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restlessmaknae · 2 years

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a moon apart [seoho]

What if you have a soulmate, but you can only meet ever so scarcely?

What if you have a soulmate, but he can never be yours?

➳ Characters: Seoho x princess!reader/you

➳ Genre: folktale-ish, fantasy, mystery, kingdom au, royalty au, soulmate au, romance, angst

➳ Words: 3.5k

➳ Warning: mentions of imaginary gods and goddesses (let me know if you find more!)

➳ A/N: This is my contribution to the Eternally Yours collab hosted by the lovely @sungbeam. You can check out the collab and the participating writers here. Thank you for letting me participate! ❤️

➳ Oneus taglist: @dat-town, @tranquilpetrichor, @laaylaazyy, @effulgentfireflies, @anime-lover-2020

The elderly in your kingdom had a saying: lovers who meet during the full moon are lovers forever - both in this life and in the afterlife. In other words, they are one soul in two different bodies. They are soulmates.

It was an old saying, something that citizens took more or less seriously, but you liked to think it true. Your parents had met during a full moon after all, and they were still as much in love with each other as in the beginning. You kept hoping that one day, you would have a love like theirs: so selfless, uplifting and withstanding all seasons of life.

So far, you had not met the one though. Maybe you had been merely unlucky, maybe the places you frequented weren’t the ones where people found love - or maybe it was rather because you were a princess, and princesses didn’t randomly stumble upon their love in the woods on a moonlit night or by walking in the royal gardens accompanied by the moon high up in the sky. Your parents didn’t want to force you to marry someone you didn’t love, and even though you had suitors, none of them made your heart race.

However, time was pressuring as your parents were getting older, and you had no other siblings who could save you from being the heir to the throne. So every now and then, you and your parents went to the shrine of the Goddess of Earth, also known as Mother Nature, and burnt sacrifices - the first piece of snowflower of the year, the first blossom of the cherry trees, the first potato harvested and such - to ask for guidance, for appreciation by the gods. It was said that those who made good to the Earth were rewarded with prosperity - let it be regarding an actual harvest, a thriving business or love.

Indeed, Mother Nature heard your plea, but you crossed paths with more than one boy afterwards, yet you loved only one.

The one who could not be yours.

Prince Hwanwoong was a delicate, diligent yet sometimes childish prince, someone who could make you laugh with his silly faces and goofy behaviour and make your heart flutter with his thoughtfulness - let it be asking for a cup of chamomile tea for you when you had an upset stomach or helping you lift the hem of your dress when you were stepping into a carriage. He definitely made the days at the palace seem brighter, the atmosphere more cheery, your parents’ worries more subtle. There was only one problem though: that you didn’t love him.

Even though he was a sight to behold, a prince who knew his responsibilities, a future heir who knew his responsibilities and truly, genuinely cared for his people, you didn’t love him like your mother loved your father.

“There is no need to rush, my dear. Maybe one day, you will realise that you have already fallen for him,” your mother put a reassuring hand over your shoulder when you shared your concern with her. In return, you directed a grateful smile at her and turned back to the mirror to have one last glance at your midnight-blue gown for the ball that the Yeo family was holding at their palace. You were invited alongside your parents after you had met the prince through a ball your own family had organised, but you were nervous about today - about the lack of butterflies in your stomach.

This nervousness didn’t leave you for the rest of the night either, and despite prince Hwanwoong appearing to be as kind and gentle as always, your heart was heavy after the ball, thus sleep didn’t come to you easily that night. Nor the night after when you headed back home, and there was already another encounter in talks with the Yeo royal family.

To ease your nerves, you did what you had always done: walking through the royal garden, gazing up at the moon - a plump, round full moon in all its glory - and pacifying your heartbeat through breathing techniques the royal medic suggested. You usually ended your walk in the garden, but that night, you went even further, and only halted when the magnificent, crystal-clear pond came into view. There though, you felt your body shake, and you let yourself cry far from the watching eyes of the servants or your worried parents.

To your surprise though, there was someone who had been watching you, and upon hearing your sobs, he came out from behind a tree, his instinct telling him to console you. However, when you heard branches crunching under his feet, you yelped, confusion overtaking your features as you locked eyes with him.

“It’s okay. You can cry. I won’t tell anyone,” he justified while raising his hands in front of his chest as if he was trying to defend himself. He didn’t look like a servant, he had more delicate clothes for that - a blindingly white, loose shirt that was tightened by the waist with a similarly white belt, soft snow-white cotton pants and ballroom shoes. He was also delicate in his features - smooth pale skin, plump lips, chiselled jawline and warm brown eyes that held a whole university in them. It was as if the moon above reflected in his orbs with all its light and warmth.

Despite being surprised - and a bit frightened a minute ago -, the worry that you saw in his eyes reminded you just what kind of a state you had been in before he had shown up, and felt your lips quiver. Then, you turned your back to him in hopes of suppressing your cry, but to no avail. Your tears just kept flowing like the raindrops racing down the windows on a stormy night, and your whole body was soon shaking with your sobs.

“You may feel like the whole world is on your shoulders now, but the sun will rise, another moon will come up, and it will all pass,” the stranger said in such a soothing voice that it almost felt like a warm hug. Even though he didn’t come up to touch you, you felt surrounded by light and a sense of calm that had never visited you before.

However, after crying as much as you wanted and letting him console you with his words, you were about to turn around to thank him, only to find the serene garden behind you bathing in the moonlight, no one else.

He truly left without a trace.

The next time you met, it was almost in the same setting, but with a few different details. This time, the weather was turning chilly, the leaves were falling elegantly from the weary, arched trees that were almost sighing with relief that they could let go of the added weight. Just like you who kept reminding yourself of the mysterious stranger’s words to keep going, to keep showing up for events and to keep seeing if your heart was ready to accept Hwanwoong’s love.

This time, you weren’t crying, and the stranger was no longer in his white attire. Instead, he was in a dirty grey coat dotted with white patches like little clouds on the night sky, and his smile was gentle, but it faltered a bit when you asked him why he was here.

“I come here sometimes. I like the way the moonlight reflects on the surface of the pond,” he mused out loud as he took a few steps closer to you. Not directly towards you because he halted beside you, but his closer proximity still triggered an erratic heartbeat symphony in you.

“That, I can understand,” you bobbed your head, sharing his sentiment. You felt oddly bashful under his otherwise affectionate glance, so you turned towards the pond instead, watching the small ripples on the surface, the water giving in to the power of the occasional gentle breeze that passed by.

“Is your heart a little less heavy than last time?”

So he remembered. The thought alone was enough to paint your cheeks in the colour of the vivid cherry trees in full bloom, but you tried to keep your voice steady despite his obviously caring question.

“Yes, it is. Thank you for last time.”

“I didn’t do anything special,” he denied, almost coy, and you could see from the corner of your eyes how he shook his head. Usually, you weren’t one who kept pressuring the topic when the other was a bit nervous around you, but you felt the need to let him know just how thankful you were.

“Sometimes just listening to someone is enough. There are so many people who want to tell me what to do, how to feel, whom to love… They aren’t willing to listen to how I truly feel and what I truly want,” you shared with him, your voice more resigned than you had intended.

You were a princess, the sole heir to the royal couple of your kingdom, so you had your fair share of duties and responsibilities. Nevertheless, a lot of times you felt that just because you were young and you were a female, you had no right to feel the way you did. Everyone wanted to tell you how to feel, and everyone acted as if they knew you so well.

“They probably want to reassure themselves that they know you better than you do know yourself. You shouldn’t let them sway you,” he pointed out gently, no room for malice in his voice. He wasn’t even reprimanding you, he was more like consoling you - yet again.

“I’m trying,” you bobbed your head, turning your head to glance at him, only to find him already looking at him. When you caught his eyes, his lips curled into the tiniest of smiles, but there was so much in it - so much empathy, so much understanding and so much hope. You had never paid a lot of attention to people’s microexpressions, but you couldn’t help but notice how relaxed his whole body was from the smooth arch of his eyebrows to the way his jaw was set and his shoulders eased. As if he was perfectly at peace with the world.

You reciprocated his smile, finding it easy to do so despite not knowing each other for long. Crazy how it was only the second time you met!

“What’s your name?” You inquired, hopefully in a friendly manner, but there was a hint of panic going through the boy’s eyes. However, in the next moment, he was back to his relaxed self.

“I’m Seoho,” he answered, and you guessed that he didn’t ask back because he already knew who you were. You also felt as if he knew you already, but this kind of feeling wasn’t unpleasant. Because the way you talked was always comfortable and comforting - like the softness of the freshly washed sheets or the fact that you knew that the sun would rise in the morning.

“Glad to have met you, Seoho. You always seem to know what to say to make me feel better.”

“Likewise,” he smiled back, and then turned back to look at the pond bathing in the full moon’s light.

You kept talking about little nothings and big, heavy topics until the moonlight started fading and you felt sleepish. When you parted that night though, you asked if he would come again, and when he said yes, it was the first time you felt butterflies in your stomach.

You and prince Hwanwoong kept meeting during balls and other royal families’ weddings, and even though he would have never pressured you into anything, you saw the glances his and your parents sent in your way, and you wondered how long they would wait before they would tell you to actually get married - for the sake of the two families, of the two kingdoms. The prince clearly liked you and tried to take care of you - bringing you a bouquet of your favourite flower when he knew that you would be meeting and suggesting places that he knew you would like.

On the other hand, all you could think about was the reflection of the stars in Seoho’s eyes, the light he lit up in your heart and his gentle words that felt like a blanket over your shoulders on a cold night. Talking with him was more than just a conversation; it was a walk down memory lane, it was a way to reflect on all the good and bad and it was like picking little seeds of hope to bury them into the ground, to wait for them to start growing, to start blooming. Being with him brought great pleasure into your days, but fearing what your parents would think of you meeting up with a member of the staff, you tried not to visit the pond too much at nights - when you weren’t busy with other things, that is.

Sometimes Seoho didn’t even come, but you still kept meeting, months and seasons passing by. Yet, once as you were sitting under the half-moon, you wondered where he could be working and what his shifts could look like given that you met each other so infrequently. Prompted by the thought, you visited the main maid’s office to inquire about Seoho. However, much to your bewilderment, she said that there was no one named Seoho working at the palace. You were so perplexed that the next time you met the boy, your first question towards him was why you couldn’t see him so much around, hoping to see if he was trying to come up with excuses or he would tell you why he was truly there.

Seoho was a bit taken aback by your question, and it was the first time you saw him a bit bittersweet. However, he still responded.

“It’s because I’m not here all the time. Just every full moon.”

You could see that he wasn’t lying. Everything in his demeanour told you that he was being honest, but that just broke your heart even more because he appeared so resigned. As if he had already played out this conversation in his head before you had the chance to ask about it.

“Why? How do you even get access to the royal gardens?” You quirked an eyebrow as you laced your arms in front of your chest, suddenly cautious. Who could he be if he wasn’t working here? You would have never dared to question him, but his answer didn’t shine a light on the truth either.

“I don’t need it.”

“Seoho, I don’t understand,” you pressed, shaking your head. While it was true that you had met during a full moon and you thought that if he hadn’t been your soulmate, then no one else could have been your soulmate, but still… Was he just a trick of your imagination? Was he breaking rules to see you?

“I don’t want to break your heart, but I’m afraid I’ll do so if I tell you the truth,” he replied without stepping closer to you even though you itched to reach out to him. Especially now more than ever when it seemed that his whole existence was a big question.

“Are you… a ghost?” You guessed hesitantly, and when he didn’t reply immediately, you reached out to place a hand over his heart to ground yourself, to make you see that he was there, that he was very much alive. That’s when your lips parted though. Even though his skin was warm under your touch, you couldn’t feel the beating of his heart. You pressed more firmly, but still nothing, and the way Seoho looked back at you was enough of an answer in itself.

How could you have missed it when he had even hugged you before, holding you close to his chest?

“I am not a ghost. I have a human form, but I’m immortal. I’m the God of the Moon.”

You tried to rack your head around the fact that he was someone you read about in books, someone for whom you had burned sacrifices, someone who had been in your kingdom’s anthem, someone who should have been an old man according to the tales.

“I-” You started, too many questions crossing your mind all at once. You started with the most confusing one. “How is that even possible? I thought gods and goddesses don’t visit us in the human realm.”

“They do, humans merely don’t know. I know for a fact that Mother Nature also likes helping out on the fields, but she usually changes her human form. I am, on the other hand, fond of this one,” he explained, boasting an almost cheeky smile as he looked down at himself, but when he caught your eyes, his lips turned into a thin line, his expression hardening. “I usually visit the human realm only during the full moon though. That’s when I have my energy in full, and I visit back here to keep reminding myself why I should continue lighting the way for humans. I like listening to troubled souls’ stories because that way, I know that my efforts are not in vain.”

His words were so like him, but you would have never guessed that he was a god. Now though, it made sense why he was fond of the pond - he had said that it was because he liked the way the moonlight reflected on its surface -, why you couldn’t see him so often - because he only came to visit the human realm every full moon, so every 29 days -, why he spoke so wisely despite his seemingly young age, and why he was so good at comforting you.

“Why did you keep visiting me?” You pondered once you came back to your senses. He said that he kept visiting back to remind himself of his duty, and that he liked listening to troubled souls’ stories. He didn’t mention that he had to revisit one after having met them already.

“Why did you keep coming back to the pond then?” He asked back instead of answering, and you were so on the edge already that you blurted out your answer without thinking ahead.

“Because I wanted to see you, because I’m afraid I might be in love with you.”

Given other circumstances, this might have been a heartfelt confession. However, considering that he had just admitted that he was the god of the Moon, it just made everything even more complicated, even more wrong. He was an immortal, you were a human. He only had this human form ever so scarcely, and he could only visit you during every full moon. Realistically speaking, you could never have a future together, but the way you were still waiting for an answer from him - an indication of some sort - was enough of a proof that despite everything, you still cared if he reciprocated your feelings.

“Well…” Seoho sighed a long, aghast sigh. He averted his eyes for a moment to gaze at the pond under the canvas of the sky and the dirty grey moon, then looked back at you. “I’m afraid of the same.”

Those words were engraved into your heart afterwards; because it was a confession of some sort yet it was a goodbye of some sort as well. Something so sad yet so beautiful, so comforting yet so painful. It was as if those few words were just like the time you shared with him: dreamlike and something that was out of your reach all too soon.

The elderly in your village had a recent saying when it started raining more and more during full moons after seeing Seoho for the last time: that Mother Nature cried for the lovers who couldn’t meet for whatever reason, and this was her way of mourning the missed chances of soulmates meeting.

You, on the other hand, knew that it wasn’t true. It was because though you had a love like your parents’ - so selfless, uplifting and withstanding all seasons of life -, you couldn’t be with your soulmate for he was a god and you were a mortal princess. Your paths should have never crossed in the first place, but maybe full moons weren’t just for eternal love, they were for miracles, too.

However, even though your love couldn’t bloom, you would always cherish the time you spent with Seoho, and whenever you looked up at the sky, it felt like the Moon was watching over you, let it be day or night, and the thought itself made you feel safe.

(Little did you know, it was actually true: Seoho had never stopped watching over you ever since.)

A/N: Oneus has so many moon references in their songs, not to mention the masterpiece the Luna MV is, no wonder I got inspired by their symbolism. *-*

Hope you enjoyed this story of mine (and I hope you don’t hate me too much for the bitter ending)!

Thank you so much for reading! Hope you have a lovely day/night! ❤️

#oneus scenarios #oneus imagines #oneus x reader #eternally yours collab #oneus x you #seoho scenarios #seoho imagines #seoho x reader #seoho x you #oneus fantasy #seoho fantasy

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smallsdotcom · 4 years

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COUP D’ETAT. xion

── summary. he was sent to kill the enemy kingdom’s leader. what he didn’t expect was to find him already dead, with the murderer still in the room.

── genre. royal + angst

── word count. 1.4k

── warnings. language + blood + murder + someone gets decapitated + talks of a coup d’etat

── message. posted originally on @thelargefrye but moved it here. this was also going to apart of a collab that never happened, so i might just write for the other oneus members and make this a small miniseries.

you had been expecting the knock on your door. quiet as to not alert anyone else in the surrounding area of your room. without saying anything, the door opened and stepped inside one of the guards.

“your highness,” he addressed you as he bowed before you. you didn’t bother to look at him, only choosing to stare out your window and onto the kingdom you were born to eventually rule over. “everything is in place. your father, the king, is in his room and the generals have all returned to their homes.”

“good. your job is done, you may go,” you say, finally turning to face the guard. he took notice of the sword in your hand, the blade glinting brightly against the fire lit candles and the dim light from the moon. the guard remembers when the coup against your father was just starting, and how you had told them that if your father was to die then it would be by your blade.

it wasn’t like you wanted to kill your father, he was your father after all, but his ruling had become merciless and he was now a tyrant instead of a king. the people of your kingdom were suffering and soldiers were being sent out to meaningless battles only to die. he needed to be stopped and since he was your father, then it was only fit that you killed him.

after the guard had left, you had waited a few moments before you also left your room. the palace was empty, not a single guard or servant could be seen around the halls and there was no light, leaving your home to be dark. the only true light was that of the moon which was slowly disappearing due to the clouds moving to cover the moon. your sword hidden well in your dress, as a way to not alert your father to the weapon you held.

standing in front of your father’s chambers, you finally came across two other souls in the palace which were the guards standing in front of his door. with a quick motion of your head, the two guards bowed before quietly leaving as to not alert your father of their departure from their posts. you could faintly see the light of the many candles from the bottom crack of his door. he was still up. didn’t really matter though because he would be dead soon anyway.

you knock on his door before opening the door and entering. stepping inside, you find your father sitting at his small tea table placed at the end of bed. your father greeted you with a grunt as he took a sip of his tea, “daughter, what are you doing up this late?”

“just checking to make sure you’re still alive. who knows what the other kingdoms are planning,” you say, crossing your arms as you scan the room quickly with your eyes.

“i’m guessing you’re happy to see me still alive then, huh?”

“of course, father, i wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”

“y/n, enough with the chit-chat. i know what you and some of the generals have been planning,” he says looking over at your face. you show no emotion to give away that you know what he’s talking about. “so they really decided that you would be the one to kill me huh?”

“no.” you say simply, taking the step towards him while reaching for your sword. “i decided that i would be the one to kill you,” you add, sword on full display for him to see. neither you nor your father showed any emotion as you pressed the sword to his neck.

“you ignorant brat! do you know what would happen to this kingdom once you kill me! no one will accept a girl as their ruler!”

“is that suppose to scare me? i don’t care if the people or any other damn kingdom accepts me or not, i plan on making this kingdom better. i won’t be a tyrant like you.”

“you have my blood running through your veins, you crazy bitch! the only thing our family knows how to do is rule with power and fear!” your father spits out, a crazed look on his face, but yours remain stoic which seems to irk your father. “when did you become such an emotionless bitch?” he questions.

“since i was born.” you answer, “i’m done talking with you. any last words you wish to say to your darling daughter?” you asked as you position yourself and your sword.

“i hope you and this kingdom burn in–

you don’t allow him to finish as you swing your sword through his neck, separating his head from his body. blood splatters everywhere and covers your face and dress as you watch your father’s head roll onto the floor a few feet away from its body before the body falls over. blood continuously coming out and staining the once clean floors. you wipe your blood-stained blade on your matching stained dress.

“come out assassin, i know you’re there,” you say without looking at where the male was hidden. xion was shocked at your words, still trying to recover from watching you kill your father, his target.

xion was sent to your kingdom in order to kill the tyrant king as there were plans of him wanting to go to war with the other kingdoms. he didn’t expect to find the princess and other generals of the kingdom to have been planning a coup against the king.

slowly, xion stepped out of his hiding spot and into the light so you both could now see each other. him dressed in all black with light armor in order to protect him against attacks, you note that the armor could only handle light attacks and anything stronger than a regular arrow could easily damage him. you of course covered in blood, sword still out and gripped in your hand, ready to fight if you need to.

“do i have to kill you as well?” you ask and the male can’t tell if you're being serious or not. suddenly, you let out a laugh catching xion off-guard slightly as he looked at you like you had gone mad. “i’m kidding.”

“how long had you planned to overthrow and kill the king?”

“why do you want to know? so you can go and tell your own king about what’s happening so he can plan a way to come in and take over my kingdom?” xion doesn’t say anything giving you a clear answer. “listen, assassin, i killed my father because my people were suffering and i couldn’t take watching it any longer. i plan to rule over this kingdom and i’m letting some bastard, fat-ass, misogynist king come in and take what i killed for,” you spit out, face inches from xion’s as you hold an angry, serious face.

you take a step away from the male, you stretch your neck out making it pop before you out an annoyed sigh. “how about we make a deal?”

“a deal?” xion echos and you nod.

“you go back to your king and tell him nothing about what you saw tonight and i’ll pay you in anything you want,” you say, xion looks at you in disbelief and he searches your face to see if you’re lying.

“anything i want?”

“anything you want.” you’re the one to echo his words this time.

xion hesitates and you assume he’s thinking it over before he finally speaks, “my brother.”

“your brother?”

“i want you to take my brother into the palace and protect him with your life.”

“your brother comes to live here and you say nothing to your king,” you say and xion nods before holding a hand out for you to shake. you only shake your head not accepting his hand shake, “i don’t shake hands with assassins.”

you finally sheath your sword before straightening out your dress, the blood now in the process of drying and you know you’ll have to throw the dress away. shame, it was one of your favorites. you look at the male once more, “i’m y/n.”

“xion.”

“well, xion, send me a letter when you’re ready and i’ll come and fetch your brother. you have my word that i’ll protect him and allow him to live comfortably here. if i break my end of the deal, you can kill me.”

“yes... your highness,” xion says, bowing and a smirk graces both your faces as you watch him turn and heads towards the window where he came in before disappearing into the night.

#[ 🧾 ] — diary entries #oneus x reader #xion x reader #oneus xion x reader #oneus scenarios #oneus imagines #oneus blurbs #oneus angst #oneus royal au

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mirror-juliet · 4 years

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Distractions Lee Keonhee X Reader X Kim Youngjo

This small AU has multiple parts to it, so look out for those in the future. This might be a bit of a slow burn because this part is mostly build up for the next few parts Warnings: Angst, mentions of infidelity, mentions of sex, depression

Being a mistress to a prince was never promised to be easy, being the mistress to Prince Keonhee was destined to be a living hell. But you've been prepared for it, Crossing all lines and meeting every challenge with a blank face has kept you by his side for many years.

You were six when you first met him, he was eight. Your father had taken you to the castle to watch him trade with the king. He provided the kingdom with it's jewels and minerals, in return the crown provided him and your family outrageous amounts of gold and lands.

Keonhee had seen your timid form, hiding behind your mother's dress and he became fascinated with you. "Hello, I'm Keonhee. Who are you?" He had snuck up behind you, scaring the living daylights out of your small form. From frazzlement, you had dropped your precious doll and were too scared to pick it up. "Here, this is yours right?" He had tried handing it back. "Well, don't you want it?" You only shook your head and hid behind your mothers dress further. "Why are you carrying it around if you don't want it?" Keonhee looked like your dog as he cocked his head to the side, somehow it made him seem more approachable. With shaky legs, you stepped forward and snatched the doll out of his hands. Retreating back to your mother's dress, one of your eyes peaking at him.

"I-i'm Y/n." Your voice was just below a breath. "That's a pretty name. Do you like flowers?" A nod from you was all it took before he was dragging you down the halls of the castle. He took you outside to a hedge maze. It was so confusing with it's twists and turns but Keonhee seemed to know where he was going. After what seemed like forever you both arrived to a clearing with so many different types of flowers. You were in awe, never in your life had you seen so many arranges. "Do you want one?" You quickly nodded your head, he giggled and plucked a red layered flower, weaving it into your headband. "It's called a dahlia. Let me help you make a bouquet." That had been the tradition for you both whenever you would attend court every few months; going to the garden and picking flowers for each other. Whenever you got to your estate you would have one of the maids press the flowers to preserve them.

********

"Y/n, we need to talk to you." Your mother said in the carriage. "You aren't just coming with us for trading experience....... You will be living in the castle from now on. When we leave for home, you can't come with us." Her words were strange and scary to you, being only ten years old. You didn't understand why you couldn't go home with her. "You are to stay and find a suitor. We will have lady's to help you of course and you wouldn't be making any decisions until you are of age." Your father had taken over talking, much more blunt than your mother's words. "Papa, why can't i stay when i'm of age? Why can't i stay with you and Mother?" You were on the verge of tears. Of course you loved Irestall court and the friends you've made there, but you didn't want to leave your family. "They will teach you how to be a wife. You'll follow instructions, you will not make a fuss or anybody's job hard. Am i clear Y/n?" Your father's tone was firm, letting you know this decision was final and you never had any say in it at all. Something you were going to have to get used to. "Yes father."

You spent nine years in court since you were ten, in that time Keonhee was your best friend, always finding you in his free time and whisking you away to some new adventure. You still picked flowers for each other, weaving them in each other's hair. The maids didn't like it when you did that to Keonhee. They always had to clean his hair before letting him be seen by nobles, and Keonhee always made them take care in pressing the flowers. Eventually the flowers started to pile up so much that the king had two wooden chests made for you both. He let the two of you decorate them however you wanted and they were placed at the end of your beds.

When you became fifteen you received a note from your father that you had finally come of age and that you were required to find a husband. Only, you didn't want to find a husband. The boy you loved was already near you. Your love for Keonhee grew quickly, vining up the corners of your heart until soon your whole body was filled with love for him. The idea of marrying someone else hurt your heart beyond what you could describe. So you found yourself in the garden, on the stone bench dripping tears on your father's letter. "Y/n?" Keonhee. "Dongju saw you come out here. Whats wrong?" He sat next to you and cradled your face in his hands. "I've become of age." You shoved the letter towards him, the sparkle in his eyes dim as he reads over the words. "Keonhee, i don't want to marry." Tears began to spill faster onto your cheeks, Keonhee quickly caught them. "Then don't." "My family will shun me Keonhee....." "Not if you tell them that your suitors are unfit for you to marry. Come up with excuses, dig up any scandal that you can." You grabbed onto his arms. "We both know that there always isn't scandals with nobles." He pressed his forehead against yours. "Then i'll make the scandals for you. I'll do whatever i can to keep you with me, if it's the last thing i do." That was the day you and Keonhee shared your first kiss, it was sweet and it took your breath away. You knew you couldn't leave him in that moment.

Two years later, the day your father died, you weren't as sad as you felt you should have been. He gave you life after all, but when you received the letter from your mother, you found you had no tears left to shed. He was the one who turned your world upside down since you were ten, You haven't even seen your mother since you started living in court, Did you even want to? In the garden, you began to think about it. She had every opportunity to see you, but she didn't. She didn't make any attempt to make your life any easier. "Hello love." You hadn't even noticed him come into the clearing. "I have a gift for you. Close your eyes." He grabbed your hands in his surprisingly smooth hands. "Now i know this won't help your grief," The uncomfortable feeling of parchment became prominent in your hands. "But it might be a start. Open your eyes." It was indeed a folded piece of paper with the bankers seal in the red wax. "Whats this?" You were in shock peeling the wax off.

It was your dowry, deciding who received your inheritance of the mines once your father passed, as well as his wealth. "Keonhee....." He took your hands in his again. You looked in his eyes to confirm what your heart was refusing to accept. "You are now the head of your house. All the mines and wealth were transferred to your name this morning. You don't have to find a husband until you're ready." "I'm free. We can finally be together." The both of you became intimate that night, no longer having to worry about keeping your virtue for a husband, you no longer needed one. After your intimacy, Keonhee had surprised you with another gift. It was a golden ring with a ruby gem in the center, something you always saw him wearing. It was a promise to keep you by his side forever, no matter what you two faced together.

So you continued to watch him entertain suitor after suitor, declining them all while you traded with the kingdom; keeping your spot at court. You were the only one Keonhee could confine in when times got hard in the kingdom, letting you run your fingers through his hair. Often times than not he would steal you away to his bed chambers to let off steam. Keonhee wasn't the only one with troubles though, he was there to comfort you when your mind got too much for you. Keonhee is a desirable prince to have, Not only is he good looking, he had a very high education, could fight in a battle and give off war commands. Needless to say, many kingdoms want an alliance with him-Much like today. Princess Cadenza of Eryburn, the farthest kingdom away from Irestall. Having an alliance with them would be a extreme military impact, they rule over the neighboring country's of our own. Both crown's are the hierarchy's of the world, All other Kingdoms flicker in comparison to Irestall and Erybrun. If Keonhee and Cadenza marry, Keonhee would be ruling eight country's when his father, the current king dies.

"Maybe the king will see that he can find a better alliance elsewhere." Aeyoung, your lady's maid says as she pulls the strings of your corset taught; The damn thing constricting your breathing. "He wont, all the other desirable kingdoms have proposed to Keonhee and he's declined them all. You know just as well as me the impact this alliance will build. The king would be stupid to decline this offer." You gasp and hold tighter to the bedpost as she tightens it for the last time. "Didn't you want him to decline those girls though?" "Not exactly, the others, the lesser kingdoms....I would be able to control those princesses. They couldn't touch me-they had no power to." Aeyoung pulls your stockings up your legs and fastens them to your guarder belt. "And Cadenza has that power? Isn't it a crime to attack one of the prince's favorite people?" Poor Aeyoung, so un-jaded to the world of royals, though you can't blame her, she didn't grow up in court like you did.

"The difference is that Cadenza has assassins at her disposal, if i try to make it known to her that i am in first place. Well, you can imagine what happens next. I would be nothing but a name no longer spoken about the halls. There would be no way to trace it back to her." You began to put your jewelry on, slipping the over-sized ruby ring over your thumb. "Don't nearly all king's have mistresses?" "Yes, which i'm hoping she wont try to fight against that. Now, best for us to be going off then. Wouldn't want to miss Princess Cadenza's grand arrival."

You've known about her proposal for months, Keonhee told you as he was bombarding you with gifts. The news wasn't as bad until you had heard of who had proposed. You broke three vases in your room that week. She was finally here, in your territory and you'd be damned if you weren't gonna put up one hell of a fight. Because you had him first. You among other nobles stand in the throne room, waiting for her majesty's arrival. Your eyes can't help but wander back to Keonhee, how could one man possibly be so handsome? Most of his clothing is covered by a black velvet robe, the eye catcher is the breastplate sewn into the fabric. Golden and silver vinery , each leaf dawned with small diamonds from your mines. It was a birthday gift formally from your family, un-formally it was a gift you had hand crafted for him. A reminder to everyone in the room of your position in the princes' life. Because even though he is meeting his future wife, there he stands wearing a gift from his lover who stands not too far away.

"Princess Cadenza Gianna, Louella IV of Eryburn!" The foot boy announces as they open the large doors. Your heart stops beating once she begins to walk into the room, nearly forgetting to bow as she approaches. Cadenza is a gorgeous girl with skin the of pure honey, hair that resembles fire as it falls in delicate ringlets, framing her face so smooth it could pass as porcelain. How you've prayed to the gods for her to be ugly, but she is everything but. In Keonhee's eyes, it shows he thinks the same of her. Beautiful as as goddess and for once in your life, you feel threatened by a woman.

She bows her hair in greeting, her status not needing her to do more. Another reminder that because she is his equal, would make it that much easier for her to steal him away. Your fingers rub over the ring once again, not listening as they go over the agreement of the alliance. Not a necessity-of course they've already agreed over letters. This is only the final chance for either country to back away. 'Please God, let us find an alliance elsewhere. Please.' Deep in your heart, you know, there is no other alliance, and this will start a war if they step away this far into the agreement. Cadenza's belongings are most likely being put into a chamber this moment. The same moment you watch Keonhee take in every aspect of Cadenza. "Then i don't see why we shouldn't set the day of your marriage." The king says, your heart sinking lower and lower in your chest, deep into your stomach where it threatens to tear out.

"I also have a condition your majesty." The room becomes unbearably quiet you can hear the shift of everyone's clothes. What else could she possibly want? She's already ripping out half of your heart. "If i am going to make an alliance not only under Romes eyes, but in God's eyes. I need to be completely faithful in this. I won't take him if he has a mistress. "

No.....He wouldn't.....He can't agree to this. He wouldn't take Keonhee away from you. You and Keonhee's relations was in no way a secret, but for it to reach her ears? She has to know that king's have Mistresses. She isn't so stupid of a woman to actually believe he is a virgin. "Very well, No one besides you will entertain the prince in such ways." No..N-No No! This isn't happening! No, i have to get out of here. This corset-It's too tight. GET IT OFF! You shout in your head. You use Keonhee sliding a ring on her finger to slip out of the room. Only when you close the doors to your chamber is when you break down, ripping your clothes in the process of pulling them off, having much difficulty removing the torso cage that's restricting your lungs. "GET THIS OFF OF ME!" You begin to let out screams that are a mix between sobs as you tug and pull on the garment. "Y/n?!" Youngjo must have slipped into your room. "Please. Please i c-cant breathe" It must have been the look on your face or the tone of your voice because he's behind you in seconds all but ripping out the laces.

Once it's loose enough he pulls it off, allowing you to fall to your knees; you couldn't care less that you're in stark in your guarder belt, stalkings and undergarments. He can't see the exposed front of you anyway. Your broken sobs echo through the room, your hands covered in the salty liquid as they try to stop the flow, quite in vain because they only become hotter and more frequent. "Here, put this on." Youngjo practically dresses you in one of your nightgowns, taking his place in front of you on the floor. "He promised me this wouldn't happen." You hiccup "And it is. What did i do to get to this Youngjo?" He pulls you to his chest, stroking your hair as you let out all your pains hidden over the months.

Youngjo was also your outlet of safety here at court. Being the cousin to Keonhee, you both grew up together. He used to treat you like a pest for taking Keonhee's attention, as he realized you would be sticking around for a while-Youngjo quickly became one of your closest friends. Somewhere in the mix of soothing you, he had lost his overcoat, leaving a white undergarment shirt for you to clutch onto and stain with your tears. You're an ugly mess heaped on the floor, your hair unpinned in a rush-Thank god for Youngjo pulling them out of your hair and attempting to smooth it. You're rouge long gone from your face and now an uncomfortable shade of bright red. "Lets get you to the bed." Youngjo nudges you to stand with him. "Please don't make me." You've stopped crying, now seemingly numb to the world. Somehow you're more heartbreaking to look at like this. Perhaps because the emotion in your body has vanished, the only signs of life your talking and breathing. Youngjo swiftly picks you up bridal style, you would fight it any other time but you couldn't care less what he does at this point. The warm comfort of the animal skins remind you even more of your lost lover, he has a liking to the skins during the winter.

"What are you doing?" You ask as he slowly climbs in the bed next to you. "I'm not letting you be alone right now. Come here." He pats the space next to him, his arm raised up like you would be so willing to crawl into another person's arms so soon after the news of Keonhee. "I know you aren't okay." You scoff, isn't it obvious? "But let me help you be okay right now. Or at least help you forget for a while." The offer is quite tempting, a distraction would be heaven on earth right now. But how could you find comfort in someone else? Why do you feel like you're being unfaithful to Keonhee...... Youngjo makes the decision for you and scoots closer to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

"Why are you doing this?" Is what you croak out after what feels like hours of laying in one spot, doing nothing but watch the shadows change with the sun setting. "I know what it's like.....To feel alone....." Your memories travel back to the day when Youngjo's parents were announced dead. It was when the plague had swept through the kingdom, No one was allowed in or out of the castle. Youngjo's parents had to take refuge in a nearby village when the crown realized. Days had passed before anyone knew where they were, days to find the house they stayed at. He never even got to see their bodies before they were thrown into a mass burn grave.

"The thought of you feeling that again, it was unbearable to me." Why? Why would it be unbearable for him? You sit up to look at his face better. His defined jaw line, the start of stubble on his cheek. And his bug eyes he finally seemed to have grown into. When did he grow up? The room is silent as you share the same glance-sorrow bedded in your eyes'. You lean in to place a test kiss on his lips, he hadn't refused. You lean in to place a longer kiss, this time your lips dance together with his. His hands are placed on your face before you allow yourself to get too lost in the kiss. "Not like this. It isn't right while we're both like this." "It's okay." "No, it isn't. Lets just lay like this for a while." His smile is sad too, why would he be so sad?

You were angry. That was the word you could confidently say after three days, not sad, but filled with rage that you felt like bursting. Maybe that's why the maids have begun to avoid you. Aeyoung has tried to get you to eat meals but you always leave it untouched until one of the maids finds it in the morning. You've found your favorite past time to be throwing things into the fireplace and watching them burn up.

"What are you doing?" "Sitting." "Get up then." "I'm busy." "Doing what?" "Watching." Your monotone voice echos the room, Youngjo looking at you in worry and frustration. You hadn't left your room in three days-Not drinking besides from the night Yongjo forced you to drink nearly a pitcher full. You hadn't eaten at all and your color was beginning to pallor, not to mention the lack of sun from your curtains being drawn shut; the only light emitting in the room came from the fireplace and very few candles.

"It's quite symbolic isn't it?" You throw a fresh piece of parchment into the logs. "How something so whole can be reduced to nothing in seconds. For what? The power of the nature at hand." You were beginning to sound dismal even to yourself, such is the mood. "The maids will be coming in to help you dress. Were going somewhere." No, we aren't. "I'm not going." He crouches next to you, his voice low. "Me and you both know i am not above dragging you out of this room, now please get up." Your body shivers as you think back on the day he dragged you into the lake he and his cousins were playing in. The maids could never repair the dress after that day. As if on cue the door opens up to Aeyoung and two younger maids, she works to rip the blinds open fast, nearly blinding you to the harsh rays of light.

"Well look at you, isn't it nice to be out in the light?" Only now in the bright hall do you get a good look of Yongjo's outfit. A light-White long sleeved dress shirt, a slit going down to show a quarter of his chest. Basic black trousers and boots. The maids dressed you two to match, a light summer dress and shoes with a shorter heel-You would put money on he's taking you on a walk. "The cooks maid blueberry muffins, i heard they're quite tasty." Your stomach does hurt from not eating, you suppose a muffin would be fine-You would have to eat it on the walk though.

"Why are we outside? There is plenty of light in the castle." There wasn't a location he had taken you, only mindlessly wondering the paths around the courtyard. He seemed to be enjoying himself, the prick.

"Youngjo, i want to go back now." You had stopped in your tracks, your hand placed on your diaphragm. He follows your line of vision, eyes widening. "No, it's okay. Lets just go somewhere else." Lips pursed and ears red, you're mad. Mad that he is deciding what you can and cant do today. And her in your fucking spot. You un-sheath the sword from Youngjo's belt, storming off on the cobble path before he can stop you. This day was going to get a lot more hectic.

"Y/N!" Youngjo yells out but you couldn't care less, your target in sight getting closer with each stride. "NUAHH!" The sword sticks out of the chest cavity of the training dummy, that a very worried boy was training at moments ago. You pull it out and raise it over your head, having trouble with the weight-and bringing it down onto the straw dummy again. Swing after swing you feel your anger flow out of you, imagining a certain face instead of the burlap one staring back at you. How could he have taken her to the garden. That was you're spot-Not cadenza's. But there she was, having flowers put in her locks by the same fingers that once pleasured you not too long ago. Once the sword feels too heavy to lift up do you stop. Face flushed and breathing ragged. Apparently you're still capable of emotions after all.

Youngjo pulls the sword out and places it back in it's place on his side, watching you with a smile on his face. "Maybe next time you're busy we can get you a sword you can swing." It takes a moment to realize it, but you're smiling at his retort. "Only if it matches yours." He holds out his hand. "Help me forge it?" Without much hesitation, you take his hand and let him take you to the tower where he has his forge. He teaches you how to smith, allowing you to take part in the smiting of your own blade. If you had married someone, this is a luxury you would never be able to hold, but here you are-Inscribing your name into the blade with the help of Youngjo.

#oneus imagines #oneus au #oneus angst #oneus royal au #oneus ravn #oneus youngjo #oneus keonhee #lee keonhee #kim youngjo

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eternalmingki · 2 years

Text

Passing Reflections (y.hw)

❊ Pairing: prince!yeo hwanwoong x fem!reader

❊ Genre: fluff, a little angst, time travel, ancient korea, royal au

❊ Warnings: angsty talk when it comes to the reader’s life, talks of relative deaths

❊ Wc: 2.2k

❊ Featuring: the rest of oneus

❊ Summary: your life has been one mishap after another. you had once accidentally stumbled across this mirror that allowed you to travel. to another world or another time, you weren’t too sure. but either way, you were happy while you were there. now, after having been away for more than a year, you were aching to see your prince and his brothers once more.

❊ a/n: comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated since that’s how the algorithm here works. So if you could reblog my works or leave a comment that would be greatly appreciated!

Your life was hell, and that was putting it lightly. In the last year, both of your parents had passed away, within a month of each other, then your aunt who you were super close with. You had grown distant from your brother due to all of this family trauma so you were practically alone.

Most of your life now was to wake up, go to work, come back and sleep, and repeat. But, unfortunately, that cycle would be broken.

“What? What do you mean you’re letting me go?” you asked your boss as he counted a till. He looked at you with a bored look on his face.

“It means you no longer work for me. Listen, y/n. You’ve been a good worker. But you’ve been very distracted lately and things aren’t being handled properly anymore. I had to make a decision and I’m sorry this was it.” he said and you felt close to tears. But you bit back your tears as you nodded.

You didn’t say much else, just handed in some of your things and left. You felt so hopeless. Why couldn’t you just have one week where you didn’t feel drained or where something went wrong? You started thinking and you made a spur of the moment decision. You still had the fan that was given to you by someone you knew. So you quickly went home and grabbed it. It was a beautiful handheld fan. It was made with delicate paper connected by delicately engraved wood, stained red. The paper had thin black lines on it and at the end of these random looking lines were pink painted flowers. The person who had painted the cherry blossom tree on your fan was the same person who had gifted it to you. And the one who had carved into the wood was the one you missed the most.

So you tucked the fan away and walked away from this life as you knew it. And you walked to the museum that was a few blocks away from your home. You walked inside and looked around, not having even bothered to bring your keys or your phone. You didn’t need them where you were headed anyway.

It was close to closing, so what you did after looking around for a while was you went into the bathroom. You entered one of the stalls and you waited. You waited for a while. And then a little while longer. Luckily, there wasn’t too much security so as the sun was setting, you quietly exited the bathroom and headed off to the exhibit of ancient Korea. There, a mirror was on display amongst other ornate things. You looked around as you came closer to the mirror.

You were making a gamble here. You’d only done this once. And you had no clue if it would work again. But anything would be better than this life. You wanted to go back. You wanted to see him again. You slowly reached your hand out and pressed it against the cool glass of the mirror. And before you knew it, your vision went.

・❥・

When your vision finally returned to you, you were slightly disoriented. You looked around as you took in your surroundings. You were inside of an empty building. The same building you appeared in last time. The mirror was nowhere in sight, but you knew where it was. You looked down at yourself and smiled. You were a beautiful hanbok, the skirt a light pink and the shirt was light grey. Your hair was in an updo, held together by pins and beautiful clips. And the fan was held in your hand.

It worked. You were finally here. You smiled your first smile in months as you started off through town. The sun was setting and there were people setting up lanterns since the night was approaching. But you weaved your way through the crowd towards the palace. The way to get there was surrounded by forest and you had to travel a little ways up a weathered dirt path to get there. You saw a couple of different guards out front as you approached. They looked at you and stood just a little more at attention as you approached.

“What is it you need?” one of them asked.

“I need to see the princes. Please, I’m a friend of theirs.” you insisted as they looked at you strangely.

“Please. Don’t try and lie. What proof do you have that you know them?” they asked as you huffed a little. You gently opened the fan and showed it to them.

“This. You recognize this art and this work, don’t you? It was gifted to me by one of your princes, please. Fetch them and let them tell you who I am.” you said quietly. The guards looked at one another before one of them sighed.

“Stay here. I will send for the princes.” he said, walking inside of the gate to the palace. You nodded as you looked around, lightly fanning yourself to pass the time as you waited.

・❥・

Hwanwoong simply was looking out of his window as he watched the sun set. Ever since you had left, he hadn’t been nearly as cheerful. Everyone could see the connection you and he had. So when you left, he became reclusive. He only ever slept, ate, worked on carvings, and walked the gardens. That had been his days for a year. When there was a knock at his door, he didn’t even look over. “Enter,” he called quietly.

He heard the door creak open and a quiet voice. “Hwanwoong? Our presence is being summoned at the gate.” he heard Youngjo speak.

“You just go, Hyung. Not all of us are needed.” he said.

“Unfortunately, we are. The others are waiting.” Youngjo said softly, watching as Hwanwoong sighed and stood.

“Fine. Let’s go.” Hwanwoong said quietly, following the eldest out of his room and through their home in almost complete silence. They arrived at the front gate and saw the other four standing with one of the guards.

“There you guys are.” Seoho said with a smile.

“What’s going on exactly?” Youngjo asked as he looked to the guard in question, Hwanwoong’s face stoic as he stood next to him

“Well, sire. There was a young woman who came to the gate, insisting that she knew the six of you and wanted to see you all. Naturally, we told her to leave. And if she had actual proof, then to provide it. That’s when she showed us a fan that was very clearly Prince Hwanwoong’s woodwork and Prince Leedo’s artwork. It looked specially made.” the guard said. The others all froze and quickly looked at one another. Hwanwoong very quickly got his hopes up as the guard opened the gate back up and exited with the princes.

The sound of the creaking hinges caught your attention as you turned around, fan hiding your face a little bit as the six princes followed the guard out as you stood there, slowly lowering the fan as you smiled at them. They all stood in shock.

“I’m back.” you said quietly. Keonhee, quickly and in a very non-princely manner, ran forward and hugged you.

“You’re here!” he proclaimed as the others broke their princely attitudes and quickly came forward, all talking happily. You smiled as you talked with them all happily, looking to see Hwanwoong hanging back. He looked close to tears as he looked at you in shock. The others caught on and Xion smiled softly. “Let’s all head inside and you and Hyung can talk.” he said softly and you smiled, nodding.

They all led you inside and you saw Leedo whispering to Hwanwoong. And you felt a pout form as he left the group. Leedo fell to walk next to you and smiled. “He’s just going to his room for a moment to compose himself. We didn’t know you’d be returning. You can meet him in the gardens.” he said in his low voice. You smiled up at him, given that he was so tall.

“Thank you, Leedo. I’ll see you all in a bit.” you said, parting from the princes who all were talking happily. They had greatly missed you, almost as much as Hwanwoong had. You walked quietly, the sound of the pond’s small waterfall in the garden reaching your ears as you arrived. By now, the moon had started to rise, but it was still very warm, being in the summer months. But there was a slight breeze that rustled the leaves of the trees. It was beautiful. This was your favorite place in the whole palace, besides Hwanwoong’s study as it always smelt of fresh wood shavings.

It was nearly silent besides the sounds of water and leaves. And that’s when you heard a pair of footsteps approach, making you turn to face the person. It was Hwanwoong. He still looked shaken and shocked as he approached you on the pathway that cut through the garden. He looked at you and didn’t know what to say. After a long year without you, what could he say? There was too much.

“I never thought you’d come back.” that’s what he was able to muster to come out. And even then, his voice was embarrassingly shaky.

“I honestly didn’t know if I would. Like I told you when I left the first time, I had a life to go back to. I wanted to reconnect with my family. Because seeing you with your brothers and your parents made me miss my own, so I went back and reached out.” you said and he nodded in understanding.

“Then why did you come back?” he questioned.

You sighed. “My parents passed away within a month of one another. And then my father’s sister whom I was very close to passed soon after. And then because of it all, my brother and I gree apart again. And just before I came here, the job I was working, they let me go. So I had nothing. Except the hope to come back here again. I didn’t want to spend another moment away from this place. Away from you.” you confessed. You didn’t miss how Hwanwoong’s ears went pink under his black hair. “But enough about my unfortunate life. How have you been since I last saw you?”

How should he answer this? He didn’t want to admit how many nights he stayed awake, longing for you. How desperate he was to have you by his side again. But he couldn’t help it. “I…was honestly just as miserable. But for other reasons.” you cocked your head to one side in confusion, but waited for him to continue. “Obviously, as you saw, my brothers are still in good health. My parents are traveling currently and are in good health as well. But…since you left. I have felt as if a part of my heart has been missing. Part of my soul. I have been…rather depressed since you left. I only wished for you to return and I didn’t even know if you would.”

Now it was your turn to blush. You and Hwanwoong both knew of your feelings for one another. But it had been too soon when you first met, not to mention you did have a life to go back to before. But now, the feelings you harbored for one another couldn’t be ignored. “You know. You could just say you missed me.” you said, smiling shyly and awkwardly. He couldn’t help but laugh softly.

“That is a more simplistic way of putting it, yes.” he said with a smile at you. And that smile blinded you. He was so radiant. You felt like the past year, even with reconnecting with your family, a dark rain cloud had been over you since you left. But now. Being here in the place that feels the most like home you’ve ever felt and with the man you know you want to spend the rest of your life with, it was like the sun had come again. And was right in front of you. “y/n. May I do something? It’s something I’ve wished to do ever since you left.” he asked and you nodded.

You didn’t expect what happened next. Your fan was folded and held in your right hand. And Hwanwoong gently wrapped his fingers around that wrist, sparks seeming to light up your skin where he ever so gently touched. You then felt yourself be pulled forward until you were practically chest to chest. And the next that happened was so cliche you could cringe. But it felt so right with Hwanwoong.

He kissed you. It was so gentle yet powerful in all the feelings behind it. And you found yourself kissing back readily. And just at that moment, an especially strong gust of wind knocked many cherry blossom petals free from their hold, causing them to flutter around the both of you. It was straight out of a drama you would watch back in your world. And straight out of a story that could be written in his. It felt so right, this storybook moment. And amongst the moonlight and falling cherry blossoms and the smell of shaven wood, this was a moment you two were writing together. You didn’t know what the rest of your story held. But you were ready to continue to turn the pages, excited for what this world held for the both of you.

taglist: @ddemonseonghwa @captainjoongiekissme

#hwanwoong oneus #ficscafe #underworldnet #hwanwoong fluff #hwanwoong au #hwanwoong x reader #hwanwoong fic #hwanwoong fanfiction #hwanwoong imagine #hwanwoong sfw #oneus fluff #oneus au #oneus x reader #oneus fic #oneus scenarios #y.hw

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tbznewberry · 4 years

Note

Oh yeah! Hahahah can i request a royalty era yandere oneus scenario (lit era basically hahahah) where they in love with a cute little maid?

You're ours | Oneus

Summary: the six princes take an interest in the maid

Genre: Prince Au, yandere

------------------------

The maid outfit was elegant, classy, not as bad as you thought it would be. Being a maid for the royal family was better than you thought as well, because the princes took care of you rather than you taking care of them.

"Sir, please", you said as he tried to help you with the cleaning. "You don't have to-"

"But what if I want to?" Keonhee asked. "Besides, you need a little help."

That was just the beginning.

—♤—

It went downhill every single day. They wanted to be close to you, coming up with stupid excuses just to be a part of your daily routine. The six princes didn't seem to understand that they weren't supposed to talk to you, let alone be close. Ravn wanted to feed you, you weren't eating enough according to him, Seoho insisted on giving you warmer clothes. You were too petite to keep warmth, Leedo wanted to come with you everywhere you went, scared that a staff would put their hands on you, Keonhee helped you with daily tasks, Hwanwoong told you jokes to keep you happy and Xion made sure that you got everything you needed, things like clothes and material to keep your job going.

You started to wonder why they treated you so differently, so you asked them. You expected them to blush and mutter out some bad excuses, but they didn't. They did the exact opposite.

"We love you", Hwanwoong said loud and clear.

You couldn't have misheard him, but there was a glitch in your system. Why? Just why? Why you?

"I don't understand", you admitted, feeling uneasy, almost dizzy.

"You're precious to us", Seoho added.

"No, more than that", Xion sighed, feeling irritated that they didn't go straight to the point. "You're ours."

You held yourself up by grabbing the drawer, but your legs felt week, wobbly. Right when they bent, Leedo hurried to grab you and hold his arm around your waist. Your vision started to go dark and blurry and the last you heard was Leedo's husky voice.

"I think the pills starts to kick in now."

#kpop yandere #kpop #oneus #oneus scenarios #oneus leedo #oneus hwanwoong

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sxcret-garden-archive · 4 years

Text

✧ Fic Recs ✧

As the title says, a little masterlist with some of my favourite fics by others and also some of my old fics I don’t wanna leave behind~

more ficrecs

✧ Ateez:

Midnight - Seonghwa | fluff

Like the Rain - Yunho | fluff, smut (by @yunhosluck)

Winter’s Cold - San | fluff

Our Summer - Yeosang | angst (one of my favourite fics, I love it ;; by @tentimesbetter)

✧ Got7:

Car + hard - Jaebeom | smut (by @flowerbeom)

My Giant - Jaebeom | fluff (I cried ok, by @tuanyiems)

“I’m rambling again, aren’t I?” - Mark | fluff, fake dating (I hope that was the prompt for it lmao, by @kpophours)

I Think I Love You - Jackson | fluff (by @sleepyseunie)

[5:32pm] - Jinyoung | angst (by @erodamoon)

02:23 - Yugyeom | smut (...sin....; by @poutytuans93)

Friends - Yugyeom | fluff (by @sleepyseunie)

“If you don’t hug me now, I think I might fall apart.” + “Sleep over? Please?” - Yugyeom | fluff (by @write-it-good-imagines)

Le Chocolatier - Yugyeom | fluff, smut, series (I’m reading this atm and HOLY F-, by @tuanyiems)

Show me - Yugyeom | smut (by @ahgaseda)

First Kisses - group | fluff (*dying noises*, by @haneybun123)

When they know they love you - group | reaction

You have a nightmare - group | reaction (by @flowerspecial)

✧ Oneus:

A Year Later - Seoho | fluff, smut

One Day at a Time - Leedo | angst, smut

“I need a place to stay.” - Keonhee | angst

✧ P1Harmony:

Present - Keeho | angst, comfort (by @tranquilpetrichor)

[10.26] - Theo | fluff (by @choitaeyang)

Burning Up - Jiung | angst, fluff (by @fairiiedust)

Falling in love with P1Harmony - group | fluff (by @dreamerhideout)

First Kiss - group | fluff (by @intakiya)

Their s/o asking for cuddles - group | fluff (I’m suddenly very soft;;,by @kpoppinandlockin)

✧ Pentagon:

Hangover - hyung line/maknae line | humor, reaction

What member should you fight | crack, this doesn’t even count as a fic but I want it here because it’s super funny kasdjfkas (by @pen1ag0n)

✧ Seventeen:

Teach Me - Seungkwan | fluff

✧ SF9:

Bracelet - Zuho | fluff (by @cherishtaengs)

Eyes - Zuho | fluff, suggestive (by @cherishtaengs)

Fireworks - Zuho | fluff (by @kpophours)

Be Gay, Do Crimes - Chani | fluff, crack (hands down one of my favourite fics ever, by @gamerwoo)

Ballroom dancing AU - group | misc (by @sanghyuks-fantasy)

Sweets Series - originally group but there’s only Youngbin’s, Inseong’s and Hwiyoung’s parts written | fluff

✧ The Boyz:

Sweetest Distraction - Kevin | fluff (by @tbzhours)

✧ Victon:

Midnight - Sejun | fluff, smut, royality AU (out of my own fics probably one of my all-time faves)

Home - Hanse | fluff, smut (by @nomsejun)

7 Minutes in Heaven - group | fluff, (suggestive), series

Their s/o poking their dimple/cheek - group | reaction (by @fairychannie)

#ficrecs #for the fics that don't have the creator tagged and aren't mine the original blog seems to have been deleted ><

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moondustaeil · 4 years

Text

anaphora ⧜ nakamoto yuta

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ✧☾.·:·. a n a p h o r a

⠀ ⠀⠀ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ

⁖ genre : royalty au - fluff , angst , very light suggestive content

⁖ pairing : yuta x reader (both royals)

⁖ word count : 15k

⁖ warning : badmouthing , light suggestive content , attempted thievery , family drama , mentions of a forbidden relationship , broken kingdoms , character deaths , poisoning , toxic plants , based on oneus’ performance of “be mine” in road to kingdom

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀

⠀ ⠀⠀ ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ

⁖ Rather than living without your love, Yuta would prefer to die out of hatred. Once at a banquet the man you were willing to devote yourself to but due the split of the kingdoms, you can no longer promise forever to him like you did that night under the moonlight in the conservatory.

〚 I ; ūnus 〛

"This might be the death of fashion diplomacy, look at that attire," A woman of somewhere at the end of her forties interrupts Yuta's path. It isn't physically that she interrupts him, but his footsteps halt as soon as he hears the words. The two silver chains that circle from his left shoulder to the right side of his waist soundlessly move along as he turns his body back.

He looks straight into her eyes, his head cocking to the side as he wants to confront her in the sweetest way possible. Revenge is on the tip of his tongue but the guard could be quick to snatch the symbolic entrance ticket from between his fingers if he caused a stir.

"Are you talking about me?" He decides to ask her, letting go of his lower lip to flash her a smile. His smile nearly shines as bright as the glittering silver parallel-running lines upon his black blazer. But his smile doesn't catch as much attention as his outfit does, and yet, he doesn't feel ashamed about his attire.

"If you feel addressed then it must be about you, right?" She asks in return, her lips curling until she's able to imitate his smile. While he looks for revenge, she just tries to overpower him with the sugary sweet and yet snarky comments. Yuta can't help but hum in approval "I guess that's accurate, you have a point there."

He isn't afraid to show how she has a point because after all, he feels like he won even though the minuscule passage of words wasn't part of a contest. "Now, I would like to talk about having an excellent sense of fashion all night but seems like I should not waste time on people who don't have such things from the start," he shrugs his shoulders to hide the prideful words that slip from his lips. After giving her attire one last shameless glance, he turns on his heel and walks away from her.

Somewhere in the distance people are either way spreading their half-opinionated gossip or looking at him like he just killed an evil authority. Whether it's a good or bad thing isn't something that bothers Yuta, his footsteps don't get any heavier as he steps between the crowd on his own.

The potion has been stirred but not enough for his entrance ticket to be snatched away, yet enough for his father to walk up to him with disappointed eyes.

"What was that about?" His father asks in a quiet shout, pulling Yuta by the tight cupp of his puffed blazer. Merely by the button as the fabric is tightly resting around his wrist, too tight for his father to hook his fingers on the inside of it. "Nothing, she was just inquiring about my outfit," Yuta answers simply.

It's not hard to pull from the barely-existing grip, the undamaged button rests against the cupp again. "You know these sorts of people, you are supposed to nod your head and agree to all they want you to agree on, understood?" His father starts the real lecture in the middle of the crowd-filled room. Watched or not watched, Yuta has no care for it, and apparently, his father doesn't mind giving free lectures.

"Said no one, father. Jaehyun, Mark, or any of the others don't want to be treated like this either and they are in a way higher position than that twat," He tells his father but is aware of the answer that he will receive to his words, of course, he will get the response that he's not supposed to involve his stupid friends in serious matters like this. "Do I need to remind you that Jaehyun, or Yoonoh as you should say, nearly lost his position when he shared the sheets with a lady he had never seen before?"

Yuta clenches his thumb between his balled fist, creating the cracking sound as he only grows more assertive when hearing the words. "Oh father, please stop believing human newspapers, they're no good ass wipers," he mentions lightly but the consequences aren't as smooth as his words are.

He's willing to get scolded for protecting one of his friends: yes Jeong Jaehyun nearly lost his position when he shared the sheets with a woman. But added to the false story should be the truth, that Jaehyun had been sharing a secret life with the woman for more than half a year. The scandal was only a scandal because the woman was just an inhabitant who didn't occupy herself with kingdoms, authorities or wealthy cowards.

"This is the first and last thing I am hearing from you today, Yuta, if I hear one more thing, you can forget coming to events like this."

Yuta just carelessly nods his head before he walks away from his father, not caring whether the words would come true or not. He doesn't see why he would need to attend banquets, balls or any other formalities: it only cost him time and money as his outfits weren't exactly bought on a weekly market, neither were his exact body sizes measured by a randomly generated number.

"As if I care," he mumbles as soon as he is far enough from his father, he wouldn't have minded if his father heard the words but still protected the last bit of image that he had left. His footsteps were slow but not slow enough to match the still ones of everyone around him: curious ladies that were staring at him with either distrust or lust, men that tried to keep their wives from starting a vicious circle of rumours. Yuta pushes his body through the empty space that everyone left for him until he is standing near one of the large windows.

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

Yuta grasps his cake fork between his thumb and index finger as soon as a plate with a large piece of cake is presented to him. He's about to dig in and scoop the point of the cake onto his fork but the voice of the person next to him momentarily stops him from doing so.

"Did any of you hear something about marriage already?" Mark Lee asks out loud to everyone who is sitting on the same part of the table as him, obviously, he only finds himself around people of the same age with a few years minus or plus that is. Yuta expects Jaehyun to let out a quiet huff but realises his friend isn't there to complain about the matter of a wedding. Yet, enough people around him are willing to take over.

"My parents are trying to find me a partner, it almost seems like one of those contests of who the most beautiful person is but only if they're rich enough," Mark answers his own question before anyone else can, clearly he just needs someone to listen to him even though no one can fix his situation.

Opposite of Yuta is the eldest of the group, Moon Taeil. As relaxed as Taeil is, there is also a part of him that values tradition and rules over anything else. Perhaps he doesn't follow them as much as Doyoung does, but as he's the eldest, people are more likely to listen to him than to Doyoung. "It's the way it is, we all have to get married someday soon."

"Well it's you who should go first then, you're the oldest here," Yuta says in a teasing way to rub the fact in a little more, he knows it wouldn't affect Taeil because Taeil follows his tradition and has been preparing himself for the important moment to come. "I will," Taeil answers simply, it's simple but seemingly a hidden message hides behind the words.

Yuta glances at Mark who started the talk about marriage but didn't find relief as no one really picked up on his words with a sense of empathy. He doesn't really feel bad for his friend, with the simple reason that he has to undergo the same, and probably even earlier than Mark does.

"What about you y/n?" Taeil asks you as he drifts away from his group of friends for a little moment, not that you're not a part of his friend group, you simply never informally met Yuta or Mark which was why he decided to try and involve you in their conversation right now. You were listening anyway so it might be a good moment to bring you into his group of friends.

"My parents truly organised this for me to possibly find a fiance but instead of allowing me to talk to possible candidates, they claim me," you explained to Taeil with a soft sigh leaving your lips. You had no idea whether you sighed because you were forced to find a future husband or because your parents had claimed you until the moment you were seated at the table.

Taeil nods in response as he is actively listening to what you're saying, yet, Yuta can't help but let out a soft snort as he is amused by your story. Not because you're the starring role in the confusing wishes of your parents, but because parents will always be parents. "That's what all parents do. If you didn't see earlier, my father still tries to grab me by the sleeve like I'm a little boy who is about to cross a busy street," he tells you and the rest of the group.

The words make everyone want to change the subject to what happened earlier, a little moment everyone had seen: Taeil had seen it even if he only made his entrance at that moment, Mark had been able to see it whilst conversing with some wealthy people and you had seen it from your position as your parents lectured you about who was going to be present at the banquet.

"Yeah that was a wild scenario, man," Mark says as he can't help but think back, it's nothing unfamiliar as he had seen Yuta with his father before. Yuta was just too free-spirited to always listen and obey to everything that others tell him and he's not afraid to make a scene out of it.

"All because some lady made fun of my attire. She called it the death of fashion or something," Yuta says as he once again snorts at the short memory of the gossip he heard barely a couple of minutes after making his entrance. He would admit he was salty about it but didn't think about it longer than five seconds as it wasn't important.

You can't help but look at Yuta as he's saying the words: first you start at the features of his face but the moment he mentions his attire, you can't help but stare at his upper body. The black blazer has puffed sleeves that tighten around his wrist and is decorated with parallel silver glittering lines, then there is a chain that splits in two as it goes from his shoulder to his waist, to finish the outfit there are some silver bands that coat his left upper arm and shoulder. It's more than a handful and you're sure that there is more that you're not seeing.

"It looks very unique," you say about his outfit and smile slightly at your own words, you're being genuine as his outfit looks like something you never saw before. Even though he got bashed for the attire he's wearing, it makes him look more expensive than anyone else in the big room. The lace on the long dresses, the fake fur on the men's clothing, they don't compare to glittering lines on Yuta's blazer.

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

"Get home well"

You wave your hand to Taeil as he leaves the location, you're aware that he can't see what you're doing because it's too dark outside, but you still feel like saying goodbye to him in some way. Next to you is Yuta who made the excuse that he needed some fresh air just so that he could say goodbye to his friends and stay around you for a little bit longer. It didn't look like his father was leaving anytime soon which is why he took the chance to escape for as long as he could.

"So have you found your future husband?" Yuta inquires curiously as he stands next to you, waving his hand at Taeil just like you did despite also realising it wouldn't be shown in the dark. Soon his eyes go to you as he sees you shaking your head from the corner of his eye "I don't think I did. I'm not planning on marrying Taeil, I've known him for so long," you say honestly.

"What about Mark?" Yuta asks, giving you the option to admit if you found someone to your liking. Even though you said you didn't but Yuta just wants to know for sure before he continues to talk to you and perhaps flirt with you a little bit more than he did already.

"Nice but not as my brother, he seems like a little brother."

Yuta can't help but laugh out loud to your words because he felt the exact way. He wasn't ever going to marry Mark but did see Mark as his little brother more than anything else: there was just something about him that made him the perfect little brother compared to real little siblings.

"Sounds like I'm the last candidate then," he says in a joking tone as the two of you start taking awfully slow steps in no particular direction. It's automatically that your feet take steps without your mind wondering where your feet are wandering off to.

You softly laugh along to his words for a few seconds, letting your laugh fade out when your mind tries to see an image of you getting married to Nakamoto Yuta. He's attractive and perhaps he's from a family that your family would appreciate, but the man himself is something people would be against.

"Sounds like it," you respond finally as you stare ahead and notice the conservatory coming into view. It's not an unfamiliar place but it's not like you find yourself there on a daily basis. Still, right now it seems like a fitting space to walk to together with Yuta.

Yuta can't help but smile at your words even if he doesn't see himself getting married anytime soon, perhaps in a few years when he feels ready to settle down, especially knowing marriage must also mean starting a family. "Did you expect to find a future husband tonight?" he asks curiously as he sees where you're going and mindlessly allows his footsteps to imitate yours.

"Far from yes," you answer his question as honest as you can, still staring ahead of you towards the conservatory. It's not a long walk but you're anticipating the moment you can open the door and explore the greenery in the darkness together with Yuta. Both of you seem to need some minutes away from the heavily decorated banquet, and now that dessert had been eaten, there were plenty of chances to sneak away. "How about you? Your parents must be looking to find you a spouse too?"

Yuta hums in approval, signalling that you're absolutely right when you assume that. "They don't force me but obviously try to stimulate me into finding someone to marry but how will I ever love someone that only meets up to their requirements but not mine?"

"You don't. We don't marry out of love, my parents were kind enough to at least tell me the truth about that"

Your words open a new dimension for Yuta, just like the door to the greenhouse is opened before the two of you walk inside. It's pure darkness and yet your eyes can easily recognise the different shades of green and the forms of leaves and other plants.

"Your parents might be right about that," Yuta admits as he walks behind you, giving the greenery a brief look before he tries to follow your figure with his eyes. He is very interested in nature and would love to go on endless walks and hikes in unexplored green masterpieces, but right now, his attention shifts to you.

Minding your steps to not accidentally step on a plant, you make your path through the greenhouse to the place where you usually take a seat to be away from everyone and everything. But being in the darkness, the path doesn't seem clear enough to walk on without accidentally hurting a fallen leaf.

The sound your feet make when they come in contact with greenery is the only thing that keeps the silence from comfortably walking between the two of you, there's distance enough for it to sneak in and almost third-wheel unnoticed.

Your steps align once you see the carved marble bench right in front of you, empty like each time you come to this place, though this time both spots on it will be occupied. On the seat of the bench is a carved satyr but you can't make out the little details since only darkness flows through the glass roofing.

"Let's sit for a bit," you suggest as you sit on the side that you automatically always take, leaving the other spot free for your companion, Yuta. Yuta does as you suggest and immediately plants himself on the cold bench next to you, his eyes staring at the window that can only show him the darkness of the outside world.

"Is this where you take party victims?" He playfully asks you as he turns his gaze to you instead, watching as your eyes are on the same spot that he was looking at seconds ago, not that there is much to see as the night seems close to an unrecognisable shade of black. Before you laugh, he observes how your mouth lightly parts before the sound escapes.

"If I can be a victim as well then you could say I take party victims here," you tell him after your soft laugh dies down against the air. Yuta's own laugh of slight amusement dies soon after yours even if it threatens to stay for a bit longer because of your confession.

It's not funny but without laughter, the oxygen-filled air would feel as heavy as it was in reality and right now both of you prefer to keep it light in the greenery-filled glasshouse.

"I'll be one of your victims, you should invite me more."

〚 II ; duo 〛

Yuta's boot-clad feet skillfully avoid the fallen leaves on the ground as he walks into the greenhouse, even though it's his third or even fourth time, he's not accustomed to the path he has to follow just yet. Luckily the ground already drew out the path by decarmating the stones that led him towards the bench.

The bench is still empty when he arrives and he takes that as an opportunity to explore a little further in the maze of greenery. Even though he follows the laid out ground, he doesn't exactly follow any path, his eyes are fixated on his surroundings as he walks.

Even though the endless windows lock him up in the glasshouse, he feels like he is taking a stroll in nature. A place that is yet to be discovered by some, a place where he doesn't have to remind himself of his manners towards the wealthy and treasured of the country.

The greenery greets him without words which is quite something else compared to the endless badmouthing that ordinarily happens when he walks into the ballroom of an overly decorated event. The plants don't have critical feedback on his attire, his manners, his slightly longer hair, his personality or his wealth. Yet, the plants are alive and growing, just like most humans.

Some more living examples of people that do not badmouth are you and his small group of close friends. His friends for starters don't act as wealthy as they truly are and he's grateful that they don't act like that, they are just normal like any human that walks through the streets. Then there is you, who never judges him and listens to the many things he wants to tell while also trying to have a good time at the same time. Does that mean he appreciates you more than just an acquaintance?

The answer to the question he speechlessly asks himself is probably yes, you would use the words 'far from no' to answer the question because you seem to like giving that response more than just a yes or no. Perhaps he sees you as more than an acquaintance, even more than friends: his feelings for you are in bloom just like some of the flowers in this greenhouse.

Having those feelings means that he no longer wants you to find a spouse, neither does he want his parents to find one for him. Independency led to this moment, where he can make his own choices in his lifeline and end up with the one he might just truly love. Yet, what holds him back is that he has never been in love before, doesn't have any knowledge as he never saw the genuine love between two people, and he simply has no faint idea of what he wants to achieve in the future.

"I'm sorry I kept you waiting so long, my parents suddenly decided it was a good idea if they educated me on trading materials."

Your voice makes Yuta look up from the point that he was staring at, he doesn't have a clue what point he's exactly staring at and before he's about to find out, his body is already spun towards you.

"Hello," He greets you with a smile, ignoring your previous words because he simply did not hear them while being one with his thoughts. His eyes greet you as well: without judging going from your facial features to the outfit that you're wearing to cover your skin. The colour of your attire compliments you: midnight blue might just become his new preferred colour if you continue to look as magical in it.

"You didn't get lost whilst waiting for me right?" you ask with a smile on your lips as you let your eyes move in the same circle that a clock makes, just to get familiar with the greenery around both of you, perhaps it could explain what Yuta was staring at for as long as you had been watching him from a not-so-far distance.

Yuta shakes his head in response and slowly walks up to you "no, of course not. I stopped by the bench not long ago but seeing you were not there yet, I decided to explore a little," he explains even though there is no need for him to do so. You don't seem enraged by his exploration so you probably don't mind it when he lets his eyes wander and his feet explore.

"We can walk around here some more if you would like, there is much more greenery than you see now. Perhaps we could even water some of the plants together, even if it's unexciting," you suggest and smile at your own idea. It reminds you of a date even though it's not much different from sitting on the bench: after all, it's the same location and there hasn't been a confirmation that this was a date. "I would really like that," Yuta answers.

Before you are able to take off on your own, Yuta takes initiative to link your arms together as you walk. You're surprised by the sudden display of affection as you are aware that only those who are lovers are known to hold one another like that. It's a large step in the outing of affection but neither of you try to separate your arms from one another.

"So I assume you enjoy nature," You say to Yuta, not using a questioning tone despite your will to find out if he actually enjoys nature as much as he seems to, after all, who would agree to meet up in a greenhouse time after time without complaining about the green-coloured surroundings or scent of blooming flowers. Yuta briefly nods in response to your words, a smile coating his lips but you're too busy staring ahead of you to notice. "I love nature, nature compares to freedom for me. No one judges but everyone listens."

His explanation is what makes you look at him, there is no questioning look in your eyes as you seem to understand without further explanation. "Because nature is alive too," you say as you partially agree to his words. There aren't many opportunities for you to discover nature unless it's in the greenhouse, but you can imagine the feeling of walking on an undiscovered land, only filled with grass and large trees of which leaves slowly dwindle to the ground.

"precisely."

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

The quiet whispers of the wind easily dwindle down the glass walls that kept you from truly experiencing freedom. Despite not being able to feel an unlimited amount of freedom: the wind wasn't present to disturb the small stream of water that collapsed on the tightly-patted loam.

"Do you ever receive flower bouquets?"

It is a question that should not make you flabbergasted because the never-ending supply of flower bouquets that you're given are no longer gifts that take you by surprise. Yet, rather than to be given a bouquet, Yuta is thoughtful enough to ask whether you ever receive them before he sets up his plan.

"I do," you answer his question simply. You don't say it to brag or for his plans to fall in the pond, but for the reason that you do get a lot of them. Every person that visits the gigantic place you call home takes at least one flower along, handing it over to you whilst pride reflects from their eyes onto yours. But your eyes don't resemble a mirror: they shine with a dull glow as you thank them for the friendly gesture but internally scold them.

"And?" Yuta asks as he looks over at you whilst you water the following plant, his grip tightening around the gardening tool that you pushed into his hand before starting to do a task that wasn't yours. "And that is it. Why would I need a bouquet of flowers that will wither merely a week after its been given?" You reason.

"As well as how this conservatory consisting mostly of flowers and other sorts of greenery? Because they don't wither as rapidly as the ones you receive?"

The questioning undertone in Yuta's voice momentarily makes you suspect if you are obligated to answer with yes or no to either of the times he used it. Momentarily truly lasts momentarily, the moment you find out he has been looking at you, you realise he was only trying to complete the answer to your question before you had to do the effort.

"Precisely."

You smile once the word leaves your lips, even if you contemplated him just a few seconds ago, you can't help but think of yourself as an idiot who nearly misinterpreted the words. Luckily you watered the symbolic flower before its petals started to dwindle down from the disk.

"But you still enjoy flowers?" Yuta asks curiously as he watches how you finish off watering every plant that comes in your reach. The endless refills of water make it possible for the flowers to bloom or for Yuta to stay by your side a little longer.

You nod your head in confirmation before giving him a brief but suitable statement. "I do, I just dislike like receiving them as a gift. Specifically when they are just an excuse to not come empty-handed."

Yuta senses how honest you are when you say the words, it's not only that as he understands what you mean from experience. It was impolite to request someone's company and not have anything in return, to the most when it was about a possible romantic encounter.

"Now I know that I should not bring flowers with me next time," he eventually answers but the smile is evident in his voice, but even more on his lips. They're curved upwards from nerves as he awaits your response.

"I won't accept any gifts from you, Yuta. I have warned you and I expect you to remember for as long as you're able to," you order Yuta in a rather playful manner. You meant the words, they were genuine despite the playful hue in them but you weren't able to give him a scolding for something that didn't occur yet.

"What if I accidentally forget?" He asks you in the same playful way, wanting to continue the conversation so that he could see your reaction. He didn't know what reaction to expect, there was a wide variety of emotions you could display in response. Soon it was proven to be his lucky day when a smile made its way onto your lips at his words. You shook your head in disbelief "perhaps it is time for me to find a new love interest in that case, and my mother will have a lovely flower bouquet to make my father jealous with."

"Love interest?"

Yuta's lips can't take control, allow him to slip out the words that laid on the tip of his tongue. By the way his eyes are widened, you can see that he is astonished. "Love interest," he repeats again: this time not to question you but to test how the words sound when he's saying them out loud.

You love the way the mixture of letters leaves his lips, you love the two words that you have been able to use for personal preference for the first time in your life. The way Yuta says them only makes them sound better, when he says them, it almost makes you believe he feels the same way about you without officially confessing.

"In that case, I shall not forget, you will not be receiving any flower bouquets from me," Yuta finally answers even though it should have been you who completed the cycle of feedback. Your first – and genuine – reaction is a smile that graces your lips from one minute into the other. From his words, you could dissect that he would have a fancy for being your love interest, or so you thought that was what he meant.

Briefly, you glance at Yuta before looking towards the large windows that lock you up in the glasshouse. Yuta is quick to follow your gaze towards the outside world: his eyes following the direction of the tree twigs that get swayed along with the wind. "Is there something else you could offer me, you know, to compensate for the flowers?"

Your words make Yuta laugh soft, his breath almost simultaneously blowing like the wind does outside the window. "What would you fancy?" He asks you even though he knows you are kidding. It became clear before that you don't waste words on people who bring you gifts in return for a bit of your attention.

"Anything you are willing to offer," you begin as you bend down to put down the watering can, leaving it on the ground before you stand up to face Yuta again. The smile that you carry on your lips the moment you look at Yuta gets reflected to his. "What do you think about love?" He asks you as the smile minimizes a little bit when his lips move to speak but that doesn't make it less impactful.

You freeze momentarily when you hear the suggestion, along with your body, your mind also takes a halt for a couple of seconds. Your ears correctly heard the question, as did your mind process the words before going in short lockdown. "I would enjoy that," you murmur whilst slowly dragging yourself back into reality.

A soft embrace around your hand instantly pulls you back into the real world, the hand closes around yours and keeps a gentle grip on it. "I will be looking forward to it," Yuta says as he gives your hand a little squeeze, immediately gaining your nod-filled reaction.

"Me too, Yuta."

〚 III ; trēs 〛

Hundreds of questions collect on your tongue as tastebuds: when one disappears, it simply gets replaced by a new one. Their flavours are dissimilar: some taste bitter, others taste free, and on the tip are many fear-tasting buds.

"How do you know they will walk by without seeing us?"

Yuta can only let out a soft laugh at the sixth question that slips from your tastebuds onto your moving lips. It's an adorable and wholesome sight to see so you worried, he misses the realisation how either of you two must be aware of the risks this takes along.

"It is very early, y/n. Most people out on this hour are on their way for duties and the children won't be able to catch who we are," Yuta tries to ease your uneasiness. The fine line between freedom and getting caught is what your feet seem to be walking on rather than the neatly stoned ground.

In response to his words, you nod, but the anxiety only grows with every step taken towards the civil world. "People on their way might still see us," you say in a complaining tone even though you only try to make Yuta see it in the way you see it. He has done this countless times whilst you rarely came here, and if you did, then it was not supposed to be a casual stroll with your love interest. "They are always rushing, they don't have time to look for people like us before they have to do their daily tasks."

You believe his words as this time, the little bundle of nerves in your stomach disappears but another knot is waiting in queue to get untied. "That must be true," you admit silently before staring at the barely-filled street in front of you. People like you and Yuta aren't as customised to a regular life, hence the reason why you still fear running into people at 7 am. But Yuta seems to know the case well and you can only make up from that, that he does these things more often than you know.

"How often do you come here?" You ask him upon realising how he also seems to know which way he has to take. It's obviously something people habituated here should know but you are still unfamiliar with the little alleys between buildings, unlike Yuta who took your hand and pulled you along, reaching the destination in a shorter amount of time than you estimated. "Maybe weekly, usually I come here at night to take a stroll. People sometimes get drunk so there will not be evidence if they catch me walking," he reasons.

Before a soft response in the shape of a sigh escapes your lips, you purse them together and opt to consider your words. The way Yuta mentions people and getting caught brings a high wave of anxiety to your stomach: the wild sea almost reaching to your heart. "So you did get caught?" your question stays unanswered for the first few seconds and once you look over at Yuta, you notice that he seems to be heavily considering his next move. "Someone saw me but as there has been so much gossip and the man was drunk, no one really believed his story."

This time you opt to not respond at all, you don't even have to purse your lips in order to stay quiet. You try to understand the prequel of the situation you find yourself in: allowing your love to bloom in another place than the greenhouse but the unwritten sequel might not be filled with blooming or freedom. You have to do things differently in the present in order to change the future but you don't take that opportunity. You only hold Yuta's hand tighter as your feet are aligned with his with each step you take further into the homeworld of humanity.

"It is a good thing to escape from the greenhouse for a bit. It doesn't give you the freedom you need even if you think it does," Yuta says. He notices you've gone completely mute by now, purposely not speaking because you are distrustful towards him or the surroundings. You nod your head as you're aware: you act like the greenhouse gives you an immeasurable amount of freedom but still, you find yourself between four walls that keep you secured in place.

"I am aware," you tell Yuta. Subjectively, it sounds like a way to make him stop talking because you're only getting more stressed but from the objective perspective, you're only answering to his previous words. Just like roses naturally grow thorns, you naturally grew the thought that you will never experience true freedom because even in this situation, you feel far from free.

"Shall we continue our walk? It looks beautiful so far."

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

Inquisitive thinking such as exploration, investigation, and learning. It can be observed by anyone who is able to keep an eye on you despite Yuta making it clear that you were safe from the eye of the public. Your urge to explore and investigate could easily be called: curiosity. It's not something you can be blamed for because even Yuta is still curious about the real outside world after coming here on a weekly basis. You are not only curious about what the eye meets but also things you cannot observe: like the inhabitants that must lead their lives in this area or how it must feel to be able to lead a life in this context. Houses aren't overly large and there seems to be a lack of space due to the buildings not having gaps between one another.

Every couple of minutes you have been able to quietly observe as people passed by. You stared at them and wondered what it was like to randomly walk over the street and not tease a future drama about it. Luckily for you, you don't think people saw you staring at them which hopefully also meant that they didn't see you at all.

"Are you hungry? You must be, we left so early you probably didn't get breakfast served yet. Am I right?" Yuta asks you as soon as the street once again is empty enough for his regular voice to come through. Normally he could not care less about it but knowing you are a bit uneasy with the entire situation, he pours some water into the wine to make it taste less bitter.

Your eyes scan around before you choose to reply to his words with a small hum. You are quite hopeful to think that the end of your adventure is near but that story seems to unfold itself differently. "We should get some bread by the bakery," he carelessly suggests. With those words being said, you're left more than speechless. Do you want to decline? Yes, you do, but you dismiss the words and your heap of thoughts. Perhaps if you don't respond, you won't get food and Yuta will take the hint.

"How about that, y/n?"

Internally you use foul language to express your feelings but those words don't come to an official outing because it would be highly impolite. "How about what?" you ask him even though you know what he is asking you about, and acting like you didn't hear what he said might just give you an extra few seconds to decide whether that's a good idea or not. "How about getting bread at the bakery?" he repeats his words from before in a slightly different hue but they still mean the same.

"We can't do that, Yuta," you tell him before you're able to stop your mouth from opening. The sigh that leaves your lips once the words had escaped was one you had been keeping in for a couple of minutes too long: it's a long one that draws out the feelings you've been silently experiencing.

"Why not?" Yuta asks as he tries to discreetly point towards one of the buildings that you already passed by, a bakery where you could smell fresh bread and other related pastries but had passed by without giving it a glance as the owner stood outside of his shop to promote mouth-to-mouth. "The bakery is right there, we can just get some bread and eat it before I bring you home again."

"For starters, we did not bring any money to hand the man and I would still like to keep it quiet that we are here," you tell Yuta just in case he forgot the obvious. There are some extra excuses you could come up with but that would make things only less believable when the truth already escaped from your parted lips. "How did you want to get bread?" You ask as you await to hear his plan. With that, you only confuse yourself more: first, you decline his idea before you ask how he was planning on doing it. Were you just tolerable because Yuta and you shared a little more than just hand-holding?

"Either of us can distract him," Yuta simply stated, his fabric-covered shoulders moving up and down in a matter of seconds as he shrugged. The plan was clear in his head but the words made you only more confused. He noticed the look on your face and leaned closer to your face, his face tilting as he moved forward a bit more to speak to you. "And the other one can just take the bread."

Two reactions occur at the same time: either way you widen your eyes and at the same time, you shake your head rapidly. The ridiculous idea leaves you to have a moment of distrust in Yuta.

"Absolutely not, we're not going to steal. You can eat along with us tonight," you say instantly before you are able to process that it is not close to dinnertime. Though they would still serve you food if you asked for it. "Where did you even get that idea?" you ask as you stop your feet abruptly and turn your body towards Yuta.

Even though the regret kicks in, he doesn't back away and turns his body towards yours. A scolding is what he expects, perhaps because his parents would even be capable of killing him if they knew he suggested stealing from a baker.

He sighs and brings his left hand up to rub over his face, his fingertips harshly pressing against his skin and cheekbones. "Sorry," he apologises to you, wrapping his mind around the reality of the situation. He never stole anything before and suddenly he suggests stealing some fresh bread, something he did with a blank mind despite the setup he made a few seconds prior to telling you.

"It should be time to head back," you change the subject in order to once more buy more time for yourself. You try not to be judgemental because you know Yuta well enough by now: he's not the average wealthy man that you meet at a banquet. He's the rebellious young man that intrigues you and pulls you into his world. There don't seem to be risks in his life and if there are then he simply ignores the possible consequences: it doesn't give a great first impression but is like the sweetest song, sung by angels and it only pulls you in more.

The way back is filled with silence even though the surroundings seem extra loud, it's just the silence that makes the rest increase in volume. There's only one commonly shared word now that you're on the way back: it's Yuta who has his one-end conversation of saying "sorry." but you opt to give a soft breath and silence as a response.

Instead of Yuta dragging you along like earlier in the morning, it's you who marches towards your home. Yuta follows behind you, his fingers twitching now that he's unable to hold onto your hand. His eyes meet with the ground many times as he fears to see you going up the steps and inside without saying your goodbye to him.

Upon the ground and through the grass, his feet walk on the exact same spots that you walk but in relay. One little glance up and he notices that your property is already under his feet but you're not marching towards the home, instead, you're leading him towards the greenhouse. It makes him want to smile but he's unable to, his lips form in a thin line as he perplexes himself with the many different emotions.

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

"Why did you suggest stealing the bread?"

The question doesn't catch Yuta off guard as he expected it sooner or later but at the same time, he's at a loss for words and doesn't know which excuse would be accepted. No excuse should be accepted and he's aware of that: which is why he stays silent and considers his words for a decent amount of time. You're not impatient, even kind enough to give him time to reflect on himself. In the meantime, you keep yourself busy organising some of the gardening tools: that way the workers don't have to put effort into it and you have some wasted time that goes by just a little faster than when you're not doing anything.

"I don't know, I really don't know. But I regret even thinking about it or imagining it," Yuta tells you as an answer, you could tell he genuinely thought but ended up concluding nothing because it perhaps was something that happened without him realising. His fingertips trace over the carved Satyr on the bench, it feels empty enough without you sitting next to him.

He eyes you as you are busy organising different tools, it's no use but you still do so. "I hope you are being truthful," you mumble as you drop the pair of gardening gloves next to the other materials before looking at him. Still, you don't look with judging eyes but you try to look through the facade to see whether he is truthful. You ask yourself whether you doubt him or not: you didn't doubt his truthfulness but his intention of stealing the bread. A selfish thought in your head tells you he wanted to steal it so that you could be fed, and it's a good assumption but you try not to fall for your misleading mind.

"I mean it y/n, I truly don't know"

There's no such thing as a correct answer in this given context but you're willing to take the answer because you trust Yuta and he sounds genuine when he says that he doesn't know. You wish you could hear a proper set of words but you could also wish that the situation hadn't occurred at all: that would be a much better wish to make. But there was no genie to grant your wishes, especially not when the situation already passed by.

"I'm sorry," Yuta says when he thinks you're not going to grant him forgiveness. You are so quiet that Yuta can't help but drown in guilt whilst you are watching from afar.

The seconds continue to tick by, they seem to get lengthier as you don't immediately respond to the apology. Eventually, you have no other option than to give him an honest response. "It's not me that deserves an apology."

Yuta nods as a signal he understands what you mean, he should be apologising to the baker for the things that almost happened. "I know," he murmurs in an almost inaudible tone, his eyes on the bench on which his fingertips endlessly trace over the carved figures.

After letting out a sigh that withheld mixed emotions, you sat down on the bench next to Yuta. In the end, you decide to forgive him because you can't blame him for things that didn't happen yet. "We should indeed buy some bread there next time, the scent was heavenly," you say with a small smile on your lips as you rest your hand upon Yuta's shoulder. Slowly, you let that hand creep up to his hair to gently comb through the locks.

"It did and I knew we were both hungry," he starts his reply, relaxation slowly dawns on him as he feels your gentle touch through his hair. It nearly makes him miss the moral of your words, nearly. "Did you say next time? Do you want to go there again?"

You smile once his realisation comes, or perhaps because you think back about the good time you had despite the anxious feeling and Yuta's dumb mistake. "I do, I enjoyed it. Not weekly but perhaps every once in a while," you say honestly.

The freedom you felt outside seemed unreal: there had been moments where anxiety filled your body to the brim but at the same time, looking at the world whilst walking around in it was positively different from looking at it through large windows.

Your hand slips from Yuta's brown locks when he turns his head towards you. "I think I am in love," he whispers a second after you look back at him, your head tilted to see his healing smile from a different point of view.

"With me?" You question hopefully as you feel bumblebees buzzing in your stomach, the sweet honey nearly edible on the tip of your tongue. A laugh falls from Yuta's lips but he rapidly reacts by nodding his head "of course with you, there has been one person that makes my heart swell. And that person is you," he explains, his eyes widening slightly as he confesses his romantic attachment to you.

There is a quiet second, interrupted by a sound of surprise aligned with Yuta's laughter. By your reaction, Yuta senses that you feel the same and is quick to make his next move. He inches himself closer to you before placing an unexpected and soft peck against your lips. Before you have the opportunity to return the kiss, your lips are distanced and smiles are unconsciously appearing.

"I might just be in love with you too."

〚 IV ; quattuor 〛

"Were you aware that the moonlight changes every day?"

Your head that has been tilted upwards towards the glass roofing slowly lowers itself for you to properly look at Yuta as he speaks. In response, you shake your head and twitch your fingers subconsciously as a sign for him to explain his random particle of information.

"The intensity of moonlight varies greatly, as stated, it depends on the lunar phase," Yuta explains to you as he notices your light motion and the interest on your face. You continue to look at him as he speaks, together with nodding, those two things make it obvious that you are listening actively to every word he says.

"Does it not depend on our eyes as well?" You ask as you silently wondered about it when he was speaking. You think your eyes are not always prepared to see the same amounts of light: especially not very bright hues. Yuta shows the same interest that you showed him not long ago and nods his head when you finish your question "hm, I think it does."

After that, a moment of silence settles down. Both of you occupied by the subject of moonlight and its daily-changing intensity. To speak honestly, there is no need to ponder about it for much longer, and yet, you two seem silently captivated by the subject. Perhaps because the moonlight is currently bringing a hint of its brightness into the nightfall.

You are the first one to break the silence because you feel how your head automatically moves upwards to look at the source of light and the acquaintance of darkness in the sky. "The moon is so beautiful," is what you tell Yuta who can't help but hum in agreement. His mind is only partially on the moon, as are his eyes because other things steal his attention.

"It is, sometimes I watch the moon from my room but watching it here makes it so much more pleasant," he answers as he not-so-gently throws his head back to look through the glass roof. The moon might be pulchritudinous but the true beauty comes from you. Yet, his words aren't complete nonsense. He watches the moon when he is alone in his room but while doing so, he thinks about you which makes him stare without being able to see much.

You smile at the words, your fingertips running over the back of his hand in a relaxed manner. "Me too," you say simply, your lower lip painlessly tucked between your teeth before you decide on confessing the other half of the story. "When I do, I think about you. That you must be in your room: asleep or watching the moon too."

It's awfully cliché but that is a side effect of lovers who have not been sharing a romance for longer than six months. Yuta doesn't show a negative reaction, he thinks it's wholesome that you feel that way, he feels the same way but does not admit it yet because he loves imagining that you think about him at night.

"Is that why we are here together tonight? For you to secretly stare at me instead of the moon?" Yuta playfully asks you as he inches closer to you, it's a playful moment even if he's guilty to the things he is teasing you with. "That was the plan, but I got caught," you answer with a smile as your own body moves closer.

"You know what happens to those who sin," Yuta mentions with a small smirk, his hands moving away from yours to instead embrace your waist. It's an easy way to pull you closer and have some physical contact at the same time, and he takes advantage of the moment do to both of those. His fingertips press against your covered skin as he runs slow and steady circles in an attempt to explore more of you.

You hum soft, an act that you do not care about the consequences of those who sin. In reality, you do care because the consequences are far from pleasant. Being in the contextual element, you know this is not about the harsh punishments people receive upon committing a true sin. Both of you are young enough to modernise the meaning of sin.

"Tell me what happens to those who sin?" You ask as your head wants to lower once more, but Yuta's lips press against the side of your neck, requiring you to keep your head upwards for a little longer.

Yuta's teeth gently nip at your skin when he hears your question, soothing the gnaw with the tip of his tongue. "Why should I explain, it seems like you're about to find out for yourself," he says before he clicks his tongue in a cocky way. Confidence and pride fight for the lead in his heart but lust takes the crown mercilessly.

The first sigh of pleasure leaves your lips after a soft hiss does, but the slight pain of his teeth brings you towards an unexpected amount of pleasure.

"Be mine," Yuta mumbles, the words not far from inaudible because his lips are hastily pressing kisses against your neck while he speaks. "I will be the one who loves you," he continues as now, between every word, the kisses seem to increase their lustful intentions.

You want to respond to the words, tell him you're his and his only but the forming drive to pleasure prevents you from wasting time on explanations. As if his kisses are not satisfying enough, his fingertips go underneath the attire that covers your bare skin. Due to the warmth of your clothing and the coldness of his fingertips, you shiver when his fingertips patch over your thighs.

"Yuta," the way you breathe out his name signals that you're asking for his attention. Your body is fighting against it and wants to beg for more but those words do not articulate on your lips, something holds you back from asking for more intimacy. "This is not right, imagine what would happen if they found out," you reason despite your body urging you to get closer so that his fingertips trail to more sensitive spots. The consequences wouldn't be mild if anyone found out, it's not Yuta who makes the situation problematic, but the authorities and religion that decides that the closest form of intimacy should not occur until marriage.

"Hence why I said I would make you mine, y/n, and trust me…," Yuta starts as his lips trace upwards, leaving the trail of hot kisses to go from the side of your neck towards your ear. His breathing is deep, driven by lust as even your scent is enough to make him want more. "…I will make you mine," he whispers.

The decisive whisper is answered by a solemn nod from you: you trust Yuta but it's mostly your own senses that tell you to stop protesting against it. Yuta's eyes let you undergo an examination, just to check whether you were okay with this. "I'm yours," you whisper as you connect your lips with his for a heated kiss.

The words "I'm yours," seem to split in two as both of you take the words in a different way, and you are yet to find out Yuta's true meaning behind the words. In your eyes, you had been his the second you went from acquaintances to love interests and it still was now that you officially were hidden lovers.

“Only the united beat of sex and heart together can create ecstasy.”

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

Dawn. The first appearance of light in the sky before sunrise.

Dawn. The beginning of a phenomenon or period of time, especially one considered favourable.

Three minutes before there were only ten minutes left until the clock pointed its smallest hand at five. That was dawn. The way you silently laid against Yuta's side on a marble bench, your head resting against the area where you could listen to his heartbeat. That was dawn.

Moonlight chased away the shadows of the night and replaced it with the first light of a new day.

Your eyes are closed but that doesn't mean that you're asleep, for a few hours you have been dozing in and out of catnaps. None of the short amounts of time long enough for a dream, but you feel like you're living in one, so it's not needed to live in a visual world with your eyes closed.

Yuta seems asleep, you can hear by the way he breathes and you can feel by the slow beat of his heart. Sixty-one beats per minute is what you observed on a moment that you were sure he was in dreamland, but keeping track of the number of heartbeats and seconds was a difficult combination. Thus, it could have been a little bit more or some less.

After letting out a soft sound of tiredness, you open your eyes and greet the greenery with a small smile. Though it's mostly the memories that make you smile: memories of the nightfall and its nocturnal ventures. Your mind still holds on to the momentum: the patches of Yuta's fingertips on your skin, the whispers of naughty and nice, the swelling of your heart out of love and the ecstasy that mixed itself due to the heart and sex combining.

A red-pink-coloured flower greets you in its full bloom, it stands out next to the few pastel purple flowers. You can imagine the scent, or you think you can, but you realise you are lying between nothing but greenery and flowers that bloom.

The peaceful moment gets interrupted by deafening noises outside the glasshouse, they aren't extremely loud but the many different audible triggers are blaring. Yet, you're too far away from the window to properly look through it and the bloomed red roses are in front of the nearest window. It's not unusual for these noises to be heard, the time is what makes it strange. But you don't pay attention to it, not more than needed, or so you like to think.

"What are those noises?"

Your eyes shift from the red roses that cover the window towards your lover, it means that you have to turn your body slightly so that you can comfortably look at him. Once you're in a comfortable position, you smile at the sight.

Yuta looks tired and well-rested at the same time, his smile is small but the corners of his lips are twitched upwards the moment he sees your face. "I think someone just left or arrived, usually it is when they are looking for something or about transport," you answer his question so that you have more time to look at him without having to interrupt the moment.

His tired lips press a soft kiss on the corner of your mouth before he draws your body closer to his. "Good morning, by the way," he whispers as he distances his lips from yours properly. "Good morning."

Momentarily, you see Yuta disappearing from the real world and towards his own forest of thoughts. The thought about the shared intimacy come back to life there together with each minuscule aspect that he was able to observe with his five basic senses.

"I meant it yesterday."

You look at him while confusion is written on your face, rather than it's written on your features, there's a ceramic stamp all over your face. "You meant what," you ask and once more turn yourself more towards him so that it's easier to communicate. Before he speaks up, you try to recall everything that has been said yesterday but only two kinds of words come to mind: the sinful words and the outings of genuine love.

"I will make you mine," Yuta answers, quoting them as he said them yesterday. Yesterday or today, the words were still confusing. You already considered yourself as his, but he seemed to wander on a different part there.

Due to the sweetness of the words, you display a small smile but it doesn't fully replace the confusion that primarily outed itself. "I'm yours, Yuta," you tell him in case he suspects you might think otherwise. Perhaps he only saw you as a love interest until now, or perhaps he thinks you see him as nothing but a love interest.

"I mean, truly make you mine. I will love you, worry about you, and be responsible for you," he starts explaining before he stops talking, something rests on the tip of his tongue and he's not going to withhold himself from saying it. The set of critical words are more grand and they leave his mouth once his lips part.

"I want to marry you."

〚 V ; quīnque 〛

Yuta's fingertips are circled up against the palm of his hand, clenched in an angry fist. His footsteps are quick as he makes his way through the formation - that just like him is on the move - , harshly speaking he seems like a soldier marching towards the enemy with a loaded gun between his fingers. He doesn't get distracted by the walking of the people that try to hold him back without using the direct signals that they are trying to stop him.

Perhaps if his wardrobe would have allowed it, he would have been able to fit in with the crowd without getting caught in the act. But his clothes were surprisingly different from their attire: his black coat draped over his shoulders and the gold-coloured details on each visible border are shaped as non-existent flowers.

In his brain, he can clearly recall when you said a situation like this was not completely unusual. Still, the situation was unexplainable to him. It seemed like they were after him: not to chase him and get him off the property but almost leading him inside your home. The place where he had only been once to attend the banquet. Fairly speaking, he did not want to go inside because he would probably see your parents but if he wanted to find you, he would have to go inside

"Would you let my son in without those bastards circling him like he is a prey."

Yuta slowly looks up when he hears the familiar voice saying the words that only make his suspicion turn into facts. His eyes fall on his own father standing next to yours: while your father looks overly satisfied with his arrival, his own father looks slightly disappointed and his pokerface shows a lot more emotion than it should.

"What is going on?" Yuta asks as he glances between the two men for an answer, he knows he's being led by an army of people around him but he wants a clear answer of the things that are going on. When your father only motions for him to follow inside, he roughly marches forward, perhaps a little bit too unrestrained as people are no longer forcing him in direction of the door. "You may come in, Yuta."

Doing as he's asked, Yuta starts to walk up the steps towards the door before following his and your father further inside the place. With each step, he feels a heavy weight being added onto his shoulder and it is almost as if he left his courage at the lowest step of the stairs. Despite already feeling anxious, he makes it worse by starting to look around: not to claim furniture that your father would gift when feeling generous but to check if he could see any traces of you.

Whilst observing he can almost say that he doesn't know whether this family has children, there are no traces of you or something that reminds him of you. It's not even the lack of cohort portraits, it is the lack of personality that this place holds.

"Why don't you sit here with us?" Your father suggests as he walks into the room where he had been with Yuta's father minutes earlier, discussing merely one subject with a filled liquor glass in their hands. The seat where his father sat was still pulled out, signalling it had not been time to bid each other farewell yet. Once his own father takes a seat and your father does too, he sits on the leftover seat.

"I would like to ask why you came here? Or why you have been here almost every day for the past time…" Your father asks but the words suggest for Yuta to speak up so that they don't have to pull the words out of his lips. He doesn't feel like they just caught him in the act but manages to feel the astonishment.

Yuta clears his throat, swallowing the saliva-filled nerves before he speaks up. "I come here for y/n, we enjoy spending time together," the word he tells don't lie but he keeps all of the details behind for as long as he can. Not because he's ashamed or doesn't want to admit to your relationship, but because he feels the urge to protect you.

"And you lure y/n with you into town?"

That is the moment where he feels like he got caught, simply because of you, who had been so scared to get caught whilst walking on the most regular streets in town. He wonders how they found out he took you to town but also considered inhabitants possibly recognising him or you.

"For a simple walk, I had no intention of luring her to town with bad consequences," Yuta explains. But by the expression on your father's face, he can recognise that his explanation didn't add much positivity to the story.

"That is what they all claim, young man. But I hope you realise that y/n will not be at hand to marry you," your father says and before he can comment, saying that that will happen even if your father says no, his father takes the wheel. "If you do not allow my son to marry y/n, I demand us to nullify our exchanges."

The protection from his father gives him courage, he had never expected his father to give protection in this context but misses the clue that his father is only trying to protect future exchanges and deals. Perhaps he misses the clue because they say love makes people blind and he is deeply in love with you. Without suspecting the next step, he waits for your father to give his comment.

"Consider them nullified."

Yuta's father raises from his chair soon after the words are spoken out loud. "I suggest we return homewards, Yuta," he says to his son as he clears his throat uncomfortably. Yuta is unable to perform anything, staring at your father but he is left speechless and frozen in his spot. "Yuta," his father calls out for him again, this time successfully receiving Yuta's attention.

"I will not leave, not until you give me a fair chance to marry y/n. We have a lot in common and both of us want to take the following step," Yuta claims, his voice getting louder as he feels misunderstood. He wasn't just a young man who lured you into town for his own pleasure, he was a young man who wanted to spend the rest of his life together with you. "y/n and I are in love."

Your father is the second one to raise from his chair, marching the short distance between his and Yuta's chair. "Listen to me, Nakamoto Yuta," he starts before he presses his hand against Yuta's shoulder blade. It's not a light touch but Yuta is too stubborn to show his usual strong reactions. "We do not marry out of love, we marry for money and profit. But I require my son in law to have manners, and that is something your parents never taught you."

"I love y/n, and you cannot stop me from doing so," Yuta says as he pushes away your father's hand from his shoulder, he stands up from his chair and turns towards your father. Due to the height difference, it seems like Yuta is in charge but that's only an illusion.

"You are right, I can't stop you from loving y/n," your father admits. Once again Yuta fails to see a detail, this time blinded by his pride when he hears the words. It's a calm moment before the storm, and the storm is only a few seconds away. "Too bad I can stop you from getting married to y/n, and I will do anything. Even if it costs you your life."

Minutes later, the three of them are walking the large hallway in order to get Yuta and his father out of the building. Yuta's fists are clenched as he only states in front of him while walking: angry with the world, disappointed in himself.

An employé opens the large front door for Yuta and his father to for the last time leave this place without ever returning. Exchanges and money-related deals are officially unchained the moment his father walks out of the door. "I suggest you leave now," your father says as he motions his hand towards the outside world, an impolite gesture in Yuta's eyes.

"Allow me to do one more thing before I leave," Yuta says as his feet step closer to the wall, plucking the only decoration from its designated location. The flag's fabric is rich in texture and feels soft under his rough fingerprints, but the feeling in Yuta's hands is too bitter to botire the softness. "As a last gift to you."

A smirk displays on his lips as he glances between his own father and your father. He knows he will get scolded by his own father for playing a dirty trick like this, but he cannot care less about that. His pride and love are on the line and he will not allow anyone to touch either of the two.

"You see this flag right?" Yuta asks as his hand smoothes over the details of the flag before he grips the flag at two of the corners with his hands. The flag is fully stretched between his hands: showing the coat of arms to who he now considered as the enemy. One harsh movement and the flag showed its first rip: the start of something grander than separation. "I would be careful with your words, my life could be spared but yours not," he says to your father before he ceremonially rips the flag in two separate pieces.

The two pieces sadly dwindle onto the ground but Yuta is the only one looking at them with a proud smile on his lips. He momentarily doesn't think of the consequences this has for you: pride takes over his senses. He steps over the piece that holds the coat of arms of your family while he steps out of the door.

"Farewell for now."

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

Unlike Yuta is told, he doesn't exactly leave the property. Told his father that he was going to walk home because he was in need of time alone to reflect on himself. Walked towards the greenhouse in order to meet you.

Seeing you in the greenhouse had been his intention from the moment he arrived but without a chance had lost his non-physical fight against the people that worked for your father. Now he probably was over an hour late to see you, perhaps you even left because you thought he tricked you.

There is a lump in his throat as he walks into the greenhouse and immediately closes the glass door behind him. The greenery doesn't tell him whether you are still here waiting for him but he doesn't ask about it either. His footsteps are quick and headed towards the bench where the two of you usually sit. More than just sitting had happened on the bench but lustful thoughts are not priority.

"y/n?" He calls out your name through the greenhouse but in the meanwhile doesn't stop his footsteps towards the familiar bench. His eyes are busy, wandering around the available space with the hope of you still being here. Soon enough his eyes meet with the red roses that cover the glass window, a sign that he is close to the bench. His body turns, almost dramatically as he knows he will, either way, see you or the empty bench now.

Despite the situation, a smile appears on his lips as he sees you sitting on the bench. "I missed you," he says as he walks towards you and plops himself down on the other side of the bench.

His words are left unanswered and after glancing at you, Yuta realises you look far from happy. "Is something wrong?" He asks you, his hand moving to your thigh, softly stroking over the fabric-covered skin. Deep inside, he knows why you stay quiet but he tries to convince himself that his thoughts are incorrect. "I bet you already know," you whisper.

Your whisper allows Yuta to let out a breath, his nostrils moving as the air is blown out. Momentarily, he doesn't know what to say because what he's supposed to say conflicts with what he wants to say. He needs to say that he is not allowed to marry you but he wants to tell you to run away with him and marry in secret.

"I am not allowed to wed you," you say softly. The heartbreak when you say those words intensifies: first it seemed mere cracks but now that you say the words, your heart is ripped in two pieces. Yuta nods his head, silencing himself by tugging his lip between his teeth. Yet, he can't help but speak "flee. We can do it together and marry without anyone finding out who we are and where we are."

The tempting words are like poison: appealing to you but there is no way back once you took a sip. "What will happen to us? We have nowhere to go, we won't have anyone but each other," you clarify as you once again are afraid to get caught like the time in town. At first, it seemed like no one found out, until today when your father stated the facts.

"Having each other is plenty. I will make up a plan and then we can run together," Yuta says as he takes both of your hands in his. The moment is intense because you're expected to say yes or no: you would say no because of your families and not having anything when you flee, but yes because you promised forever to Yuta and you don't want anything more than having that forever.

Without waiting for your answer, Yuta stands up and pulls you up on your feet gently. "Five days, we leave in exactly five days. Midnight and I will pick you up here, on the bench, in the glasshouse," he clearly states the words so that you'll remember them. You rest your hand against his chest, gripping the expensive fabric of his blazer before your grip loosens.

"I will be waiting for you,"

〚 VI ; sex 〛

Five days consisting of one hundred twenty hours.

One hundred twenty hours consisting of seven thousand two hundred minutes.

Seven thousand two hundred minutes consisting of four hundred thirty-two thousand seconds.

For you, time delays more than normal. Over recent days, you had a speed course on levelling up your provisional skills: lying to your father that you ground yourself in your room because you're heartbroken while you're plotting freedom with the love of your life. It's not an easy task but your father allows it, as long as he can lodge a complaint about Yuta and his family during dinner. You don't talk back to your father because you don't want him to suspect a thing: you simply listen and fraud your tears once or twice.

Yuta journals time in a different way. The hours tick by without difficulty even though he mainly stays in his bedchamber as well: he quietly coats his walls with removable ink that he's been given and draws shapes of patches of land or writes possible destinations as well as a list of things that need to be purchased in advance. Each dinner he will show up for a short amount of time, aside from the day that he stays in the common room until his father goes to bed, that night he lets his hand wander to a treasure of capital and hastily hides it in his blazer's pocket. Stolen money that he wordlessly promises to return one day, but the day would never come.

Whenever the nightfall takes place, both you and Yuta look out of the window: greeting the darkness as you wordlessly wish for one another: thoughts of the night where forever has been a given and received promise tend to come back. It's a coincidence that your desire of Yuta doing the same comes true, but he's simply so in love with you and can't stop himself from thinking about you.

With a little less than four hours to go, Yuta permanently leaves his room. His clothes are deftly hanging in his wardrobe and there's no doubt that dust will coat the exorbitant fabrics. The walls that had been scribbled full are now empty, not a trace of the plans revealed upon the wall. Just like they creatively appeared, they disappeared when Yuta washed them off. Something he takes along with him, is, money and the outfit that is wrapped around his body right now: primarily he is only in need of you and the rest belongs to an unnecessary subordinate.

Once his bedroom has been left, the rest follows minutes after. His father is left the moment Yuta soundlessly passes by his office. His entire home is left behind the moment he steps outside and pulls the door shut. Naturally, those things happen and he doesn't feel any remorse for doing so, he is willing to do anything for the person he loves.

From his property, his first destination is the town. If there is something that might make the flight more serene, it's food to keep both of you alive in the first days of survival. He goes to the bakery that he almost stole from once: a memory he can't help but relive because, despite its negative undertone, the memory consists of you.

The queue at the bakery is not overly long, a handful of people seem willing to buy the fresh-smelling bread. Just as willing as he is, perhaps they need it for survival purposes as well. Two women are in front of him and either of them is accompanied by a child that doesn't look older than five: it's not their turn yet hence why they spent their time being a human newspaper. "Did you hear? Apparently, y/n has been found dead," the words flow from her mouth.

For the first time, Yuta heard what they are talking about. Normally he isn't interested in news brought by human newspapers: what they tell us usually something sugar-coated or filled with a spoonful of sea salt. Your name is the trigger for him to listen, but what follows after, completely triggers him.

"When?" The other woman asks to keep the conversation running and Yuta can't help but allow all of his senses to work together. His ears have to listen as he tries to use his eyes for their body language, on the tip of his tongue is a bitter taste and he can feel tears forming in his eyes. "Last night they say, she was caught and murdered by someone that works for their family."

The words leave Yuta frozen in his spot, the coins that were resting in the palm of his hand are clenched between his fingertips as they form into a tight but sad fist. "Excuse me," he quickly mutters after his body is turned towards the exit, pushing through the few people that are lined up behind him.

Without bread, he leaves the bakery. His footsteps don't match up with the pace he wants to reach: sloppily walking as his mind is as mushy as porridge even though in his mind, he is running as fast as he can towards you.

"I need to get there," he ends up muttering to himself. Realisation of his hindered pace comes after he realises that the past ten steps didn't take him further than to the corner of the street. In that critical moment, his feet finally set off to a faster running pace.

Even if the past five days had gone by rapidly, time now went slower than it ever did before. His footsteps didn't change the pace of time, because no matter how fast he went, it seemed like he didn't reach much further. Tirelessly, his feet continued to run until the first changes in scenery were noticeable.

The streets from town slowly started to disappear, replaced by an uncountable amount of greenery. The only real street was in the form of a path that led him only further into the greenery.

Due to the fast running, his feet tend to oversee the details of the greenery underneath. The first time he stumbles it's over his own clumsy feet. The second time he stumbles and falls it's due to the roots of the tree that cross his path. His black-clothed pants are dirt covered when he sits up on his knees before standing up on his feet again.

"I will take responsibility for you till the end"

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

The rose as red as blood is the only visible factor as he glances through the window of the greenhouse. His hands are pressed on the glass for a direct look upon the bench that's inside: but the red flower prevents him from seeing anything. Now that he thinks about it, he remembers how the roses shielded anyone from seeing the pureness of your bodies as you made love underneath the light of the moon.

Silence drapes a symbolic flag over the property. It's eerily quiet for a long time but Yuta is too busy to notice the silence until finally, a sound drags him out of his observation process. In surprise due to the sound, his hand flatly places against the glass before his body wildly spins around. The large doors are opened and less than a dozen men walk out: dressed formally as they carry outside a variety of objects that Yuta can't make out in of the near distance.

He can recognise the colours printed on the flag, by the things he's been taught, he concludes that this will be the raised flag for the upcoming time. A time of mourning hence the monochrome colour of the flag. He thickly swallows before letting out a cough when the saliva collects at the back of his throat.

Unable to withhold himself from performing sentiments, he screams out of wretchedness. Knees colliding with the ground for the fifth time that day, but the pain is zilch compared to the heartache that burns through his shirt. When he thought his heart would no longer beat, the pace quickened due to one of the men signalling another by pointing near the source of sound. On his knees, Yuta crawled to the large door, letting himself in after he reached up to pull the handle.

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

"J'aime tes pleurs. C'est la rosée qui sied aux fleurs"

Rather than the passionate red roses, blue colourized roses are plucked by Yuta's fingertips. Like you once tutored him: red roses symbolise passionate love and blue roses symbolise unrequited and unreachable love. His promise of never giving you flowers is disintegrated.

In front of Yuta's blurry vision are continuous drips. One drop, two drops and still going. His teardrops landing on top of the sadly fallen flower petals, withering together as a sign of grief.

Memories fall like rain at dawn with each blue rose that Yuta plucks: one for the banquet where you two met for the first time, one for your first shared kiss, one for the endless talks in this greenhouse, one for the intimacy under the moonlight, and the last one for forever that will never come but always be yours.

Five roses are clenched between his fingertips, strongly held as the thorns press into the thin skin. The spring shower of memories stops the moment he spins his body towards he bench, a loud sob wrecking his vocal cords.

"y/n," he calls out to you as he walks up to the bench, his knees willingly giving out right in front of the bench. The place where your body was laid to rest until further notice: the place where you would be at peace, the place where love bloomed much like flowers. Your parted lips almost indicate you want to call out to him too, but your body is still and so are your non-existing words.

"I brought you these flowers," Yuta says softly as he places the five bundled flowers between your folded hands, the coldness of your fingers lingering against his skin until he backs away. "I know you explicitly told me to not gift you flowers but these will not wither, they will bloom," he whispers as his twitching fingertips ache to touch you, but out of fear, he can only let them caress over the rose petals.

His head comes to rest against the edge of the bench. "I hope you like them," he whispers as he can only look at the ground in sadness, shame, heartbreak. His blurry vision detects coral beads on the floor next to something that looks like a brown bean.

Abrus precatorius.

From another memory together with you he remembers the flowering plan out of the bean family. The plant is best known for its seeds, or better said beads that are toxic due to the presence of abrin. Ingestion of a single seed can be fatal to both adults and children.

An old symbol of love in China, which they call "相思豆" or "mutual love bean". A deadly love bean is what humans would tend to call it within the town, simply because they had no idea of official wordings or the dangers of the plant.

Yuta swallows thickly, almost like one of the seeds is on the tip of his tongue and he needs to swallow it. But the bitter feeling on his tongue is due to the realisation of what truly happened.

"I understand y/n. Even if fate separates us, all your tear-drenched memories will die in my embrace," He whispers. The fingertips of his right hand move towards your cheek, stroking over the skin daintily. The tender touch is cold but the warmth of love fills his blind heart. Beneath the bench, his left hand clutches a handful of coral beads.

The decorational plant beads rest in his hand as he brings them up to his mouth. A mutual love bean: cause of death for the love of his life, and soon to be his own as well.

Well-chewed, he swallows the seeds all at once. A breath escapes from his lips as he soon allows his head to lay against your shoulder, your stiff and cold body, pillowed by a thin layer of white lace that covers your skin.

His brown eyes eternally stare towards the love of his life. His broken heart swallows the tears for the deep pierced scars to get healed by the droplets, as a consequence, death starts blooming from the cracks of his heart. Before nightfall spreads over the glasshouse, his solitary serenade is heard.

"Rather than living without your love, I'll die with hatred. When we meet again, I hope we bloom as flowers."

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