omygod i love this 🥺
8:12 PM | 𝔓𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔇𝔬𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔤
The King throws a party for the purpose of inviting the neighboring royal kingdoms for the prince to finally find a girl that suits his taste.
He’s at the legal age. Beautiful. Talented. Intelligent. But he seems to keep everyone flying off just by his cold stare.
The king wants to step off to finally rest but judging by the state of his son it’s borderline impossible. The only thing that could fix his existing problem is by throwing an extravagant party out of nowhere just for the sake of his son’s non existent romantic life.
Prince Doyoung’s forehead creases as his hairdressers styled his hair to something that is not common to his sight. Brush up, with occasional blue strands sticking out amongst his jet black hair. He grumbles underneath his breath, “is this even necessary?”
The stylist gives him a wave of his hands. “Why of course! It’s your night.”
“Yeah right.”
“Language prince!”
At the night of the party, the prince grows really bored. He tried to keep a friendly facade just for the sake of the alliance his father has kept all the years he has been ruling. The prince would just sit in his study and paint about landscapes or music, rather than be in an obnoxious party that only gave him a pounding headache.
His butler chimes in. His smile is too flashy for the prince. He claps his hands excitingly, the chains of his monocle clinks against the pin on his suit pockets. “Prince, I’m delighted to show you my niece from the Capitol.”
The prince gives his butler a slight smile. He’s tired yet judging from the tone of his butler, this woman might be impeccable, someone who’ll fit his tastes. He always trusts his butler, Jerry. There is no way he’ll be showing him a woman that clearly triggers his impatience. Unlike those that he met from the easternmost kingdom, they are quite, well, brazen.
“Pardon me, prince. But let me pull her out.” Jerry hisses, “come out now! Don’t let the prince wait for you!”
The prince is beyond amused at the sight of his infuriated butler. He stares quietly, eyeing the girl his butler pulled out from the concession stand.
You immediately duck your head down in embarrassment. You know about the prince and the news of the open party really delighted you. But now that he is here in front of you with all his glory and beauty. You seem to get your tongue tied up and your brain puzzled. You play with your fingers while your uncle keeps on nudging you to speak.
The prince laughs. “Shall I take you to a dance?”
The sight shocks the people. The king is so delighted. The prince always takes down requests for a dance and there he is, dancing with a girl that seems to be his very own princess.
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↳ mark ; if eyes could speak
note: @neozities this is the edited version! <3 hope u’ll like it <3
If eyes could speak
One look would say everything
About the way you smile
The way you laugh
The way you dress
The way your beauty leaves me breathless
If eyes could speak
I wouldn't have to talk
“If I were you, I’d definitely get her number.”
Mark’s reverie was broken by the nudge of his friend, Johnny, on his arm. He offered Mark a can of beer, which he took with relish. The cold metal bit on his lips as he took a swig off the beer, his eyes never leaving your laughing visage at the far corner of the dance floor.
“Nah, I’m prolly not her type.” Mark let out a deep chuckle while shaking his head. It’s been weeks since he first saw you in the same club. Your carefree laugh was the reason why he was so enthralled every time you walked in the same door.
Mark must admit, your beauty is remarkable. He has seen models on the runway, actresses on dinner dates— but your face stood from all of them. You were simply you. No pretense.
His eyes followed you as your friend pushed you towards the dancefloor. A shy smile was painted on your face. But the reluctance quickly receded as the music blasted and the throng of individuals started to dance.
He does hope you don’t find him weird by staring, though. It was hard to take his eyes off of you. Especially when you look like that.
“If you don’t make a move, I will,” Johnny stated, attempting to stand up and walk towards you. Mark sprang up on his feet, arm stretching to stop his friend.
“I can handle this.” No, he couldn’t. Nervousness swelled up in Mark’s chest. And it’s his first time to feel all jittery before talking to a girl. He found out that he doesn’t have any right words to say to you. Offering you a drink would be a waste of time, since it’s too cliché. Mark, for what seems like the first time, wanted to impress a girl in his own unique way.
Mark emptied the can and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He counted five more seconds before he decided to saunter up to you. As he drew closer to you, a guy interrupted your dancing by snaking his arms around your waist.
For a moment, Mark thought you were taken and he’d lost the chance. But the furrow of your brows, and the way you struggled to push the guy off of you kindled something in him. Without thinking of the ramifications, Mark took the last strides to get to you and placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder, intentionally digging his nails into the fabric and into the boy’s skin.
The boy slackened his hold off you. Mark leaned closer to the boy’s ear. “Do we have a problem here?” He shouted, trying to break his eardrum.
Mark prepared himself for a brawl when the boy finally turned his face towards him. But as realization dawned on his weasel-like face, he bowed and scurried off somewhere.
That leaves him in front of you. In the middle of dancing bodies.
“Wow, thank you so much for that.” You tried to smile, but agitation was clear in your eyes.
Amidst the booming speakers, your voice was all that he could hear. Gods, your voice was sweeter than what he had expected. Mark felt his face heat up. He could only pray that you couldn’t see how red he was.
“I...” he stammered, and he never stammered. “I— it’s...”
“Are you okay?” Then the first chuckle broke free out of your mouth.
Mark was certain of the blush that has crept into his cheeks. He bit his lip, cursing himself for this embarrassment. Instead of answering, he motioned his hand towards the exit door.
You followed his hand with a raised brow. “You want us to go out?”
Then he nodded. Speak, for fuck’s sake, Mark Lee. He was glad that you understood what he meant. Your smile never faltered as you exited the club.
Cool breeze touched Mark’s cheek. Hopefully, it would calm down the redness of his face. The last thing he wants right now is to ruin himself in front of you.
With the sliver of moon touching your face, and with the little light from the club’s entrance, your face was obscured beautifully. He could see the twinkle of your eyes, and the glint of the gloss you’ve put on your lips.
“Well...? I assumed you’re ready to talk?”
Mark blinked, before braving himself to speak. “Mark Lee,” he stated, stretching out his hand to you.
“Mark Lee,” you repeated. And why did his name sound heavenly with your voice? You took his hand and shook it, the skinship sending goosebumps on his back. “I’m Y/N, pleased to meet you.”
Mark, then, clapped his hand. Two sets of doe eyes stared at him in awe. Their mouths formed in little o’s. “And that’s how I met your mother. Now, time to sleep.”
“Papa, we want more stories!” They both said in unison. Mark supposed it’s because they’re twins. Deep dimples appeared on their cheeks as they both formed their mouths in a thin line.
“Tomorrow. Mama will be very angry if she comes home to both of you still wide awake.” He pats both of their heads and ruffled their hairs. “Now, give Papa a kiss.”
The twins sighed, but they wrapped their little arms around Mark’s neck, kissing both his cheeks.
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