but relent. The kind of anger that has you looking at yourself in the mirror and thinking, what the fuck.

The worst thing is you can’t even be mad at him. You want to be mad at him and you want to be mad at Joshua. You want to have the will to go up to them and slap the smiles off their faces because how dare Seokmin be the own flesh and blood of Advisor Lee, and how dare Joshua know and not have the guts to tell you.

Because after everything, Seokmin and Joshua were your friends and—fuck—they were some damn good friends. Your best friends, maybe, if you ever had the liberty to even know what that means.

And it wasn’t because they were overly nice, or excessively cheery, or because Seokim was always grinning and Joshua was always smirking, but because when they talked to you, they were talking to you, and not some shell of your past.

Finally, now, when you press your face into your hands as your last attempt to calm yourself down, you feel like you can breathe. You’re not sure where your head is at, and something tells you that it’s gonna take a damn long time to figure it out.

You’re a little lost.

You were just trying to get to the South end entrance of the courtyard but you must have taken a wrong turn or something because you’re walking down a corridor you’ve quite literally never seen before. It’s similar to the hallways of the rest of the palace, but it’s slightly taller and a bit more narrow, and the workers walking through wear faces that you aren’t familiar with. You’re a little nervous about where your feet are taking you, and you consider just turning around and retracing your steps when you hear a voice.

Seokmin’s voice is loud when he calls your name, and you press your lips together tightly when it rings in your ears. “What are you doing here? You usually don’t come down to the South e—” he starts to say when walks up to you from a corridor to your left.

“Nothing,” you reply briskly, turning on your heel so your back is pretty much facing him. “I was just leaving actually.”

“What—hey! Slow down! Where’re you going?”

“77,” you mutter under your breath as you speed up your pace.

“Slow down!”

You don’t relent. “Seokmin, don’t you have stuff to do right now instead of following me around?” You can’t see the look on his face, but you can only imagine it’s one of defeat.

“I—” his voice is quieter this time, “Okay.”

The footsteps that were one following you die out, and as you browse the corners of your vision, you conclude that he’s finally left you alone. You should feel relieved—happy that he’s not bothering you now—but sometimes uneasy churns inside of you, and you aren’t sure what it is.

The rest of your day goes as it usually does in a palace. You tend to your work and as it hits late afternoon, you start making your way to Joshua’s study. Once again, you’re not sure where your head is at.

“Is everything alright?” Joshua asks you the second you walk in. “Seokmin told me you looked upset and wouldn’t talk to him so I—”

You inhale deeply before, putting your hands up in a stopping motion. “I can’t tutor you anymore.”

Joshua looks at you weirdly. “What, why?”

“Or talk to you,” you add.

“What—”

“Just—just don’t talk to me. Or ask me to tutor you. Or ask for my help, or ask to help me—you know what just like—I dunno, stay away from me.”

“Sunshine, where is this coming from?” Joshua pinches the bridge of his nose, and you don’t think he’s understanding the weight of his words.

“Why do you even talk to me?” you snap. “Like seriously, if you can bother any worker in the castle, why does it have to be me?”

Hurt flashes in Joshua’s face for hardly a second before he frowns deeply. “I—what’s going on?”

“Do you and Seokmin think this is funny? Being nice to me like—” You throw your hands in the air. “—like I’m some kind of joke?”

“What? No, Sunshine, what are you even talking about?”

“I know who Seokmin’s dad is.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” you scoff. “So if Seokmin still wants to know why I don’t feel like talking to him, maybe consider telling him that I’m not interested in being around someone whose father is literally the reason me and my mom’s lives have been so fucked up.”

Joshua winces at the last statement. You’ve been irritated with him, annoyed with him, and all that petty stuff, sure, but this is different.

“Seokmin isn’t like that, okay? He isn’t—you know—like that.”

“And how would you know?” you snap. “Prince Joshua, what do you know about having people be, quote unquote, above you? You have everything in front of you, and when people look at you and Seokmin it’s not ‘cause of some fucked up scandal which pinned your mom as the kingdom’s slut of the century, it’s ‘cause they literally bow down to your presence and—”

Something tells you to stop yourself. Maybe it’s the fact that you know you’re not actually angry at them. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re so fucking tired of being angry all the time that you can’t take it anymore. Maybe it’s the fact that when you finally look him in the eye, Joshua looks sad.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says meekly. “Seokmin should—we should’ve let you know earlier. I promise we didn’t be your friend just ‘cause of that,” he rambles. “I mean obviously we knew about it but we didn’t wanna bring it up because everyone was bringing it up and—I’m sorry. You know Seokmin isn’t like that.”

“And you?” you quip, but you know your retorts hold no weight. “How do I know you aren’t like—like that.”

Joshua falters and you watch him gulp. He looks tired and his lips are red from how hard he’s been chewing on them as you speak. “Y-you know,” his voice is quiet, “You know I’m not.”

You have your answer before you even have to think about it, but you pause for a few moments, waiting to respond. All that comes out is a shallow breath as you look down and squeeze your eyes shut. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I just—” You sigh weakly. “I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.” Joshua doesn’t respond—he knows you’re thinking.

You wonder what to do with yourself. You’re not angry. Not sad either. Uneasy? Maybe. It’s the uncertainty of it all. You don’t understand why you’re not mad, and you don’t understand why you want to forgive him so easily, but you’re starting to realize that you should stop trying to understand the things that might never make sense.

Finally, you nod. “It’s fine.”

“Sorry again. I guess we didn’t wanna make that whole thing all about you. Because like, you’re you, and whatever happened is separate.”

You purse your lips and nod. “Thank you.”

“Was that sarcasm?”

You glare at him. “Dipshit, no it wasn’t!”

“I’m taking this as a sign that you’re feeling better. Am I correct?”

You bite back a smile and shrug. “I guess.”

“Cool, ‘cause I think you’d like to know that my mom stopped by the courtyard the other day.”

“Oh yeah? What’d she say? This is all for her isn’t it—hopefully she liked it.”

“Yeah no, she said it was great. She thought the patterns of the pathway were cool and so she asked me if I could figure out why they were designed like that and I said no. By the way, why did you design them like that?”

“There’s this song I like. It’s called Isohel, and when I first heard it, I liked it a lot,” you explain. “Searched up what it means and stuff and then a few weeks later I was taking some filler class for the credits and my professor goes on some tangent about god-knows-what, and somehow he brings up pictures of an isohel map. An isohel—it’s basically a line which maps out the places that have the same duration of sunshine. Pretty cool, I think.”

“Is that what the pathways are? Are they—what is it—an isohel?”

“Mhm. On an isohel map, they’re not always just lines—they come around full circle sometimes so it looks like these funky, squiggly ovals sometimes,” you ramble. “So I took one of those circle-ish things and broke it up and pieced it together like a pathway.”

“That’s really smart.” Joshua pauses. “You’re really smart.”

It’s not the first time someone’s told you that. Fuck, it’s not even the first time Joshua’s told you that, but it feels different now. He means it, you know it in your bones.

“I-I dunno,” you stammer. “I guess. It just relates to the theme of the sun. My mom taught me about it when I was younger—I loved the sun.”

“So that’s what the theme of your courtyard is? Me and Seokmin have been betting on that for ages.”

You scoff, “You guys bet on that? Seriously, do you have nothing better to do with your time?”

“Clearly not!” he shoots back, causing you to laugh. “Are you really feeling better now?” Joshua asks sincerely, and when you smile and nod, he grins. “Hey, I just realized you talked to me about your feelings—”

“Don’t mention it,” you snap gruffly, crossing your arms over your chest.

Joshua clicks his tongue and chuckles. “There’s the Sunshine I know.”

It’s the next day when you walk into 77. Jihoon’s desk is empty, Mr. Park is just about to leave as you enter and you bow to him quickly as you settle in your desk. Seokmin is in the corner watering the yarrows, seeming to not have noticed you yet.

You watch him closely, smiling softly when you notice he stops before he can overwater them. Quietly, you set your stuff down and Seokmin begins to talk. “Oh, Jihoon, Mr. Park was just looking for you—oh,” he cuts himself flat when he turns around and sees you.

You’re not sure what to do, because Joshua didn’t exactly tell you if he told Seokmin about your conversation and what not, but the look on Seokmin’s face is telling you that he’s just a little behind on the news.

“Hey,” you say casually, throwing a hand up to wave at him as you set your bag down on your desk. Seokmin opens his mouth and then closes it a few times, as if he’s searching for the right words but they don’t quite come out for a few moments.

“Joshua told me that, uh, you know that—” He pauses and glances at you, trying to watch for any hints of anger on your face, but none comes.

“Don’t worry about it,” you say with a shrug, and Seokmin has to blink twice because he’s not sure he heard you correctly at all.

“W-what?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “I said don’t worry about it,” you state again, and then add more softly, “You’re not your father. I get it.” You get it more than anyone. “Anyways, did you get the workers to start planting the hyacinths?”

Seokmin shakes his head once to snap himself back into reality and then shakes his head again a second time. “Wait no, I mean—wait, yes! I mean yes! I did do that—I should go remind them to get on that,” he rambles quickly, clearly a little flustered.

You chuckle. “It’s good to see you’ve been watering the yarrows properly now. Mr. Park finally beat it into you?”

“Y-yeah I guess. I’ve been getting better at remembering them all,” he tells you, starting to fall into a more casual tone. It’s normal, you think. Nice and normal. Nice and normal and just what you need.

“What are you doing here?”

When you turn around with your bag slung over your shoulder, you’re surprised to see Joshua. “Um, working?”

“It’s a Saturday night,” he states, lips pinched together in a funny expression, like he can’t figure you out.

“I think I know that,” you chuckle. “I didn’t know if I could come in on Monday—I need to stop by the university campus for something—so I just came in today to take care of some stuff.”

“You’re a dedicated worker huh … you should just work here forever—the pay is great.”

“Mm, I’m not sure about that,” you say honestly as you look him up and down. It strikes you now that Prince Joshua truly is a handsome man. Dark velvety robes that are even more grand than the ones you’re used to seeing on him, well fit dress pants against his legs and shiny leather shoes that seem to fit his image perfectly. “Anyways, I heard there’s a ball tonight? You’re not going?”

Joshua shrugs as he turns around and starts walking, waving you over to follow him. “C’mon follow me.” You contemplate your choices before telling yourself, what’s the worst that could happen, scurrying on after him. “I left—it got boring, so I got about twenty-five minutes before someone calls me and asks me to come back. My bets are on it being Seokmin ‘cause he’ll get bored.”

You snort at that as the familiarity of this route starts to sink in. “Hey are we going to my …”

“Yeah. Seokmin told me you finally got it named, and I want to check it out.”

“Uh, yeah,” you murmur bashfully—you hadn’t expected Joshua to be that interested in it. You walk through the empty corridors to the hallway that has the North entrance of the courtyard, and Joshua cranes his neck up to look at the golden plaque that rests above the entrance.

“Sol Invictus, huh.”

You nudge him on the side playfully. “You know what that means, Mr. Latin Genius?”

“Of course I do,” he retorts with a roll of his eyes. “Sun god, or whatever,”

“God of sun, but you were close enough I guess,” you mutter as you walk through. The courtyard looks different in the night. It’s nearly done, and as the little warm lights you had placed in intervals along the path light up the scene, you can’t help but feel overwhelming pride with how well you’ve done.

“C’mon, let’s sit here,” he says, pointing down at the circular patch of grass that surrounds the pond in the middle. Joshua sits down first and you watch him carefully before quickly sitting next to him as well.

The grass is cool under your skin, but as a comfortable silence envelopes you and Joshua, you start to think you really don’t mind.

“I think lots of people think I’m stupid or something,” Joshua finally speaks up, and some uncomfortable feeling boils in your stomach at the words. “You know, the only thing people usually compliment me on is my fencing, really. And fencing is one of those things that, if you’ve been doing it as long as I have, you sort of gotta be good at it.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“I know. Thank you.” There’s a silence as he reaches over the stone lining of the hyacinth beds, plucking a few from the shrubs.

“Joshua!” you complain. “I had those planted just last week.”

“It’s fine,” he mumbles, handing the two he plucked to you. You don’t hesitate to keep your palms open for him, his fingers brushing over the skin of your arms as he does so. You rub the smooth petals between your fingers and a thumb, bringing one close to your chest before taking the other and handing it back to Joshua.

He looks at you, eyes clearly confused, but holds it to his own chest anyways. With your hands behind you on the ground, you lean back and look up at the sky, letting your shoulders relax. The night air pinches at your skin, but the soft fabric of Joshua tuxedo is warm as it brushes next to you.

“Why’d you name this pond Eridenus?” Joshua asks, pointing at the plaque by the pebble lining which spells out the word in fancy lettering.

“You don’t know where it’s from?” you sigh, lifting your head so you can shoot him a stern look. Joshua rolls his eyes and nudges your cheek with his shoulder, motioning you to lean back down at him.

“You know I’m a rascal—I’m forgetful. Tell me what it means.”

“It’s confirmed: you’re a fake mythology fan. I’m suing the universe.” Joshua chuckles and pokes you, egging you to go on. “Do you remember the story of Phaethon?”

Joshua hums. “Uh, son of Helios. Didn’t believe that he was his son. Asked to ride his carriage but lost control and almost burned the Earth?”

You shrug. “Well that’s most of it I guess. He’s racing down to the earth and everything is chaos—rivers boiling, forests on fires, people turning to ash—and so Zeus throws his bolt at him and kills Phaethon right in the sky.”

“Kind of like the story of Icarus. But the opposite I guess. Instead of getting too close to the sun, he brings the sun too close to the earth.”

“You could put it like that. They have the same meaning, I think. But anyways, Phaethon falls out of the carriage and as he dies he falls into this river called Eridenus.”

“Oh.” Joshua’s voice is quiet as you both watch the gentle water lap back and forth in front of you. The small waves hitting the stone barriers of the pound is the only sound that permeates the night sky, besides your shared breaths and the occasional whistling of wind.

“It’s kind of like—” You.

“Don’t say it.” Joshua’s words are crisp and short, and he doesn’t look at you. You want to say the words—I’m sorry—but they get stuck in your throat and ripple through your limbs as you scoot closer to him.

“Anyways,” Joshua finally says, but the word is only followed with silence.

“I think you need to get back to the ball,” you tell him quietly, lifting your head from his shoulder. Your skin burns from where it was previously pressed against him and you silently chide yourself for letting yourself get so close.

Joshua finally turns to face you, and you’re surprised when he chuckles. “So eager to get rid of me, Sunshine?” You scoff, pushing him away gently.

“I-I just don’t want you to get in trouble!” you stutter as you push yourself off the ground, Joshua following suit.

“Aw, so you care about me?” His eyes crinkle up in that familiar way when he says it and you can’t help the childish grin that makes its way onto your face.

“More like I don’t want you to complain to me about how you got scolded!”

“Mm, sounds a lot like you care about me,” Joshua counters, returning your smile with one of his own. You roll your eyes and carefully skip in your dress toward the exit on the North end of the courtyard.

When you almost trip over your robes, Joshua catches you and his rough palm presses against the small of your back as you regain your balance, the two of you giggling together as he drops you off at 77 before heading to the ballroom.

It’s almost laughable how happy you are. Silly you for forgetting that fairytales don’t happen in real life.

The walls look brighter, the chandeliers that hang from the ceiling seem to glitter a bit more, the ground seems smoother; you enjoy walking through the castle in a way you never thought you could.

It’s a normal evening and you’re nearing the end of your time at the castle, but you choose to ignore the odd feeling you get when you think too long about leaving this place. There’s still more work to get done, and you don’t want to spend your time focusing on things that you know will only distract you.

You’re in the middle of Sol Invictus today, looking through a paper and phone as you go through some old plans and checklists, trying to figure out if there is anything you should do before you pack your bags and head towards Joshua’s study.

Just as you’re about to unclick your pen and tuck your things away and head back to 77, someone speaks to you from behind.

“A lovely courtyard we have here.” You know this voice. Everyone knows this voice.

Your blood runs cold as you turn around and face the King, neck craning down immediately as you bow down, stepping away while you hold your hands behind your back.

“G-good evening sir,” you stutter, almost tripping over the stone of your own pathways when you stand up and straighten your back. It’s your first time in years seeing him in person, and you tell yourself as your stomach churns that this was bound to happen at some point.

“Care to tell me about what you’ve got going on here?” he asks, walking around the little stone circle that surrounds Eridenus. “You’re the head of the project, is that right?”

“Yes sir,” you reply quickly, bowing again slightly when he finally goes full circle stopping next to you. His hands are behind his back as you watch him look over the almost complete fields of flowers. “I—uh—it’s called Sol Invictus,” you say. “The—”

“God of Sun.”

“Y-yes sir. Apollo and Helios,” you begin to explain. “Which is why I’ve used these flowers—they’re from one of Apollo’s love stories. They’re quite beautiful, if you ask me, and they fit the kingdom’s colors well.”

The King hums in response. “That’s interesting,” he finally tells you, looking down at Eridenus in front of you. You follow his gaze, staring down at the clear water as you feel your heart rise to your throat in anticipation. You don’t really know what you expect, but if you were preparing yourself for anything, it wasn’t the King saying, “It’s my understanding that you talk to Prince regularly, is that right?”

Your breath hitches in your throat and lodges there along with your heart. “Well, I wouldn’t say—”

“I was speaking to Mr. Park just yesterday.” Oh. “You seem to be a very smart, professional young lady, and it shows in your work.” This can’t be good. “However, I am obligated to remind you: there are boundaries within these walls between the family and its staff.”

“Of course sir. I understand.”

The King watches you carefully, and just when you think he's done, he continues. “There are guards around the castle at all times. there isn't much they miss, I’m sure you know.” This isn't good. This really isn't good.

“It's quite impressive,” you agree, thumbs pressed against each other behind your back. You hear the king take a deep breath, and you wonder if he sucked the air out of you doing so.

"I've heard the pond here is named Eridenus.”

"Y-yes sir."

"Interesting," he murmurs. "Phaeton asked for a bit more than he could handle, didn’t he?" the King chuckles but you hardly hear it over the way your heart pounds. "Let mistakes be learned from, alright?"

You feel your knuckle might buckle. Is this how your mother felt? All those years ago?

The King’s words aren’t nearly as harsh as the advisor who berated your mother, but still, your body sways—you can’t tell if it’s all in your head with all the thoughts that race through, or if it’s the sheer weight of his words that has you almost stumbling.

“It was good to meet you. I’ve enjoyed what you’ve done with this space,” he comments finally, and you step away to face him 

“The pleasure was mine, sir,” you bid, bowing as he turns and walks back to his assistants who whisk him away. You watch the King fade into the distance and disappear to the North end.

He spoke to you for a reason, and the King was right. You are smart. You are smart and professional, and tonight, you know exactly what you must do.

“We need to talk,” you state firmly, closing the door behind you in Joshua’s study. You’re supposed to tutor him tonight, and he doesn’t look up at you as he writes away in his notebook, a smirk making its way onto his face as he starts to speak.

“That’s all I get, Sunshine? No ‘hi,’ ‘hello,’ ‘how are you?’” he teases, but then he looks up at you and catches the grim look on your face and the sound of him dropping his pen echoes through the room. “What is it?”

He stands up so quickly that his chair falls down, but Joshua pays no mind to it, his hands gripping the end of his table as his eyes bore into yours. “What is it?” he asks again and this time he’s hissing it. You know he doesn’t mean to be harsh, but your heart sinks even further than you could imagine.

“Joshua,” and when you say it, your voice is meek. You shouldn’t cry over this—fuck, you hate crying, especially if it’s because of his people. You’ve done more than enough crying over them in your life—you can’t cry over any of this anymore.

“Sunshine, what’s going on? You’re scaring me,” Joshua eggs you on worriedly, moving away from his desk so he can walk over to you. One hand cups your cheek, and you’re struck by the realization that this is the most intimate he’s ever been with you.

What unfortunate circumstances, you think.

“Your father,” you say, having half a mind to push his hand away from your face, but you keep it there because you don’t think you’ll have the will to keep on talking if he’s not touching you.

“What about him?” Joshua asks hastily, grip on your jaw tightening.

“He knows, Joshua, he knows.”

“What are you talking about?” Joshua furrows his eyebrows and asks the question but there’s that voice in his head telling him that he already knows the answer.

“A guard saw us at the courtyard and—”

“We didn’t even do anything,” Joshua tries to protest and with just one look at his face, you can tell he’s trying to figure out ways to rebut whatever that stupid guard saw that night.

“Joshua, you know we can’t do anything about this,” you say exasperatedly, your voice a little louder now that you clutch the elbow of his arm that’s holding your face. “I overheard him talking to Mr. Park.”

Joshua’s eyes widen. “Mr. Park knows? What about your job? Are you going to get to finish the project? Are you—”

“Joshua,” you choke out, and for once you cannot stop your tears. “I don’t care about my goddamn project, I care about you.”

“You love that courtyard,” Joshua argues, and you wince at the way he’s still thinking about that damn courtyard. You brush his hand off of you and for a second it looks like his heart has just broken in two, but then you reach for his face and hold his cheeks with your own two hands.

His skin is smooth and supple with the light grain of stubble that itches against your palm near the underside of your jaw. “Joshua,” you whisper, and it’s now that you feel the warm drops of water hit your skin. Joshua is crying and you don’t think you’ve seen anything that saddens you more. “Don’t cry, please don’t cry,” you beg, fruitlessly wiping away his tears as he silently cries into your hands.

“Why’re you acting like this is the end?” he hiccups and he must hate the sound because he slaps a hand over his mouth and buries his face into it.

“Joshua, no,” you murmur and pull him into you so that his hands can fall and you can cradle his head into your neck, letting your own tears drip onto the silk of his shirt. “It’s not the end,” you try to reason, but he pulls his head away to look down at you with glassy eyes.

“You—you’re lying to me,” Joshua says harshly.

“What are you talking about, I don’t—”

“I know you. I-I—fuck—I fucking know you,” he spits out, causing you to falter backwards. “Why do you think we can’t work this out? I’m the prince, I can—I can change everything and we can be together—”

“Your father —”

“Who gives a fuck, I’ll be king soon anyways and—”

“What if he does something?! What if he revokes your title?”

You’re met with stillness and you think Joshua might just comply with your silent plan but suddenly he’s shaking his head vigorously.

“Okay, then let him. I don’t care about being prince, I—”

“You can’t throw your life away Joshua, not for me!” you protest, holding his face again so you can focus his gaze on yours.

“It’s my life—why, why not?”

“Because I love you. And you can’t sacrifice this—this amazing life—for me!”

“I-I can’t—I don’t,” he stumbles and searches for words as tears fall from his lashes and roll down your hands, your wrists, your arms, “—can’t do it, not without you.”

“You’ve been doing it for years, Joshua, you’ll learn,” you tell him, using one hand to grip his cheek, the other to wipe away at your own.

“You don’t love me,” he chokes out. “You—you wouldn’t do this to me if you loved me.”

“Don’t say that, please.” You press your forehead against his and close your eyes because you can’t bear to look at his tear-streaked cheeks any longer. It’s quiet for a moment, and you can’t help but think that this is the calm before the storm.

“We’ll work it out,” Joshua finally whispers, pulling his head back and cradling the back of your neck with his hands. You don’t say anything, and Joshua doesn’t give you the chance anyway. “Let me have you,” he begs. “We’ll work everything out and it’ll be okay,” he says over a strangled sob, “Just—just be with me tonight.”

And so when you nod, he wipes his tears and pokes his head out of the study to make sure the corridor is empty before tugging your wrist and pulling you to his room. It’s big and grand, just as you’d expect for the prince but Joshua doesn’t want you to look at the intricate walls or the tall ceilings or the golden furniture.

Joshua makes you focus on his burning touch and lets you explore his mouth, his body. And stripped, your bodies are so hot and with wet lips against sheen skin, you feel you might melt into each other’s bones.

Teeth against teeth, nails scraping against skin so hard it digs into the muscle, bruising holds, and sloppy kisses—the feeling is so intense and it crashes onto you and Joshua so hard that you have no other choice but to grip onto each other as you would a lifeline.

And your bodies move so languidly through the sheets, like waves against a shore, or like the wind whistling through the air, until you're trembling and drifting off in each others’ arms.

It would have been perfect. Perfect, if only Joshua had woken up and you were next to him.

Joshua is lost.

After a frantic hour of running around the palace, asking if anyone had seen you, looking for Seokmin to see if he had any answers, Joshua finds himself in the middle of Sol Invictus. And he racks his brain for answers, for a smidge of anything that gives him a reasonable explanation as to why you weren’t in his arms this morning.

Joshua is lost.

He’s staring at the ground now, and all Joshua can wonder is if it was all a dream. If that moment you both looked out his glass window at the stars before you kissed him on his bed was just a figment of his imagination.

He wonders if you actually did thread your soft fingers through his messy hair and hold him close as both hit your peaks together, and he wonders if your lips really did ghost over his skin as he drifted off into sleep.

Joshua almost doesn’t feel Advisor Lee’s hand on his shoulder. He only hears his voice, really, and when he does, the sound grates against his ears.

“She’s gone.” Advisor Lee’s voice has always been harsh, and Joshua wonders how the same man could’ve produced something—someone—as lovely as Seokmin.

“What are you talking about?” Joshua is good at feigning ignorance, but his voice still quivers.

“I know. Your father and mother know too.”

Joshua is lost.

Joshua’s eyes snap up and suddenly his hands are at Advisor Lee’s collar. When the older man doesn’t seem surprised, Joshua sags. “What the fuck do you know. What—” He inhales sharply as he lets go and steps back, inching closer to Eridenus. “—what did you do to her?”

“She left herself.”

“What are—” Joshua heaves. “What?”

He’s doing it before he even realizes it. Stumbling toward Eridenus with his lungs and heart mushed together so tight he’s got a hole in his chest, Joshua steps over the stone lining and crashes into the shallow water.

Seokmin’s face pales when he walks in on the scene. Coming into the courtyard from the South end, he sees Joshua’s figure before he even recognizes it’s him.

That’s not Joshua, he thinks as he watches his father stand in front of Eridenus where the prince sits. That’s not Joshua.

Joshua’s shoulders are always sharp and his eyes are bright. Joshua’s smile is full and his hands are always ready to love.

This isn’t Joshua, and Seokmin feels it in his gut when he approaches Eridenus.

Joshua sits in the middle of the pond. His knees are bent and the cold water stops at the middle of his chest, leaving the upper third of his body dry. His royal coat and velvet pants, his polished shoes and silk button up, are submerged and rub against the algae coated rocks on the bottom of Eridenus.

Advisor Lee doesn’t speak as Seokmin stands next to him, Eridenus in front of the two with the prince in the middle. Joshua doesn’t say a thing. In fact, it seems like he doesn’t even know Seokmin is here now. His neck is tilted down and he stares at his soaked slacks blankly.

Seokmin is stunned.

This can’t be Joshua, because Joshua’s shoulders are always sharp but now they are hunched over and hardly moving, even as he breathes short breaths through his pale lips.

This can’t be Joshua, because Joshua’s eyes are always bright but now they are dull and dead. Seokmin knows Joshua’s eyes are always bright, but he failed to realize what exactly it was that was lighting them up.

Seokmin thought it was the sun but he was wrong, because even now, as Joshua sits under broad daylight, he is still and his eyes are dull.

Two weeks since you’ve seen Joshua’s face and you miss his smile.

You miss his smile, the one that crinkles up all the way to his eyes when he laughs at one of your snarky comments. The one that shines his teeth and the one that seemed to never leave your sight when you were with him.

You miss his smile, but his laugh still rings in your ear, early in the mornings when you blink awake and late in the nights when you gasp in hearty breaths and try not to cry. When you take the walk through the city to your work at Mr. Min’s bookshop, the ringing of the street vendors’ bells are bright and cheery, and sometimes you can hear Joshua’s laugh in the mix.

One month since Joshua last looked you in the eye and he wishes he didn’t know why you left. He wishes he was oblivious, because then he could be angry at you—he could have a reason to forget, to move on, to stop loving you.

Joshua knows why you left and it hurts more than anything because this is nothing like a betrayal at all. You left because you love him, and Joshua cannot dispute that—not now, not ever.

Sometimes he walks through Sol Invictus and plucks a hyacinth, letting it blow off into the wind. He hopes you’ll find the lost petals one day.

Two months since you’ve been in the castle and your life is normal. Well, as normal as it can get for you.

Your first semester of the new year started a few days ago, and you’ve since moved into an apartment near your campus. Your mother thinks it’ll be good for you, and you understand her sentiment but you don’t think she understands.

Ironic, you think. You’ve gone full circle, really. Maybe it does run in your blood, like all the whispers said.

You realize you’re okay with that. Maybe you made a mistake with Joshua, maybe you didn’t. Maybe you almost royally fucked up your reputation more than it already was (thankfully, the Royal Counsel was better at keeping it under the wraps this time), maybe no one cares. Maybe your life is a little bit more messed up now, but again—you’re okay with that.

You miss Joshua. You don’t think you’ll ever stop missing him. You’re also okay with that. You’re starting to realize that you’re okay with pretty much anything when it comes to Joshua. And once again, you’re okay with that.

Six months since he’s seen you and Joshua’s chest aches. Partly because he was distracted during fencing and took a jab straight in the middle but mostly because he misses you.

He stands on the balcony of the royal dining hall, waiting for lunch to be served as he looks over the palace and the kingdom that spread beyond. Joshua sees the tall buildings, the rows of houses, and the infamous Hong University that lay in the middle of the commontown around the hill the castle sits on, and he wonders.

You told him you’d be taking an astronomy class this semester, which should have started a month ago. Joshua is old enough and smart enough to know that collegiate astronomy is more than just the moon and the sun and the pretty little dots that button the sky, but still, he wonders.

The sun and its sunlight, rotations and revolutions.

Will you think about him?

Joshua doesn’t need to wonder—he knows.

The sun is bright today and even though it’s winter, the clouds are nowhere to be seen. It’s a bit of a rare occurrence for the cold months, but Joshua doesn’t mind. When he looks at the blue sky and briefly glances at the sun, his shadow on the stone floor, the reflection of light against the railing, Joshua breathes in the chilly air, filling his lungs deeply.

He knows.

Eight months and you still hear Joshua’s laugh.

You hear it when wind whistles in your ear as you walk to a flower shop to buy a pot. You hear it when you look up at the sun and imagine you’re in the middle of Sol Invictus. You hear it when you crouch down on your balcony, placing the little hyacinth into the pot and packing soil around the base.

You miss Joshua, you miss his smile, and more than anything, you miss his laugh. Right now, as you bathe in the memories of a man so far yet so close, you realize that you can miss him all you want, but you won’t forget. You can’t ever forget.

Ten months later and Joshua’s chest still aches, but he’s okay with that.

He sucks in heavy breaths as his lungs search for air on the fencing match, his trainer leaving the room, leaving Joshua after his request to take a break. Through the rush of blood in his ears, Joshua hardly hears the door behind him open.

“Mingyu told me you’ve been struggling with fencing recently,” his mother says, approaching him. Joshua shuffles in his fencing gear, throwing his helmet to the side.

“I’ve just hit a stump.”

“Something tells me this is more than just a stump,” she inquires as Joshua kicks off his boots.

Joshua scoffs, “What makes you say that?”

“Joshua, what’s wrong?”

He pauses, about to pull off his gloves when he looks up at the Queen. “Everyone in the Royal Counsel knows. I’m sure you know too.”

His mother sighs heavily when he stands up, and she follows him out the training room and toward the Residency Quart. There’s a silence that gaps the mother and son—not that Joshua isn’t used to it. He still smiles and grins, he hugs and he bows, and oftentimes it is genuine, but there’s a silence that always follows. A silence that he never forgets.

A silence he holds when he watches the same kitten you held cross his path when he walks through Sol Invictus, slightly bigger but just as nimble and heart warming. A silence he holds when his eyes gloss over the set of Percy Jackson books in the shelves of his room. A silence he holds when he sinks into his covers and presses his nose to the sheets, wondering if he’ll ever be able to taste your skin on his tongue again.

“I won’t ever understand what went on between you two,” his mother finally says.

“There isn’t anything for you to understand,” Joshua tells her, heading towards his room, but his mother stops him and he narrows his eyes. “What? I felt bad for her, alright? When I saw her all those years ago when it all happened out in the gardens—”

“Joshua, what are you talking about?”

“That’s what you want to know, right? Why I talked to her? Why I—I love her?” His mother gives him a stern look, but Joshua doesn’t relent. He’s starting to realize he’s been too comfortable with this silence. “I never asked you to understand it, but I’ll tell you anyway. Maybe because I pitied her or felt sorry for her or all the same stuff, and maybe I didn’t think she deserved to be ostracized for something she never did but—whatever. I’m not asking you to understand, but I am asking you to leave it alone.”

“You’re my son, Joshua.”

The Queen is Joshua’s mother and she doesn’t understand. She may never understand, and Joshua is okay with that because if he’s being honest, he doesn't think anyone will ever understand. He’s okay with that too.

You will understand, and for him, that’s enough.

You get two letters from the Royal Counsel in your lifetime. You received the first over a year ago—the one you opened with Mr. Min standing across from you in his little bookstore under dingy lights and over the dusty counter. The one you crumpled up and tossed into the dustbin without as much as a second though. The one that led you down a long, winding path which brought you to Joshua.

You receive the second now, standing in your apartment as you look down, except this time you aren’t staring at a paper, you’re staring at the screen of your laptop. You giggle quietly to yourself; Joshua must have taken the Royal Counsel up on still sending letters.

You’ve only looked at the subject of the email so far. It’s got your name and the word “request” written in bold, and you wonder what they want.

Glossing over the text, a wave of nostalgia washes over you. “The Hong Royal Counsel wishes to find you well, as we present a request.” Same shit, huh? “You will have the opportunity to lead a project as you please and earn a notable compensation in payment for your efforts.” Yeah, pretty much.

It’s the same thing, you realize. They want you back—for what, you aren’t sure, but you have a feeling that it doesn’t really matter. Because signed, at the bottom of the email isn’t the usual, “Hong Royal Counsel,” but instead is, “Hong Royal Family.”

The little sun emblem sits below the signatures of the King and Queen, and you press your eyes shut and hold the screen close to your chest, silently praying under your breath that is not a dream.

You don’t know what happened, don’t know what Joshua told them, but to be frank, you don’t care. You’re smart enough to read between the lines.

I don’t understand, they're telling you, But that doesn’t mean I can’t try.

It’s your first day at the castle. Well, your second first day.

When you park your car at the base of the hill, you smile down at the silk over your waist. You abandoned the new ribbon sent to you by the Court, instead donning the one that came to you in a little white box ten months ago. Sometimes, when you hold it close enough, you still think you can smell Joshua’s skin.

You wonder how long you’ll have to wait for him, but as you look up at the sky, you have your answer.

Something speaks to you when you return to 77. Mr. Park is still gruff and cranky but you swear you see the peek-a-boo of a smile on his lips when you walk in. Jihoon’s there too, he greets you regularly.

And of course there’s Seokmin who is hugging you so tight, it reminds you that he is a full grown man and not a child trapped in a large body. You think he almost cries when he laughs with you about how he almost killed the yarrows again (but he brought them back to life! Trust!), and then he beams and tells you that you gotta check out Sol Invictus.

It’s beautiful.

Bright hyacinths that line from east to west and your heart is happy because Seokmin told you he’d get everyone to finish planting them and he did. The purple petals let wind whistle through its stems and leaves, the rustling echoing off the walls of the castle that surround Sol Invictus.

The water of Eridenus gleams under the sun, the stone of your pathways glows brightly, and as your eyes flicker around, you notice something new. In each corner field of Sol Invictus, sits a medium sized sculpture, each of a pegasus but all slightly different in pose and manner.

And then you see him, his back facing you, standing in front of one of the statues that sits in one of the fields on the west end.

Walk the line.

Tracing the pathways—your pathway—from East to West with your shoes clacking their short heels against the tiles—you know he can hear you, but still, he doesn’t move. His hands are neatly holding each other behind his back as his neck tilts slightly upward to stare up at the pegasus.

“Aethon, Aeos, Pyrois, and Phlegon,” Joshua says when you finally stop next to him, shoulders barely brushing against each other. “This one is Pyrois.”

“Helios’ pegasi,” you murmur, glossing over the fine details and intricacies of the statue.

“I thought you might like them.”

You don’t say anything for a moment and grin, watching his eyes light up from the corner of your vision. “I love them.”

“Thank god. You were taking so long to respond, I thought you were going to yell at me for fucking up Sol Invictus.”

You laugh and shake your head, both of you shuffling as you face each other.

“Hi,” you say so lightly it comes out as a breathy laugh when you both finally look each other in the eye.

“Sunshine.” Joshua smiles, holding out his hand. The light is warm when it hits your skin, and Joshua’s dark hair glints a light brown under the beams. You take his hand and run your fingers over the calluses of his palm; his skin is warm when his fingers grasp around yours and as you look at his eyes, you feel it in your bones.

This is Joshua, this is Joshua, and every path you follow will always lead you back to him.

edit. thanks 4 making it this far! if ur interested i expand on the concept of an isohel more here and little tidbits here, and it's honestly just a ramble but i hope it makes clear why i made some decisions w the story if ur interested :3 a/n. aaah it's done! as per em's request, i will be posting a one-shot of these two and their lives in the future bc i feel like i robbed u guys of a possibly fluffier ending so keep an eye out for that ... anyways, i hope u enjoyed, comments / reblogs would mean the world to me and >_< thank u for reading!

taglist. @synthetickitsune @ixayjun @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @blinkjunhui @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @rubyreduji @todorokiskitten @98-0603 @hipsdofangirl @minnie-mouser22 @minhui896 @whippedforjihoon @nishloves @woozarts (strikethrough could not be tagged)

---

he's so.

@sakuraslibrary

i always find it so funny that choi seungcheol, mr. modesty himself, has one of the most feral fans in seventeen. i honestly don’t think i’ve seen anything below his left clavicle and yet,,,,

---

[230928] Givenchy SS24 - Paris Fashion Week

21-Ds 🐸 don't edit/crop logo.

彡 in your favour, i’m in your arms. — choi seungcheol

notes ๑ gn!reader, college setting. guest appearance, jeon wonwoo & kim mingyu. yn’s circle: soonyoung and seungkwan / seungcheol’s circle: jeonghan and joshua!! unrequited love occurs.

genre ๑ fwb/situationship to lovers, angst, fluff.

warnings ๑ physical affection (kissing (part eleven), sleeping in each other’s bed), characters getting drunk, mentions of eating. possessive characters. (lmk if i missed any!!<3)

word count ๑ 12k

from aya: reblog if you enjoyed! i’ve been working on this for 3 months. i hope you enjoy :(；ﾞﾟ'ωﾟ'):.

one, current location — cheol’s apartment.

your phone buzzed and your phone screen lit signing you got a notification. you knew who it was from cause everyone else was muted. “mm— cheol—“ you struggled in between kisses wanting to part so you could read the message. he sighed and only parted his lips yet his face was still close and his hands were on your hips, “yea?” his eyes were on you, and yours was on the text message you just received.

”give me a second, let me reply to this guy,” you moved away from him and unlocked your phone. seungcheol stood at the side and rested his arm on the counter behind you.

you read the text and smiled softly. the text was from a guy you’ve been talking to in class, jeon wonwoo. his text read, “hey, i’m free tomorrow after the class we have together, we can meet up then?”

he was responding to something you said earlier where you asked if he was interested in getting coffee or lunch with you. he said yes but he needed to check his schedule first. he then asked for your phone number so he could message you and let you know.

as you read his response you instantly felt the need to talk about it to your friends. “i gotta go,” you hopped off the stool you were sitting on and gathered your things in a rush, “can you unlock the door please?”

“huh? where are you going?” cheol furrowed his eyebrows and reached out for you arm but you moved too quick, placing your shoes on already. you always stayed until dinner but you had to cut your time with him short. “i’m gonna meet kwan and kwon!” you smiled brightly. your smile brought a warmth to him that no one else could. usually he’d convince you to stay but it seemed like it was an emergency?

“alright take care of yourself okay? tell me when you get back home,” seungcheol opened the door of his apartment and stood against the frame with his arms crossed. “always will! sorry you have to eat dinner alone,” you finished getting your shoes on and stood up.

he tilted his head in confusion and adoration for how you felt bad over something like that. giving you a kiss on the forehead he affirmed, “i think han and shua should be coming home soon but even if they weren’t, it’s okay.” you exchanged your goodbyes and you walked to the elevator simultaneously texting your friends you’d be on your way to their place.

「kwan: 👍」

+

two, current location — kwan and kwon’s.

you ringed the doorbell and didn’t get a response for a few seconds. you turned the doorknob just to try and it turned all the way meaning it was unlocked. you sighed, “soonyoung!” the two were on their couch totally immersed in the k-drama they were watching so they barely noticed you.

seungkwan turned his head and his eyes widened when he saw you. “oh my god-“ he smacked soonyoung’s head. “what!” soonyoung rubbed his head. “you forgot to lock the door? again?” you stomped in frustrated.

“we are actually going to have a burglary and murder case one day,” seungkwan points out as he’s still hitting soonyoung. recently soonyoung has been forgetting to lock the doors of their apartment and it’s becoming a problem.

after the two settled they welcomed you in and poured you a glass of your favourite drink. they bought a carton specially for you. “so what’s up, what story do you have for us today?” seungkwan sat down beside you on the couch.

“you will not guess who i got a date with!” you shifted your position to face the two.

soonyoung looked at you puzzled but based on your excitement, it had to be someone weird, “yoon jeonghan?”

you denied quickly, “no? jeonghan and i would never work out.”

“damn, so you’ve thought about it,” seungkwan rested his chin on his hand in disbelief. “i had to! we played truth or dare and jeonghan asked me if i’d date him! that apartment is like a frat house.”

they snickered at the story, “is it xu minghao?” seungkwan continued.

“oh my god do you think i can get with the xu minghao?”

“no not really.”

you ignored him and showed the text from wonwoo.

“jeon wonwoo!?” soonyoung shouted, “pro gamer jeon wonwoo!?” “the nerdy guy that sits behind you in that one class!?” seungkwan jumped in his seat.

“nerd? i'm pretty sure he benches more than you!?” you argued.

“he does?” soonyoung covered his mouth from shock. “nerdy has nothing to do with the gym,” seungkwan rolled his eyes.

“why is it such a shock? isn’t he hot?”

“hot? i guess but your type? i didn’t think so,” soonyoung squinted his eyes as if he was trying to picture you two together.

seungkwan stood up, hands on his head as if it’s a crisis situation, “how did this even happen?”

you just giggled and shrugged your shoulders, “i don’t know, i’ve talked to him a couple times and i made him laugh one time, next thing i knew, i was asking him out and he said yes.”

seungkwan snorted and teased, “you made him laugh one time? were you pointing a gun at his head that one time?” you hit him with a pillow multiple times.

“so are you letting go of seungcheol?” seungkwan looked at you intently, “wonwoo does not seem like the type who would be okay with your…habits? current routine?” referring to the way you were practically sleeping in seungcheol’s bed every night.

your eyes bounced around the house. if you were being honest, you liked seungcheol and seungcheol was undeniably smitten with you.

but that’s as far as you two go.

it became clear you guys weren’t exclusive when he had no reaction to you going out with someone else that wasn’t him. the zero signs of care in his eyes when you walked by him with the new guy made you understand that he only needed you there for the convenience and to fill the void of affection.

and so you silently told everyone that’s what you wanted as well. at the very least, it wasn’t as heartless as other friends with benefits existing out there, he cared about you and that’s what made it so hard to leave. but eventually, you grew out of it. you wanted to put a label on something.

bottom line, you wanted more.

perhaps that’s why wonwoo was so exciting to you. it’s something new. he’s someone that potentially wants what you want.

soonyoung nodded in agreement, “right? like he seems like he’s into long term, that kind of stuff.”

“guys i haven’t even went out with him yet!” you wailed. “give it awhile then maybe we can start looking further than just friends, you know?”

“of course, of course,” seungkwan raised his eyebrows quietly processing everything.

soonyoung who was sitting on the floor shifted closer to you and rested his cheek on your knee, “what’re you wearing tomorrow?” “omg i don’t know! let’s go plan,” you grabbed him and seungkwan and ran to the guest room where you left some of your clothes in case you stay the night.

+

three, current location — seungcheol, jeonghan & joshua’s apartment.

the sound of the door unlocking echoed into the apartment. “we’re home!” jeonghan and joshua lugged into the space. they were seungcheol’s roommates or more like parasites—

“welcome home, what do you guys wanna eat?” seungcheol got up from the couch. “we can just order today,” jeonghan said before walking into his room to freshen up.

“no yn?” joshua looked around. “no they had to leave to meet up with soonyoung and seungkwan, seemed urgent.”

“urgent?” joshua tilted his head. “yea why?” “the last time yn left for an ‘urgent’ reason, it was cause they started going out with that kim mingyu guy?”

seungcheol scrolled on his phone looking for food to order completely uninterested in the conversation “and?”

“and then you told mingyu to fuck off so mingyu cut ties with yn?” joshua passive-aggressively recalled.

“yeaa, that was funny he didn’t stand a chance with yn, he didn’t even try,” seungcheol scoffed.

joshua looked at seungcheol with a touch of flame in his eyes, “don’t you think you’re being unfair to yn?”

“what do you mean?”

“just asking, have you ever genuinely asked them what they wanted? if they ever wanted to have something more than a friends with benefits?”

“why do you think yn wants that?”

“oh i don’t know, maybe with the fact that despite being with you they’re still trying to see other people? yn and mingyu were a great couple until you crashed it.”

“the fact they came back to me after that, kinda makes it clear they didn’t like him all that much.”

“what are you gonna do when one day they don’t come back?” joshua crossed his arms.

seungcheol looked up from his phone, “why do you care?”

joshua rolled his eyes and started walking to the fridge, “i get it, you two aren’t in a relationship but you and i know you care about yn. i don’t want you to regret something you do or didn’t do in the future.”

seungcheol just exhaled and raised his brows, “alright.”

“so what have you ordered!” jeonghan walked out of his room excitedly. as he noticed the tension in the air he instantly knew, they were talking about you.

jeonghan sighed and went by seungcheol who was aimlessly still looking for food. then, he looked at joshua who seemed to be in heavy spirits.

things that jeonghan knew: jeonghan knew or atleast suspected that seungcheol has feelings for you. jeonghan also knew that joshua was struggling to keep something from seungcheol, something you told him.

—

one night where you stayed over and you all drank, you got drunk but so did seungcheol. you ended up sleeping in joshua’s bed so that he could monitor you. joshua was looking for a trash bag in case you had to throw up while jeonghan was preparing you for sleep. as jeonghan wiped your body with a damp cloth, you happened to utter,

“i really love cheol. i can’t believe we’re just watered down to friends with benefits.”

they both heard it. joshua just stroked your hair with his hands until you were fully asleep.

he couldn’t lie, since then he’s been frustrated cause he knew how good your heart is. as close as he is with cheol, he can’t help but think, isn’t your relationship with cheol was holding you back?

but honestly he felt that you two would end up together one way or another, any interference might mess things up. in the end, the sober two came to the mental agreement it was your situation to deal with.

—

“you are taking too long! order fried chicken and let’s do karaoke today!” jeonghan tried to lighten up the mood. “sorry, grandpa’s struggling to see his screen with his poor eyesight,” joshua targeted to seungcheol. “you didn’t even try to help!” the eldest retorted. joshua laughed at his reaction and got up to set up the living room so that they could watch shows and eat.

at the end of the day they were each other’s rock. joshua was just scared for your feelings with seungcheol’s unpredictable actions.

+

four, current location — college.

you could barely pay attention in class knowing that you were going to go out with wonwoo in a few minutes. you have gone on a ton of dates before but for some reason this one was exciting. it was going to be different from the rest.

the class soon ended and wonwoo stood by your table, “hey.”

“hi!” you greeted him back. “so i was thinking we can go to this restaurant but it’s kinda far.” “it’s okay i have a car,” he smiled wiggling his keys in his hand.

not like it was rare for college students to have a car but you just thought he was extremely cool that your jaw almost dropped from his actions. wonwoo tilted his head to the door, “come, let’s go, send me the location by the way.” you nodded and skipped to his side.

you both got to the parking lot and he opened the door of the passenger seat for you. “thanks,” you said before he closed the door. he was sweet. you didn’t even talk about this being a date but he was certainly treating it like one.

wonwoo got into the car and you went on your phone to send the location of the restaurant. wonwoo was looking to his left where you were sitting and you thought maybe he was staring at you. you did spend around two hours matching clothes you left in seungkwan and soonyoung’s place. you were so close to just going home to look at other clothes but they didn’t let you since it was late at night—

“yn?” “yea?” “do you know them?” he pointed to the window at your side.

low and behold, the devil and the angel, jeonghan and joshua in the car beside you who were practically staring you down out of shock.

you got shocked yourself but thought nothing of it as you lowered your window, “hey!” you casually greeted. “yn! where’re you going?” joshua returned to you.

“gonna go to my favourite restaurant, oh by the way this is wonwoo,” you introduced.

“ah yea, i think i have… one class with you?” jeonghan squinted to the guy behind you. “i think so?” wonwoo pursed his lips.

“well you two have fun, yn are you gonna have dinner at ours later?” joshua asked.

“uhm,” you gave a glance to wonwoo who just gave a soft smile while raising his eyebrows. “i don’t think i will, maybe next time tho!” you rejected.

“ahh gotcha,” jeonghan replied while resting his body on the wheel.

you waved at them saying your goodbyes and closed your window. soon enough wonwoo drove out of the parking.

“you often have dinners at their place?” wonwoo asked curious. “yea, sometimes.” more like you practically live there.

“sounds fun.”

“it is! it’s a really nice way to let off some steam from all of the college stress,” you laughed

what would wonwoo think if he knew what you were actually there for. would wonwoo still go out with you?

-

“did you get a photo of them?” jeonghan peeked at joshua’s phone.

“yup, goodluck to seungcheol,” joshua lightly giggled while looking his screen.

+

five, current location — kwan and kwon’s.

you crashed into the apartment, you don't even know if soonyoung locked the door, “guys i just had the best date ever!”

there was one guy sitting at the center table they had for meals who looked quite reckless and overwhelmed with all of the papers around him, “yn….it is almost midnight,” seungkwan glared.

“bad time?” you asked, backing up.

“nope, i was actually waiting for you so that i had an excuse when i don’t pass up my work tomorrow,” he said getting up and dragging his blanket to the couch.

“what are you gonna say when your teacher asks why you didn't do it?”

“soonyoung ate it.”

you just pursed your lips and nodded simultaneously and suddenly soonyoung’s door swung opened, “is that yn i hear?”

you peaked your head to the hall showing you were present and in an instant, soonyoung ran to the couch, “spill.”

“oh my gosh he's so cool like he owns a car and he drives it!” “wow,” seungkwan says unimpressed.

you looked at him up and down before continuing, “we ate at my favorite restaurant and he said he'd order whatever i recommended and he liked my recommendation!” “i thought this was the best date ever but it's really just starting off like any other date.”

"go back and do your work if you're gonna be such a hater!" you stood up. "continue!! just ignore him!" soonyoung demanded, pulling you down.

"after that, we just walked around a park nearby and we just talked and got to know each other. we're not alike but we can agree on so much!" "oh that's actually very sweet." seungkwan commented.

it was sweet.

you got out of your head and finished explaining your day, "eventually he got tired and so we went back to his car and we talked more but it was getting late so i asked him to send me here but on our way here he kept taking the wrong turn, on purpose!" you recalled. it made you laugh just thinking about it.

"where do you find these guys," soonyoung squinted his eyes. it genuinely felt like a romance from a movie no matter how you see it. "manifesting?" you joked.

"well i'm happy you're happy," seungkwan patted your head. you laid your head on his shoulder, "i am."

it was just the first hangout yet you've never felt happier.

or is that just what you wanted to believe and feel?

-

the next day you woke up in their guest room and used your phone. there you found a notification.

「12:09am wonwoo: do you wanna go out tmr?

7:29am yn: hey! sorry just woke up! but yes, let’s go!

wonwoo: it's kinda late?? are you ready for class?

yn: oops

yn: it's okay they won't miss me.

wonwoo: are you in the same building i dropped you off at yesterday?

yn: yea, why?

wonwoo: i'm picking you up. go get ready.」

+

six, current location — seungcheol, jeonghan & joshua’s apartment.

"seungcheol. hey!" the pillow made a comically 'puff!' sound effect as jeonghan hit his oversleeping roommate up. "you're gonna be late, again, get going," his roommate sighed. for the past two days seungcheol had been waking up without you in his bed. that meant, no human alarm clock. he was like a child who needed his mother to wake him up...as weird as that analogy might sound but it was true. seungcheol sat up, eyes still closed.

"by the way, joshua and i are planning to have bbq tonight, is yn coming? i wanna know how much i have to buy."

"i'll send them a text."

"alsoo, why didn't yn come over yesterday?" jeonghan leaned on the doorframe and asked before leaving. "yesterday? they messaged me saying they had a project."

if seungcheol's eyes were open, he'd be able to see jeonghan's bewildered reaction. you lied about your whereabouts, but for what? jeonghan silently kept his composure and reminded, "alright, well let me know about yn at least before 4pm," before running to joshua's room to report the news.

seungcheol lazily grabbed his phone from his bedside table and searched for your contact to message. it was a foreign feeling, he almost never texted you. ever since you two started wherever you had, you were always with him, except for when you were with mingyu of course, not like that lasted long.

「cheol: you coming over today?

cheol: were having bbq.」

+

six.5, current location — wonwoo’s car.

“i think you should invest in those fancy biometric door locks, at least those lock automatically,” wonwoo suggested after you explained all of the times soonyoung forgot to lock his apartment door out of pure stress. he was amazingly entertained by your stories.

you wheezed, “oh my gosh- that’s so smart actually, i’m gonna tell that to them!” you got your phone out to text your group chat with soonyoung and seungkwan, until you saw notifications from him.

「cheol: you coming over today?

cheol: were having bbq.

cheol: think the guys miss you, they keep asking where you are.

cheol: think i miss you too, it's been hard waking up alone.

cheol: hope you finish your project soon.」

you clicked on your chatroom with seungkwan and soonyoung. afterwards, you cleared your notifications.

"so where are we going later?" you turned to wonwoo.

"i don't know actually i didn't know i was going to pick you up in the morning, i was going to brainstorm where i should take you when i got to class."

you blurted a laugh, "brainstorming a date when you should be paying attention in class"

"oh it's a date?" he glanced at you then back to the road. you covered your mouth, you kept calling your outings with wonwoo a date when you were with seungkwan and soonyoung, it just slipped out. "i’m just playing with you," he stated.

you scoffed and leaned into your seat, "so what are your ideas for later?" "i don't know, i haven't gotten to class yet," he shrugged his shoulders. you playfully rolled your eyes, "don't think about it too much, listen to your lecturer. i don't want to be the cause of you failing your classes."

"little late for that, i literally skipped my study group to hang out with you yesterday," he admitted.

you shot back up, "wonwoo!" you said in a whiney tone. he held back a smile as you scolded him for his lack of seriousness towards his school life. it lasted the whole ride until you reached campus.

little did you know, wonwoo had been eyeing you for a while. of course, he'd skip a class or two just to hangout with you. luckily, he found being with you worth the skip.

+

part seven , current location — yn’s favourite cafe.

few days had passed and you still haven’t replied to cheol's messages. maybe you can live a life without him.

-

"order for yn!" joshua called out brightly, he got excited when he got a glimpse of your name on the cup that held the contents of your signature drink. he didn't think he'd see you today at his part-time job, you usually only came on weekends or in the late hours of the weekdays. he hadn't seen your face in a while and he honestly missed your presence in the apartment.

until he realised it was in fact not you ordering.

his expression changed in a flicker of a switch, "what the hell are you doing cheol?"

seungcheol raised a brow, "i'm ordering?"

"ordering yn's usual drink under their name? do you miss them that much that you have turned to impersonating them?" joshua pushed the cup towards his friend.

"i'm not weird like that, i’m gonna give it to them if i can find them today."

the barista created an 'o' with his mouth, he was proud of the effort. he carefully packed your drink into a bag and stuffed in the straw and some tissues. he even snuck in a free lollipop of your favourite flavour before lightly pushing the bag to cheol, "yn's class is a completely opposite to your building, sure you can make it?"

seungcheol scoffed, "of course."

joshua had his elbows on the counter, face resting on his hand. "have fun then, say hi to yn for me," he said in a teasing manner.

seungcheol nodded lazily and got on his phone after waving goodbye to his roommate.

+

seven.5 , current location — outside your class.

tapping away at your phone, you leaned on the wall outside the class you just finished. it was your last class so you were free for the day but wonwoo’s class was running longer than yours so you had to wait.

he had messaged you saying that he would be the one to go to you and you had no objections since you didn’t even know where his class was anyways. soon as you replied to wonwoo, you heard a familiar voice, a voice you recognised all too well.

“yn,” cheol quietly called out to get your attention.

you instantly stood up straight and placed your phone into your pocket, “cheol? what’s up!…what are you doing here?” your tone sounded mildly excited but astonished at the same time. you furrowed your eyebrows knowing his next class was located on the opposite side of the campus, yet he was here, you couldn't help but question it. “just dropping this off,” he subdued a smile while extending his arm to give you the drink. “hope it gives you energy during your project, how’s that going by the way?”

you held the drink in one hand and the other held tissues cheol provided. your heart sunk as he mentioned the project but you still continued the lie. “wow thanks, this is so sweet cheol! and the projects going well but we’re kinda slow,” you let out a breathy laugh.

“well don’t burn yourself out. if ever you need a break, my door is always open,” he gently reminded. “anyways, i gotta get to class. tell me if you need anything alright, we may not be under the same major but i could probably assist.”

“psh, of course, i have your number.”

he patted your head before leaving. as he walked past you, you got a whiff of his scent. it was a prominent smell, it was easy on your nose and you hate to admit but it was comforting. you felt your chest burn as he disappears from your sight. your heartbeat was rising and you knew it was because of him. time how does he manage to make you feel like this all the time.

you brought the drink closer to your chest and let out a sigh. you read the label which had the contents of your drink printed on. it was completely accurate to what you always order. only cheol could ever remember it. as you took a sip from the drink you started to wonder why you were avoiding him. should you come over tonight? you thought about it until you felt a tap on your shoulder.

you swiftly turned around and you were dragged down back to earth. wonwoo stood behind you with his head tilted with concern on his face, “penny for a thought?”

“wonwoo!” you greeted, “what do you mean?” you questioned after processing what he had said. “you seemed like you were in deep thought. you feeling okay?” he asked as he leaned on the wall beside you.

“never been better," you expressed with a sweet smile.

he nodded and sighed his worry away. his eyes trailed downwards and yours followed. you raised a brow confused but then he pointed downwards with a playful frown, “you got a drink without me?” you giggled and placed your arm around his shoulders, “i’ll go buy you one stop sulking.”

+

eight , current location — wonwoo's apartment.

wonwoo stepped into his apartment, his footsteps for some reason, felt lighter than the day before. he'd just came back from his outing with you and he couldn’t lie, those hangouts really made his days brighter. he’s smiling just thinking about it.

"you came home late today," his roommate, kim mingyu pointed out as if he were a mother waiting at home, worried sick about his son who goes out too much. in reality, wonwoo and mingyu weren't even close, they just happened to live together cause rent was expensive. but mingyu had always hoped to get closer with wonwoo and he took every chance he could to start a conversation with him.

"yea, was out with someone," wonwoo replied as he hung his bag on one of the dining table chairs.

mingyu got up from the couch and walked to the fridge fiddling with the things inside it, he was actually just closing the distance between him and wonwoo as much as he could. it seemed like today was a good day since usually, wonwoo would just head straight into his room but today he sat at the dining table. he never does that!

mingyu glanced at wonwoo and prolonged the conversation, “like a date?“

“i wouldn’t call it that, more like whatever you do after a talking stage i guess.”

mingyu shot a proud smile and crossed his arms, “no wonder you’ve been so smiley, what’s their name?”

“would you know them?” wonwoo asked but his eyes were on his phone since he was helping you find electronic door locks for your friends door.

“most probably, campus may be big but i know most people.”

“true,” wonwoo looked at mingyu as he nodded in agreement knowing how extroverted his roommate can be, “their names yn,” he answered before returning his eyes to his phone.

a sudden deafening silence washed over the room. mingyu took too long to respond.

wonwoo looked up, “what’s wrong?” he became concerned, wondering what caught the curious cat’s tongue.

there was a clear look of dislike on mingyu’s face as his smile disappeared and the look in his eyes changed.

“yn ln?” the roommate confirmed. wonwoo pursed his lips and looked up to recall, “yeah, i think that’s their last name.”

mingyu shortly laughed but wonwoo could tell it was a type of laugh not for something funny, but for something that was unbelievable, “no fucking way,” mingyu spat.

wonwoo furrowed his eyebrows, he assumed mingyu was just making fun of him, like mingyu thought he wasn’t good enough for you, “is there a problem?” he asked defensively.

“not at all, just, look for someone else, yn’s not worth your time.”

wonwoo’s heart dropped and suddenly his feet felt heavy again.

then again he knew his roommate was a semi brat. in the sense that he’s nice and all but he might hold a grudge if something doesn’t go his way. wonwoo sighed slightly uninterested in the topic, what could he possibly have to say about you?

wonwoo thought, at the very least you must’ve just rejected mingyu and it fucked with his ego big time. in any case wonwoo was always willing to listen but that doesn’t mean he’ll pick sides. “what makes you say that?”

“i get the attraction to yn, i knew them from last semester. i’m sure you’ve heard, they’re a great friend and that may be true i don’t know about that but from what i know, yn isn’t all that great in terms of romance, trust me.”

“what do you know?” wonwoo faced mingyu.

“long story short i’ve went out with yn last sem and they were fun but, yn has some ties i’m pretty sure they haven’t let go off even until today. my relationship with yn didn't last long because of said ties,”

“can you stop beating around the bush? just tell me exactly what happened between you and yn,” wonwoo firmly spoke.

mingyu gave a glare to wonwoo as he rested his jaw on his hand, recalling the story, “there’s this guy yn's super close with, you should know him, his names choi seungcheol, he's from a different department but he's popular. he and yn has been in a whole will they won’t they period, you sure you wanna go out with someone like that?"

"that was last sem, a lot could change in a few months.”

mingyu scorned, bobbing his head forward, "i literally saw yn walk to his class a few days ago, i don’t think anything has changed, regardless, why would you go out with someone with a past like that?"

"because people can change. plus, i’m not a child, what happens between yn and i is for me to deal with,” wonwoo spoke without even batting an eye to the taller man.

“suit yourself,” mingyu shook his head and walked away. he thought today was the day he could finally get closer with his roommate and ease the awkwardness but today, the distance has never been bigger.

wonwoo picked up some food and a bottle of water before descending into his room hoping that would be enough so that he wouldn't have to cross paths with mingyu for awhile. he felt a bit frustrated. he knew in his heart that you were good but then again, why would mingyu lie to him?

+

nine , current location — wonwoo’s car.

it was the next day, wonwoo had offered to pick you up again.

wonwoo tapped to the beat of the song on the radio onto the wheel of his car while waiting for you. until, from the corner of his eye, he saw you ecstatically running down the steps of your building.

he launched forward slightly to reach your car door, opening it from he inside, "hi yn."

"wonwoo!" you greeted energetically. he enjoyed hearing it but, at the same time, there was a tinge of bitterness as it rolled into his ears when he heard your voice today.

you sat down with a grin and you went on talking about your morning, the usual.

you usually did the talking as wonwoo listened.

and wonwoo was known for being quiet, but this level of quietness was unusual, even for him.

"wonwoo?" you called out. it was as if he was mentally elsewhere.

he was. he was stuck with his thoughts since last night. in his head, there were lingering questions about your past relationships. do you know a seungcheol? did you even know who mingyu was?

"sorry, didn't get enough sleep last night," he laughed it off.

shit, whatever mingyu told him that night stuck to him.

+

ten , current location — college cafeteria.

“gosh- yn i’ll change the date for you!” chan, your peer or more like your little brother held onto your forearms. he was sitting across you and he was practically off his seat convincing you to do something for him.

“you’ll what?” you snickered at his words.

“when are you free? i’ll move the party to that date.”

your hand that held your food fell to the table out of disbelief, “now why would you stoop that low chan?”

“i wanna meet new people and you have the best connections out of everyone in campus.”

“so you're using me?”

“you're fun as well," he innocently fluttered his eyes.

"then you'll have no problems with only me attending then?" you smiled like the joker.

he scoffed and rolled his eyes, "at least bring seungcheol and his friends while you're at it, if they go then surely, tons of people will come."

your eyes widened at his words but you could only bare to sigh, "you've become greedy chan."

"does that mean you'll bring him?"

you laughed, sighing softly until you remembered a tiny problem.

you had 5 unread messages from cheol.

but perhaps, someone other than cheol could come.

+

ten.5 , current location — college.

you and wonwoo sat on the grass. it had became a staple spot you both met at since it was conveniently close to your classes. you were sitting across each other sharing some convenience store food. you decided to bring the question up.

“hey do you know lee chan?”

“yea, why?” wonwoo was still picking on the grass but he made eye contact with you. “he has this party on friday night, are you interested in going?”

wonwoo stayed silent so the fear of rejection creeped up on you.

“you don’t have to go, i’m just offering an invite.”

“think im busy that day, sorry,” he said as he pursed his lips in guilt.

you gave a reassuring smile and brushed his hair with your fingers, “it’s alright.”

“im really sorry yn.”

you let a mischievous grin slip and played with him a bit. you placed your face into your hands, covering it hinting that you were upset.

“ahh yn don’t be like that.”

you spoke in a whiny tone to add to the act, “but this should’ve been our first party together—“

but suddenly his arms wrapped around your waist and he placed his head on yours.

he didn’t know what else to do but this.

“we’ll get to the next one, okay?” he does want to go it just happened that he can’t this time.

honestly you did want to feel disappointed that wonwoo couldn’t come. but you didn’t.

even with his words and actions that were meant to tell you ‘you have my full interest’. you didn’t feel anything from it.

you didn’t feel shit for him.

-

you’ve wounded up here again because there was no way you were going to attend a party alone.

cause how could you say no to chan.

this was for chan.

you’re only messaging him for chan.

「yn: do you want to go to a party?

cheol: depends, who’s is it?

yn: my little brother

cheol: …? did your parents conceive another child

yn: he’s not my biological brother

cheol: adopted?

yn: it’s lee chan

cheol: 💀

cheol: when is it?」

+

eleven , current location — lee chan’s party.

cheol’s arm snaked around your waist, “ready to go in?” he asked. “yea,” you confidently answered. this was like the thousandth party you’ve attended, why did he have to ask.

he opened the door and the once muffled cheers were heard perfectly. you flinched slightly at the noise to which he chuckled at.

you playfully rolled your eyes at him and walked in.

it reeked of alcohol already. it wasn’t as crowded as other parties you’ve attended but it was certainly something that could be considered a party.

cheol kept you close, having your back sandwiched to his chest as he held you by your shoulders. slowly, you passed through all the people and found your way to the drinks.

cheol instantly poured you your favourite drink and placed it in your hands as he swiftly poured himself one as well. you tapped your cup against his and downed it all in one go. no matter if you could actually handle it or if it was just for show, it still entertained seungcheol every time.

“yn! you’re here!” chan ran to you excitedly. “of course, why wouldn’t i?” you giggled.

“thank you for coming seungcheol!” he suddenly bowed to which seungcheol quickly pushed up the younger boy to stand up straight. “you’re nice, good thing you didn’t take after this mean senior,” cheol teased as he patted your head.

“hey you have never bowed to me ever, what’s so special about cheol?” you brought up to chan.

“he’s him, you’re you,” he coldly said. you turned to cheol who was covering his cheeky grin with his cup.

from afar it looked like you were scolding your husband and son.

“well enjoy the party, let me know if you guys want other drinks i’ll get it for you!” chan said as he skipped away with a smile.

“well obviously you’re not biologically related to someone like him,” cheol leaned on the kitchen counter as he turned to you with a smug look on his face.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you questioned as you took a sip from your cup.

“he’s sweet.”

“what does that make me?”

“mm..” he hummed.

slowly, he leaned in towards you, closing he distance between you two as he casually placed his hand on your hip. pulling you closer, he held your chin and tilted your head upwards.

there on your neck, he placed a soft kiss.

“ahh, you’re sweeter than him.”

you felt a burn in your heart.

you squeezed the drink in your hand, thinking of how to respond. but you couldn’t even think.

next thing you knew, your body reacted in its own.

you grabbed his hand that held your face and leaned in, kissing him on the lips.

it must’ve been weeks since you’ve done this.

he parted away from you, furrowing his brows. as far as he remembered, he was always the one who initiated kisses.

not like it was a rule but this was new. perhaps you missed him?

you couldn’t lie, you did.

he held you by your chin, taking a good look at your helpless expression but as he saw a pout form on your lips, how could he not give you what you wanted?

he pulled you closer, continuing the kiss.

gosh, he still had you wrapped around your finger.

it was sensual and passionate. you placed your arms around his neck pulling him closer as if he was going away but his hands softly caressed and slid against your back reassuring you he was here to stay.

you parted away, letting out a breathe. “i’ve missed you,” you blurted as you rested your head into the crook of his neck.

he smirked at your words as he patted your head, “you did?”

you couldn’t face him with how desperate you were being but nodded to answer his question.

“can’t be helped, you had that project right,” he took another sip from his cup.

you clenched your jaw and scrunched cheol’s jacket in your fist. that lie was lingered with guilt in your heart.

“yn? you barely finished your cup, don’t tell me you’re already tipsy,” he giggled as he glided his fingertips on your back.

suddenly, you stood up straight, placing your cup in his hands and walked off, “i’m going to the washroom.”

seungcheol didn’t think much of it, he just nodded and bopped his head to the music and waited for your return.

-

like any other party, there was a line but luckily, it wasn’t long. you decided to go on your phone to pass time while waiting but it wasn’t necessary since someone tapped on your shoulder.

you swung your head to look at who it was, it was someone you weren’t expecting.

it was a girl named mira, behind mira was a few other girls, probably her clique. you knew her due to being in the same class but you didn’t know much about her or the group in general, but it was evident they wanted something.

you leaned back into the wall confused on why she didn’t start talking despite you giving her attention. “can i help you?” you tilted your head.

she seemed hesitant as she fiddled with the ends of her clothes but eventually, she spoke when her friend nudged her, “uhm, you’re close with choi seungcheol right?”

‘duh, did you not see us earlier?’ is what you would’ve said but you had some decency.

“i am, why?” you crossed your arms.

“you two aren’t dating or anything, right,” a friend behind her smirked as she walked forward, asserting some dominance.

“what’s it to you?” you looked back at your phone after realising what they were here for. this was actually the first time people were running to you asking for favours for seungcheol. you’ve always experienced people asking for help with jeonghan, joshua and others but never seungcheol.

and you had underlying feelings for cheol. not like anyone knew about it but that wasn’t he point. it’s the fact that these girls clearly knew there must’ve been something between you and cheol, yet they’re still ambushing you hoping for a tip. that shit irked you.

“mira here wants his number. since you two aren’t dating, it’s okay to give it right?” the friend answered.

you looked at her up and down before going back on your phone. cheol would hate a girl that was too shy to ask personally.

you were thinking of just ignoring them but by then, the washroom was finally free so just before you walked in you replied with a firm, “no.”

you could hear them clicking their tongue as they walked away and heard the rage and it made you giggle a bit.

but god, your possessiveness over cheol only made it ever so clear that you weren’t over him.

-

when you walked out the toilet they were already gone and you made your way back to seungcheol.

“you ‘kay?” cheol brushed your hair as you fit yourself between his legs and rested your head on his chest. “yeah.”

he gave back your cup and used her free hand to hold yours. you looked down at your interwined hands and couldn’t hold back a smile.

then you wondered, if cheol was asked for his phone number directly, would he have given it?

you and cheol were pretty open to each other so you had no trouble bringing it up.

“cheol, this girl wants your number, should i give it?” you titled your head upwards to look at him.

he squinted his eyes at your words but he slowly responded, “i mean you can?”

ah. he’d accept it.

or so you thought.

just as your heart sunk, he continued, “i’m probably not going to reply to them but you can,” he chuckled.

you quickly turned and faced him, “huh? why not?”

“cause, i have you?” he raised a brow.

suddenly it’s as if the music had stopped.

did cheol actually think of you two as exclusive for once?

you couldn’t take your eyes off him but he didn’t think much of the way you were blatantly staring at him cause you did it often.

“wanna go dance?” he twirled your hair with his finger.

you snapped out of your daze, “uh- ha? since when do we dance at parties?” you laughed. you both usually only went to parties for the drinks, the vibes and nothing more but cheol felt like partying tonight.

“don’t know, just feel like it,” he gave a gummy smile.

“let’s go then,” you pulled him with a grin as he followed behind you.

you actually got it wrong earlier when you thought that he would hate a girl that was too shy because the correct version of that statement was that cheol would hate it if anyone but you tries to get with him.

you two got to the dance floor, residing somewhere at the side and instantly got into it but you fell into embarrassment as you moved to the beat of the music. cheol on the other hand seemed to have a plethora of dance skills up his sleeve. in this moment, his cold aura was gone. as he saw you covering your face, he pulled you out of your shell and held your hands. he guided you and placed your arms around his shoulders and you two swayed to the trap music as if it were classical jazz. the situation was slightly comedic, you both got a good laugh out of it.

it was these moments you shared with cheol that made you fall in love with him. and cheol would share this side of him with you and you only. if it were anyone else he probably wouldn’t feel comfortable enough to do so.

you both were practically gasping for air after laughing. you looked at him in awe as he did too. naturally, he leaned in for a kiss.

and his kisses felt like home. this was where you were meant to be.

the moment was perfect.

click, the sound of a camera shutter echoed but it was faint. it was way too faint for you to notice.

-

「mingyu: look at who i saw today at a party.

wonwoo: ?

mingyu: sent an image attachment」

+

twelve , current location — who’s apartment???

you went home with cheol that night. not like you had a choice since you were out of it.

“oh we’re here! kwaan, soonyoungie?” you slurred as the front door opened.

like meerkats, their heads turned simultaneously to the source of the sound.

“yn?” jeonghan jumped off the couch and ran to the front door excitedly. he prominently blurted out an ugly laugh that echoed through the buildings hallway as he got a good look at your face, “shit, they’re so fucking shit faced, what happened?”

“happened to get a reality check mid dancing. after that they proceeded to drink every cup they saw,” seungcheol laughed.

“are they good?” joshua slowly walked towards the three of you as he helped seungcheol bring you in. you were hanging on seungcheol by a thread. seungcheol had to continuously fling your arm around his shoulders so that he could somewhat carry you. even in the car he had to monitor and hold you up by placing his arms across your chest as an extra seatbelt to hold you upright cause if you were to hit your head on the dashboard, you’d be gone.

“i’m gonna freshen them up, can you guys get me a damp towel?” seungcheol looked to his roommates and surely, they followed the request as it was for you.

seungcheol rested you on his bed and wiped your face wth the damp towel jeonghan prepared. he even changed your shirt cause it reeked of alcohol.

soon enough he was laying beside you, joshua and jeonghan spectated at the side of the bed.

“so, yn’s back huh?” joshua crossed his arms.

“yeah,” seungcheol bluntly said as he ran his finger through your hair.

jeonghan had a smirk on his face, “you seem touchier with yn, what happened?”

he eyed the two of them, slightly annoyed but he knew they’d never shut up about it unless he gave a proper answer. “i guess you could say i don’t want to take them for granted anymore.”

“shit, really?“ joshua smiled widely.

“what’s when the reaction?” cheol stopped stroking your hair as he saw the roommates devilish expression.

“nothing it’s just, isn’t this you basically saying you admit you like yn?”

seungcheol’s eyes drifted back to you and he looked at you sincerely.

“yea, i like yn.”

joshua took a breathe and nodded. “glad you could admit it,” he clapped his hands quietly.

“well i’ll leave you two to it,” he said as he patted his friends back and exited the room with jeonghan following him.

there it was.

choi seungcheol likes you.

actually if he was a bit more honest, he would’ve admitted he loves okay but perhaps it was a bit too early for that.

but he was sure of it. after all, those few weeks you were gone must’ve been the most tough to get through without you there to brighten his day.

after that day you didn’t stay for dinner, seungcheol couldn’t lie or hide the fact he was upset by it but hey, what’s it to him? you’re not his, and why should his mood matter if you were there or not.

the second day you were gone, you didn’t even pass by his class like you usually would. he couldn’t help but wonder where were you the whole day. he’d been spending the day refreshing his feed like a fool waiting for an update of you on social media but he was mildly proud that you must’ve been so focused on your project that you didn’t go online. he loved an academically focused person.

but maybe it was for the better. seungcheol never wanted to fall for you. and seungcheol always thought that with the distance between you and him, these meek feelings would fade. but he couldn’t be more wrong.

because few days had passed and he literally found himself at your favourite cafe. was he finding excuses to see you? no, he was there cause he thought you needed a treat especially since you were working so hard on this project. but by this point he couldn’t deny his feelings. choi seungcheol liked you. seeing your face again after not-so-many-days. he felt like he was at home. the way his heart fluttered at the way you cutely turned your head when you heard his voice. your smile that shined. he wanted to call you his.

and ultimately, seungcheol could not deny his feelings any longer. especially not when he jumped out of his bed after receiving a text from you. he was so incredibly lucky that day. he was so lucky you texted him and he was so lucky jeonghan and joshua wasn’t home to hear his cheer of joy.

he was even luckier today since the person he loved most was finally back in his bed.

“kwannie, i need water,” you rolled over, facing seungcheol. he held back his laugh, you really thought you were at seungkwan’s place?

“here,” he placed the cup to your lips as you drank momentarily.

you stopped drinking and seungcheol placed the cup at the bedside table. his hands traced the outline of your body.

all that filled in his head was that if he was to make things official with you, there was no way he was going to fuck it up. he believed that you belong with him.

-

you woke up, head pounding. you swear you might die from the pain.

you mustered up the strength to sit up straight. you took a breathe in and that’s what woke you up. the scent of your surroundings that was one of a kind, you instantly became aware of the situation.

gosh you ended up sleeping in his bed again?

but you weren’t too bothered. there was a slight feeling of comfort that this is where you woke up.

you freshened yourself up in the washroom then walked outside the room.

you stood close to the door and you could hear someone in the kitchen but other than that there was no person in sight.

“looking for seungcheol?” joshua’s head peeped out from the kitchen giving you a startle.

“shit joshua— uhm yea, where is he?”

“not sure, he left a bit in a hurry but i’m sure he’ll be back.”

you hummed and lightly smiled, walking to the kitchen to get a glass of water. you leaned by the stove joshua was cooking at and he glanced at you. “want me to cook you something?”

“i think i’ll just have a bowl of cereal.”

he was amused, you always had cereal at their place for some reason even if it was night time. “go for it,” joshua grabbed the box of your favourite cereal from the cupboard above him. they always made a mental note to buy it when doing groceries despite you being the only one who ate it.

as you poured yourself a bowl, joshua started a conversation.

“so, not like i don’t like that you’re here, i'm actually glad but, i thought you were getting closer with wonwoo?”

shit.

you forgot all about him.

“oh well i was more or less hanging out with him in the friendly sense yknow.”

joshua tilted his head, listening intently, “i see.”

you also completely forgot joshua and jeonghan had full knowledge about you going out with someone that wasn’t cheol yet they’re treating you as if nothing happened. you couldn’t help but wonder why.

“hey, did you think it was weird i went out with wonwoo?” you couldn’t hold back your curiosity.

joshua’s eyes were focused on the dish he was preparing but he still answered wholeheartedly, “not at all, i mean you said it yourself you went out with wonwoo in the friendly sense, right?”

you went silent and joshua didn’t miss a beat to tease you, “or is that not the case?” he asked with wide eyes.

you were appalled and could only let out a nervous laugh. eventually joshua felt bad and told you his honest opinion.

“regardless if you were or not, you and seungcheol were never exclusive, so why would it be weird?” he asked as he faced you. you sullenly nodded your head as you followed him to the dining table with your meals so that you could sit.

“shua?”

“yea?”

“does cheol know i went out with wonwoo?”

he was just about to take a bite of his meal but he couldn’t help but laugh at your question. “are you afraid he does?”

you nodded a yes as you took a bite of your cereal.

“yn, do you like seungcheol?”

you were once again taken aback. no one has ever asked you if you liked cheol. it was always are you dating him or something of the sort but never an explicit, do you like him.

well it’s not like you were fighting wars to hide it but you just never wanted to answer it. but what was the point of lying now.

“yea.”

joshua let out a breath and smiled. “glad you could admit it.”

“you could tell?”

“i mean. i understand the concept of friends with benefits but you and seungcheol seem beyond it.”

you tapped your spoon on the milk, taking in joshua’s words.

“so you’re afraid seungcheol’s knows you went out with wonwoo because you think seungcheol would drop you afterwards?” he tried to puzzle the pieces together.

you expressed a yes and he sighed. “well i can’t blame you, you must’ve been tired of waiting for seungcheol, right?”

you finally raised your head up. that’s exactly how you felt.

he giggled at your expression, he could tell you’ve been bottling this in.

“well yn, what’s your plan for now?”

“i don’t know. but i think firstly, i need to talk to wonwoo.”

joshua rested his chin in between his fingers, he wasn’t expecting that but he could see where you were going with it.

“well i support you, if you need help i’m here.”

you acknowledged his words with a smile and coincidentally, the front door opened.

you heard a plastic bag rustling and sounds of shoes tapping on the floor, there cheol stood, surprised to see you awake.

“hey, eating breakfast without me?” he pouted.

“where were you?” you crossed your arms.

he scowled and swung the plastic bag in front of your face before taking a seat beside you, “i was buying you some stuff that might help with your hangover.”

ah, that’s right, he always bought you stuff like this.

your eyes lingered in his in awe. he was too busy reading the contents of the things he bought to notice.

“your head alright?”

“a bit.”

“okay well you can take this after you’ve eaten then,” he pointed towards one of the pills as he patted your head.

you and seungcheol were never exclusive. but you wished you were.

and maybe you could.

cause his touch felt like home. being here by his side felt like home.

suddenly the regret of your decisions seeped in. what the fuck have you done.

+

thirteen , current location — wonwoo’s room.

wonwoo was just having a peaceful friday night. he always spent his friday nights like these, it was a way to recharge before another week of school falls upon him.

but for some reason, he couldn’t help but wonder should he be at the party with you. wonwoo was no stranger to your general character.

he knew you were pretty popular, he never knew for what reasons but you were still always humble about it. he knew that many people found you good looking cause he was one of those people. he couldn’t tell what type of person you’d be but as he hung out with you, he realised there was so much more to you than looks.

cause you had humour, you had drive and you had passion. sure it’s not rare to find people like that but to wonwoo, someone who likes to keep to himself, found himself wanting to be with you. that meant something to him.

cause wonwoo has tried to date but no one has appealed to him as much as you have.

and so wonwoo also knew that you liked partying hence why, if he was to prolong his relationship with you, shouldn’t he be making efforts to be with you?

until that text popped up.

「mingyu: sent an attachment」

a clearly zoomed in photo of you in seungcheol’s arms, kissing.

parts of him was disgusted at his roommate for taking photos of you without permission.

plus, the reasoning of why mingyu sent it was annoying. it was like a big slap of ‘i told you’ onto wonwoo.

but honestly there wasn’t any pain felt as the image projected into his brain.

because wonwoo wasn’t that dumb.

he may have been in denial about that seungcheol guy existing but he was not dumb.

wonwoo has noticed the way you stare at your phone as if you’re waiting for someone to text you. he’s noticed the way you get so frazzled when you’re at campus hanging out with wonwoo, it was like you were expecting someone to show up.

he’s also noticed the widgets of you and another guy on your phone that you never got rid of. he just assumed it must’ve been a guy best friend but as it turns out, those photo widgets were selfies of you and seungcheol.

wonwoo knew you would never be his. he knew it since the day you asked to get coffee or lunch with him because though you were with him, through the lack of eye contact, lack of reciprocation of advances, wonwoo didn't need a hint to know your heart was or must've been with someone else. it only solidified when mingyu brought up your past. after that, there was no denying, he had no chance with you.

but even with how things ended up, he’s embarrassed to say that he would say yes if you asked to get coffee or lunch again.

because you were a good first date.

but the thing about dates is that they always come to an end, right.

he realised that as he woke up the next morning and all that filled his mind was that he needed to talk about it with you.

because if he didn't end things now, he might just continue being with you despite knowing there was someone else in the picture.

but he was better than that, so he texted you.

「wonwoo: hey, i need to talk to you, in person.

yn: oh, is everything alright?

wonwoo: yea

yn: okay, where are we meeting?」

well. he enjoyed it while it lasted.

fourteen , current location — some cafe.

you both agreed on meeting at a cafe nearby campus so that it wouldn’t be too confusing.

you got there first, sitting comfortably while texting wonwoo where you were for some direction.

though you sat comfortably, there was an unsettling feeling lingering. cause you couldn’t guess what wonwoo possibly wanted to talk about.

but he showed up and in your eyes, he seemed normal.

he ordered a drink and soon sat in front of you.

“hi wonwoo," you plastered on a smile.

"hi yn," he returned the smile.

"so what did you want to talk about?"

he swirled his drink with a spoon, he seemed hesitant to start but he just wanted to get it over with, any longer and he might just chicken out and act like nothing happened.

"well i’ll be straightforward with you so be honest with me, are you seeing someone right now?" he asked not threateningly but more in a, 'let me understand you' way.

you were taken aback. out of all of the things wonwoo could've spoken about, wonwoo questioning your relationship status was something you didn't expect.

what possibly made him ask this.

"why are you asking?"

“well i have this roommate, he seems to know a bit too much about you. when he found out you and i were hanging out, he didn’t really like it. he wounded up sending me a photo of you and another guy at the party last night.”

fuck, the situation was really bad. it was out of your control.

especially with the way yesterday’s events rolled into your head, you and seungcheol were so close. you could only imagine what the photo portrayed.

your head instantly shot down and you could only apologise.

you did notice the ways wonwoo hinted he liked you. you couldn't imagine how wonwoo was feeling in this moment.

“i’m sorry wonwoo.”

“i don’t really know why you’re saying sorry,” he softly chuckled as he leaned back into his chair. “it’s not like you and i are dating.”

he was right, yet, you felt so much guilt.

“i’m only asking because i didn’t know you were seeing someone,” he continued.

“well i’m not actually exclusive with him,” you muttered.

his eyes showed his shock, that kinda sucked to hear, “so are you like this with everyone?”

“no! no, it’s just, i wasn’t seeing him during the time you and i were hanging out, i promise—“

wonwoo cut you off, he didn’t want you to be stressed over this, especially not when you and him weren’t exclusive either, “yn, it’s okay, whether you were seeing him or not, i don’t have a say in that. besides, your outings with me were only platonic right?”

as much as neither of you found the outings platonic, it was technically the bitter truth.

“i know but, i liked hanging out with you,” you said with some sort of desperation in your voice.

“me too.”

“i liked you wonwoo.”

“but you love him, right?”

your eyes were glued to the table, you swear you could hear your heartbeat in your ears.

“it’s okay, we tried,” wonwoo patted your head.

you were always the one who took the lead in conversations so he’s never seen you so silent. and your silence was worrying to him.

with sincere eyes, wonwoo got to your eye level and smiled, “i don’t resent you yn.”

he was so gentle with you, he made you believe you did nothing wrong.

“really?” you lifted up your head.

he had a smile plastered on the whole time which was comforting at the very least but at the same time, it stung you, cause how could he be so calm about this indirect rejection. on top of it all, you acted without thinking about how this affects wonwoo.

but he answered with such kindness, it killed you.

“yea? i still think you’re really cool, sure it’s a shame we didn’t work out but i can’t be mad at you for finding someone else. well if anything, i’m happy for you, i think you’re lucky.”

“lucky?”

“like, to find someone is lucky, not everyone gets to experience love like that at this age. i mean, i don’t know if your relationship with him is like that. but i just hope that when you find someone that gives you their all in the future, you don’t take it for granted because you deserve the best.”

"i hear you wonwoo, thank you."

wonwoo always knew what to say. it’s truly unfortunate you weren’t in love with him but, the least you could do right now was oblige to his hopes.

fifteen , current location — on the sidewalk.

‘you’re lucky.’

if anything you were lucky to have met wonwoo because without him, you wouldn’t have realised that all that you were looking for was right in front of you.

you’ve been holding back for so long and you’ve lost and hurt people because of it, you were done with that.

most of all, you were tired of acting like you weren’t in love with cheol.

the sun was disappearing and the streetlights were starting to light up but you couldn’t go to sleep until you saw him. your favourite cafe was somewhere cheol could reach quickly. you hurriedly walked on the sidewalk as you made you way to the cafe while simultaneously finding cheol’s contact to call him. as it was you calling, he picked up within one beep.

“yes yn? whats up—“ “meet me at my favourite cafe right now,” you cut him off.

you’d probably never find out but his heart dropped at an alarming speed as he heard you words. nevertheless, he responded in a heartbeat, “i’m coming.”

-

surely, he arrived in just a few minutes.

he easily spotted you awkwardly standing outside the cafe. he jogged towards you, hands in his pockets. his dimples deepened as he greeted you with a smile, “were you bored of something?” he laughed. it was common for you to drag seungcheol out at night so it wasn’t like he was weirded out by this spontaneous call.

“i just dumped a guy,” you blurted. i mean, more like he dumped you but that wasn’t important.

seungcheol’s eyes widened and instantly his smile faded, “what?“

“i dumped a guy because i don’t think i could be with someone that wasn’t you,” your head was tilted down as you dug cresents into your arm. you don’t think you could continue to see cheol without telling him this.

he took a step towards you as he took your hands into his, "what?"

"why have you never asked me out?" you looked at him woefully as you squeezed his hands.

seungcheol didn't know how to react. it was as if his dreams were coming true with your indirect confession but you were clearly hurt and he hated that he made you feel this way.

he knew he strayed from his feelings from you but that was only because he always thought that you were made for someone else.

but perhaps that someone was him.

"i kept going out with people but every fucking time, i only end up thinking about you," you spoke as if you were frustrated, and you were.

it was almost as if the way you felt was irreparable. but he caressed your face with his hand and he looked into your eyes sincerely.

“i’m sorry if i ever made you feel like you were unwanted, that was truly never my intentions yn, believe me,” his face was full of visible concern, fear even. but he continued, filling the silence of the tranquil night, “yn, i’m sorry for making you wait. if it’s not too late i’m willing to make something out of us as long you are aswell.

you blinked your eyes unsure if this was reality but the grip his hand hand on yours was like a pinch telling you this was all real.

“you’re willing to try?”

“always, you’re all i’ve never wanted.”

“like, exclusively?”

“as we always should’ve been,” he breathed out a smile.

there was a sting in your eyes, it felt like tears were forming in your eyes but it wasn’t enough to form a tear drop. but that’s how happy you were.

it’s what you’ve wanted to hear this whole time.

“so yn, will you be my significant other?”

your face that was so close to his was still in his hand, his other hand held your hand. there was no space between you yet you were comfortable. how could this not be the person you’re meant to be with.

you finally let out a smile and answered, “yes cheol, i’m yours.”

naturally with your face so close to his, he pulled you in for a kiss. but unlike the other kisses, this one was soft and sweet. it was new and it felt like a new beginning.

‘fuck, it was that easy,’ is what you both thought as you two parted.

you two pursed your lips as you looked at the ground, embarrassed at the situation as if you were in elementary school doing something scandalous but cheol knew how to move on. “let’s go in and get a drink?” he tilted his head towards the cafe.

“at this time? what are you gonna get from a cafe?” you furrowed your brows.

“i don’t know? a victory doughnut?” he sarcastically spat.

you could only let out a laugh. he stuck his hand out for you to hold and you held it with no hesitance as he guided you two into the cafe.

“ok now tell me more about that guy you dumped.”

“is that really something you want to talk about right now? also he dumped me.”

“really? i should thank him or something, what’s his name?”

you won the guy wanted most at the cost of wonwoo, you’re the one who should thank him.

“jeon wonwoo,” you answered.

“pro gamer jeon wonwoo?! how did you not leave me for him?” cheol’s eyes widened.

“hey, what the fuck?”

by his side, talking about how to move forward, it may have been complicated but it was worth going through as long as it meant you two would be together.

in your favour, that night, you went back to his place and into his bed.

and in cheol’s favour, you’re in his arms.

---

𝘝𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝐹𝑖𝑐 𝑅𝑒𝑐𝑠

♡ Fluff || ୨୧ Angst || ★ Smut || ꗃ SMAU || ⌗ Series || ✿ Drabble || ♤ Mature (No smut) || ✹ Humor

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Buy A Boyfriend ♡★⌗ -> @sluttywoozi Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4

Summary: Being a professional boyfriend on SVTHub is great - all Vernon has to do is respond to a few texts, send out a couple selfies, do a stream every now and then, and he makes enough to cover tuition. Things get a little tricky when he finds himself wishing he actually was your boyfriend.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ By hook or by cross ♡୨୧★ -> @kabira

summary — so you punched a guy, and now he wants you to teach him how to fight, because clearly, you know how to do it better. well, fine, you say. as long as he keeps his distance. (spoiler alert: he doesn’t.)

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ divorce child ♡★ -> @lovelyhan

summary: you like to think that your most recent breakup with vernon ended on relatively good terms. there’s only one issue left to sort out: who’s getting custody of the cat you got together?

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Cold hands, Warm hearts ♡ -> @duhnova

synopsis: this holiday season, your daughter decided the best present she could give to you was a new boyfriend, which is why she and her best friend yujin have taken it upon themselves to play matchmaker. their candidate? yujin’s father.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Operation : Hot girl summer ♡✹★ -> @shuaflix

SUMMARY ▸ the summer you started putting more effort into your appearance also happens to be the summer where vernon chwe's piercing gaze leaves you feeling like you're floating high up in the clouds.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Not a virgin ♡✹★ -> @ncteez

Vernon, a friend of your friend spills his spicy sex life and accidentally reveals to an entire group of near-strangers (including you) that he’s had sex one and a half times and that it was sick.

or the one where despite vernon not being a virgin, he is somehow more of a virgin than an actual virgin. 

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ High and fucked ★ -> @rubyreduji

summary: hansol is nothing to you but your ex-boyfriend's roommate, but you still find yourself alone with him while you get high together

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Risk it all ★ -> @sluttywoozi

Summary: Vernon's got a crush on his tutor, and everything gets harder when you start wearing thigh high socks. Everything.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ The soulmate service ♡✹୨୧ -> @dkfile

the soulmate service has one purpose: to help those who drew the short end of the stick and ended up without a person to live their forever with. after the heart wrenching realization that the boy you’ve loved since you were thirteen isn’t the one meant for you, you put your love life in the hands of vernon chwe — which, now that you think about it, is probably a very bad idea.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Work husband ♡✹ -> @wondernus

synopsis: falling for the young and flirty high school history teacher is inevitable especially when he pays for your groceries and calls himself your work husband

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Trillium ♡★ -> @beahae

Summary: Vernon is flying in to see his girlfriend. Oh shit, that’s… you. Being away from him for the past few months ago makes it hard for it to feel real, especially after two years of what you both convinced yourselves was a purely platonic friendship. Now that he’s here in the flesh, you are determined to make it feel real. And very non-platonic.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Say you love me (i love you) ♡✹ -> @viastro

synopsis: three heavy words. you’re so used to saying this to the one person that’s always been by your side, because you know that he’s your other half; platonically. these words have always held some sort of meaning whenever you say it to vernon, in hopes that maybe one day he’ll say it back to you.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Distraction ♡✹★ -> @minghaoyoudoin

summary: typically, when a person’s house smells like fire, you call the fire department. when your house smells like fire, you know it’s because Vernon is cooking.

[ More Vernon fic recs will be updated ]

Want more Seventeen fic recs? -> Click here

A recent cartoon for New Scientist

India successfully lands on the moon

Chandrayaan-3 makes India the fourth nation to successfully land a spacecraft on the moon, joining the Soviet Union, the United States and China.

evil infodumping where you just tell lies