vellihor

[vellihor]

unspoken. chapter 4.

cw: sylus x non-mc reader, idiots in love, mute (for the first 3 chapters) reader, knives, blood, violence, gore, trauma, angst, fluff, reader is painfully oblivious! (in the beginning at least), SLOW BURN, intentional lowercase, inspiration from og LADS lore but may contain altered versions :), abuse of emdash

word count -> 4087

italics mean reader’s thoughts

italics in purple mean reader's shadow evol

bold italics are sound effects

quotes are for phone texts or audio

“normal text in quotes are speech”

“italicised text in quotes are signed speech”

author's note: i had severe writer's block... i wasn't sure how it should play out so i had like seven drafts. anyways, i hope you enjoy this! i also have no idea when the next chapter is dropping... school work has been taking the life out of me...

< previous chapter next chapter >

“YOU LET HER DIE. YOU’RE A MONSTER!” miss hunter screeches, fists pounding against sylus’ chest like she could somehow knock sense—or guilt—into him.

“why… did you even… choose me…” her voice cracking as she slumps onto the ground, sobs raking through her.

rooted on the spot, sylus couldn’t find the words to explain himself. guilt wrapping itself around his neck like a collar.

“she even told me to trust you, showed me these… these memories. fuck, i should have known she was going to do something stupid like this-” miss hunter rambles through her sobs.

sylus blinks.

“wait, memories?” sylus voice sharpening as he snapped his head to look at her. “what memories?”

miss hunter stared up at sylus, eyes rimmed red and glistening. “…you don’t know?”

“know what?” he growls, low and dangerous. irritation curling in his gut—not at her, himself—festering into something else.

anger. no, it was self-loathing.

luke finally speaks, still leaning against the wall. “missus was kidnapped. about two weeks before she got kidnapped again.” his tone tired, no judgement, only the truth.

“she was going to tell you but you were… busy.” kieran mutters, arms folded across his chest, glaring—actually glaring at sylus.

sylus flinches just slightly.

his birthday. why she looked so disappointed when he said he was going to spend the day with miss hunter. how she handed him his gift silently.

a deep ache begins to bloom in his chest and cleaved a chasm right where his heart was.

luke turns first, slipping out of the room in silence.

kieran follows without a word, but his expression says enough.

miss hunter gets to her feet, shaky but firm enough to yank her jacket from the back of a chair. she stops by the door, looking back once. the look isn’t anger anymore, it’s disappointment.

“you meant a lot to her, you know. you didn’t even try”

she leaves. the door slams.

and sylus is left in the empty room, drowning in the deafening silence—and everything he couldn’t say to you when he had the chance.

-

the base is dead quiet. rain still ticks against the windows like it’s keeping time.

sylus stands in his office, his hands are shaking before he realizes it.

the small box sits in his desk’s top drawer. untouched since the day you gave it to him. he remembers you handing it over with that tired smile—the one that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

"be safe." your handwriting scrawled on the sticky note.

he thought it was just a trinket. a charm, maybe. he thought—

he thought he had time.

with slow shaky fingers, he lifts the lid.

inside is a small thumb drive. a note folded once, carefully.

“didn’t know what to get you, so I gave you something no one else has.”

“don’t laugh.”

he slots the drive into the laptop.

static hums. then—

"hi… sylus."

your voice stabs him like a blade. your voice was warm. soft. unsteady like you weren’t sure how to do this.

"if you’re hearing this… then i guess i did work up the nerve to actually give it to you." "congratulations, you're now the owner of the very first and very last voice recording i will ever make. you better feel special."

he lets out a strangled breath that sounds like a laugh. or maybe a sob.

"i know, i know, you’ve probably got about a hundred better gifts by now. i just… wanted you to hear me. in case…" (you pause) "in case i chicken out on actually telling you in person. the twins are practically hounding me to tell you."

he clenches his jaw. his throat burns.

"anyways. happy birthday, dumbass. i don’t actually know how old you are." "you're reckless and way too moody to be taken seriously. at least by me. but…" "…you matter to me. and i hope that you know that whatever happens, i’ve got your back."

the recording crackles.

"…oh boy, might need to record that again."

and then it ends.

just like that.

silence again—louder than before.

sylus slumps onto the chair, knees suddenly too heavy.

he covers his face with one hand and breathes in ragged breaths.

she gave him her voice. a goodbye he never knew he was getting.

he hated himself.

-

the ocean had buried you, but death refused to claim you.

a machine's claw dragged you from the seabed—limp, broken, leaking red into the deep. it wasn’t mercy that found you. it was design. cold. calculated.

they fished a body out of the wreckage under heavy security protocols — not because they feared you’d lash out, but because what they’d recovered was precious. a corpse that shouldn’t be breathing, with blood still leeching into the saline tank they had submerged you in. your vitals were a flickering pulse, barely there — yet enough.

thump. thump. thump.

your heartbeat. slow and steady.

"thought you died. most people would’ve. but you… you’re something else.” you flinch at the voice. familiar but not welcome. you realise your arms and legs are strapped to a metal table. you groan, eyes blinking hard as they try to focus under the bright blinding lights. a figure stands beside you, holding a clipboard, wearing a crooked grin.

oliver.

“you died, technically. heart stopped. but that lovely little serum in your blood? brought you back. sort of like a reset button. what a pretty sight.”

a pause.

“welcome back, my little miracle.” he walks away, whistling.

sick fuck.

agreed.

how am i busting out of this?

girl you barely have any strength now. they hit you with evol supressors.

what are you even?

silence.

you sigh and let your head hit the cold table.

a beat after oliver leaves, a mirror-like surface on the wall lights up. static fades as a surveillance feed shows miss hunter, back at the base, yelling at sylus. furious. devastated. tears streaming down her cheeks. luke leaning against the wall, nursing a fractured rib. kieran seated at the couch, with his head in his hands.

the purple tendrils flicker faintly on your wrist.

they think you’re dead. let them.

they began with integrating evols into your body, wanting to know the limit. they called it the "convergence protocol". each injection introduced a new ability — but your body resisted. veins ruptured, bones cracked. fever dreams took hold, and screams bounced endlessly off sterile walls.

-

they called you subject umbra. the experiments started subtly — no metal, no chrome. they weren’t interested in turning you into a machine. they wanted something worse. they wanted to rewrite the very language of your body.

it started small: enhanced neurocapacity. sensory acceleration, thalarokinesis. then — shadow manipulation. a little on the nose for the name subject umbra but you suppose scientists love gassing themselves up like that anyways.

each time they pushed, you cracked a little more inside. they kept you under for days at a time — intravenously feeding you with tranquilizers. when you woke, it was always in another cell. another test. another trial. another neuro-conditioning script. sometimes you would hear someone screaming in the cell across from yours, only to realize the voice belonged to you — from a different time, playing back on loop.

they stripped your name. gave you some bullshit number.

they told you he chose someone else.

you already knew that.

doesn’t make it hurt any less.

they told you no one was coming.

that you were now a tool — a weapon.

and worst of all — they nearly made you believe it.

but something held. strange.

a memory bleeds in, uninvited. kieran tossing popcorn into luke’s mouth across the rec room. sylus, silent in the corner, watching with that impossible softness in his gaze. you laughed then. a real laugh. something cracks inside you at the memory.

the memory of warm voices — laughter. a metal bird. the ache in your ribs when someone laughed too hard beside you. a name, not theirs — yours. not a weapon. not yet.

you stopped resisting when they came. let them feed you evols. let them think they had broken you.

and then, one night, you tore through the compound like a storm made flesh.

rain hell.

gladly.

the facility's lights flickered, died. guards dropped without warning, shadows ripping them apart before bullets left their guns. cameras blinked and then exploded. screams echoed across the labs as systems overloaded.

you were no longer their project.

reaching the core — the central server where your files were stored, where the footage of every test, every mind game, every scar lived. a flick of your hand destroyed all of it with no hesitation.

and when the facility collapsed in a rain of fire and screaming steel, no one saw you walk out of the smoke.

you were something they could never control.

good riddance.

-

the desert was quiet.

the facility had collapsed behind you, now nothing more than a blackened scar in the earth. smoke clawed up toward a moonless sky. the fire was still raging in places, sending embers into the night air like fireflies born of hell. but you didn’t look back.

your bare feet touched cracked stone, then sand. hospital garb torn, scorched — more blood than fabric — but you didn’t feel the cold. didn’t feel much of anything.

the night wind carried unfamiliar scents. dust. decay.

freedom.

the walk stretched for miles without knowing it, without pausing, until the desert gave way to road. distant headlights approached — a truck, maybe military. you raised your hand. not in greeting, not in surrender. just raised it. the truck flipped sideways mid-drive as if reality had bent beneath your fingers. the driver screamed. you didn’t hear him land.

you scavenged clothes. a cloak. gloves. boots. your reflection in the truck’s mirror was a stranger — gaunt, pale, with eyes that glowed faintly gold where they were brown once. irises pulsed with residual power like molten threads running under skin. pulling the cloak over your head, you headed off from the wreck.

you moved from town to town like a ghost. staying only long enough to eat, sleep, read the world again. the news whispered of a destroyed blacksite. no suspects. no survivors. the footage was gone, but rumors circulated — rumors of a test subject who refused to stay dead.

the underworld heard it first. someone had clawed their way out of something unspeakable, and she was looking for names. you were tracing back threads. not to go home — but to understand. what was done. who ordered it. who knew. and who let it happen.

-

sometimes, in the quiet hours between cities, when the adrenaline wore off and your evols took a beat, dreams would find you.

of metal wings fluttering against your shoulder, cool metal nuzzling your cheek.

of warm coffee in a cold base.

of a voice calling your name — not your designation. not your call sign. your name.

and you would wake up with hands shaking and heart screaming silently inside your ribs, and remember that you once belonged somewhere. with them.

but not yet. not until you could stand in front of them and say: this is what you let happen to me.

you were back.

but you weren’t home.

you didn’t even know if you had a home anymore.

-

you moved like smoke through these broken places. you didn’t beg for allies. you earned them. in the underground rings of evol trafficking, you found the discarded, the broken, the experimented-on. those like you. you didn’t need to tell them what was done to you. they could see it in your gaze. you became something between myth and leader. the one who got out. the one who lived. the one who fought back.

you became the phantom. the monster they couldn’t kill.

-

your army began with six.

nieve. the architect behind your tech, weapons, and infrastructure. from autonomous drones to battlefield implants. nieve was once one of the brightest minds of linkon — a prodigy responsible for designing half the drones that now patrol their skies. her downfall came when she hacked into the hunters’ association and accessed top-level clearance documents detailing the truth behind no-hunt zones—classified areas where the government sanctioned hidden atrocities under the guise of safety.

calyx. your fierce lieutenant, who was captured during her tour in the eastern front. experimented on by scientists with similar ambitions to your captors. when you met her, it was like staring down a mirror, only for your reflection to stare back at you. you didn’t need to earn her loyalty, it was forged in mutual understanding.

thorne. a former decorated general of the northern coalition, he had everything—a seat at the table, fleets under his command, and enough medals to drown in. then he saw the casualty reports. child soldiers. teenagers used as bait. disposable lives for political gain. he walked off the battlefield and defected that night. they branded him a traitor. you didn’t promise him peace. you promised him clarity. a war without lies.

reyna. venomous, magnetic and impossible to predict, reyna has been on every wanted list from the inner cities to the outer towns. a master manipulator, she’s survived betrayal, backstabbing and more near-death escapes than she cares to count. no one knows what made her stay. maybe it was the way you didn’t flinch when she threatened you. or maybe it was because, in a world full of liars and warlords, you were the first person she couldn’t manipulate—and the only one who didn’t try to control her.

niko. in another life, niko was a top-tier doctor at one of the most prestigious bio-medical research institutions. that was before the war. before he lost his daughter—killed in a crossfire incident by soldiers chasing after a child. you found him in a bombed-out clinic, patching up civilians with duct tape and stolen supplies. he didn’t ask who you were, just started working on you like he had been waiting. he is the only reason your evols haven’t torn you apart from the inside. the scars, the symptoms, the surges of power. he knows they are coming before you do. every time he patches you up, there is a faint flicker in his eyes—not pity, but pain. because you remind him of her. the fire. the stubborn will. the refusal to die.

quinn. once a political firebrand in the city built on bureaucracy and control. he led a coup to overthrow their lawmakers, and failed. he was publicly stripped of his title and exiled. they thought it would silence him. it only made him louder. you found him speaking in back alleys, stirring riots with nothing but a whisper and a grin. you gave him a platform, and in return he built you a network. he sees the cracks in the web of lies that they have weaved and helps you shatter them.

-

from city slums to high-rise deals, your influence spread like ink in water. you never appeared in the same place twice. rumors whispered of a woman shrouded in black, face obscured, voice calm, eyes empty.

they called you the phantom queen. you never corrected them.

starting small, you toppled micro-tyrants. you stole technology from the companies who funded the facility that made you. you intercepted shipments meant for the lowlifes, bleeding their resources without them ever knowing it was you behind the curtain. you made sure to bring them to their knees, begging for mercy from you.

when mercenaries or agents came too close, when someone got too confident about catching a ghost, they vanished. burned files. corrupted drones. silent bodies.

you weren’t hiding anymore.

you were building.

a throne of ash. a kingdom of misfits. a cause built on vengeance, justice, and freedom. not freedom handed to you, but the kind you take with blood-stained hands.

you didn’t want to rule.

but when the world decided to shape you into a weapon, you learned to point the blade where you chose.

and now, they would all pay the price.

-

SIX MONTHS LATER.

-

the rain was a soft whisper against the windows of the onychinus briefing room, a quiet counterpoint to the chaos flickering across the screen. kieran sat hunched in front of the console, blue light carving out the hard lines of his face, while luke loomed behind him, arms crossed, eyes narrowed on the collapsing patterns forming on the screen.

“third hit this week,” kieran muttered, dragging the cursor across scorched map sectors. “all high-priority targets. gone before we could even blink.”

“no survivors,” luke said, eyes scanning the metadata. “no signs of struggle. no footprints. just… different evol signatures everytime. definitely not working alone.”

kieran brought up a map—red dots blinked one by one across the city’s most corrupt sectors. drug dens. black market nodes. off-grid trading routes. the dots just vanished.

“people are calling it ‘cleansing,’” kieran said, voice tight. “word on the street is they were executed by something called phantom.” his face drew up in a skeptical look, glancing at luke.

luke leaned forward, eyes catching a flicker in one of the glitched frames of a surveillance camera footage. a silhouette—barely visible—moving with surgical precision. shrouded in dark mist.

“not something,” luke murmured. “someone.”

“wait. i recognize that from somewhere.” kieran paused the footage. it was only a shadow figure wielding knives in both hands. rewinding the clip, kieran’s eyes darted along with the figure.

“holy shit-” luke gasped, hands covering his mouth.

both of them stared at the screen before looking at each other.

-

they stormed into sylus’s office fifteen minutes later, soaked in urgency and cold determination. sylus was at his desk, a datapad in hand.

“boss, you’re going to want to see this.”

“if this is another one of your-” he began.

kieran dropped the tablet onto the desk.

“it’s not.”

sylus’s eyes flicked up. the tablet glowed with a still frame from the street surveillance—a blur of fire, steel, and a shadowy figure.

“really? you boys believe in ghost stories now?”

kieran huffed a breath of frustration before playing the footage. the three men soak in the figure’s movements and posture, how they wielded the double knives. quiet realization sinks into sylus. there was no one else that could move like that, especially wielding two knives.

luke stepped forward. “its the only footage that we have, that is connected to the quickly disappearing targets.”

“we thought it was scattered—random factions eating each other alive. but she’s wiping out the whole food chain. from suppliers to smugglers to engineers. we have no idea how they are connected. they’re calling her the phantom… uh- phantom queen, i think.” kieran added.

“boss, it’s her. it’s missus.” hopefulness peeking through luke’s voice.

sylus sinks deeper into his armchair. mind going a million miles a minute.

the silence was so unnatural. kieran furrowed his eyebrows. shouldn’t boss be happy about this?

until a creepy and eerie thought crossed his mind.

“boss… did… did you know she was alive?” kieran muttered, unsure but aware of the accusation he is tossing out.

sylus clenches his jaw, not meeting the twins’ gazes. they took it as a confirmation.

“when did you find out? why didn’t you tell us? fuck- why didn’t you look for her?” luke burst out indignantly.

“you think i haven’t tried? she obviously refuses to be found.” tossing the datapad in his hand onto the table, the twins saw a myriad of red dots on the map. littered with marks — places sylus have tried looking for you.

“so what now?” kieran says, glancing up from the datapad.

when they are met with silence, they retreat from the office. letting sylus sit in the choking silence that he has gotten all too used to.

-

outside the office, the twins have already begun moving to the hangar. “if he doesn’t want to face it, i’m not sitting around waiting for him.” luke looks to his brother. kieran’s jaw was tight, eyes flicking to the rain-slicked tarmac beyond the hangar. he didn’t argue. just nodded once, sharply. “i rather be out there, looking for her. now that we know she’s still alive.”

they moved quickly — practiced, silent. years of working together made planning almost unnecessary. the car was prepped in fifteen minutes. their movements had a certain violence to them — as if guilt was driving every step.

-

weeks pass with no results from the twins’ search. sylus was at an auction, looking for the aether core that has eluded him for the better part of the month. when the auctioneer tells him that another buyer had bought it out from him just moments ago, sylus flies into a rage and tosses the auctioneer against the wall, pressing him for more information.

“luke, kieran. it seems like there’s another force at play. i’m sending you the coordinates. i’ll meet you there.“ sylus talking into his phone as he steps out into the hallway.

-

the woods are unnervingly quiet. the cabin sits on the face of the mountain, inconspicuous amongst tall trees.

luke and kieran approach slowly, weapons drawn and ready. sylus had given them the coordinates that led them here.

luke narrows his eyes. “there’s movement inside.”

-

you sit calmly at the small dining table, legs crossed, one hand around a ceramic cup. steam curls from the tea. across the wooden floor, a man’s body lies sprawled, blood seeping from a clean slice wound to the neck.

you exhale slowly as you sense figures approaching the cabin.

the door gets kicked inwards and falls off of its hinges.

BANG.

the twins rush in, guns raised—only to freeze at the sight of you.

you don’t move. you simply raise an eyebrow.

“oh, come on.” you set the teacup down with a clink. “it’s not even my cabin.”

stunned silence.

the twins just stare. like they’ve seen a ghost.

“miss me, boys?” you grin, then take a long, unbothered sip.

“really? nothing?”

suddenly, the comms crackle on luke’s vest, sylus’ voice rings throughout the room.

“status?”

neither twin responds. they’re still too busy trying to decide what to do when you were right in front of them.

you hear sylus curse faintly over the comms. you knew he was always nearby in case things went sideways. if he was close before, he was sprinting now.

the doorframe groans. boots skid against the floorboards.

sylus appears in the doorway—panting, wide-eyed as he takes in the sight of you.

you stare back, unflinching.

when the room remains silent, still reeling from your appearance, you sigh.

“okay. that’s enough staring.” you pick up the briefcase by your side and shove it across the table. it skids to a halt right within sylus’ reach.

“there. take it.”

sylus approaches, hesitant like the briefcase might explode. i would deserve it, he thinks. he opens it— and sees the aether core pulsing softly within.

his brows furrow. “…how did you know?”

you shrug, leaning back. “i have my sources.”

a beat passes.

“you have what you want. now please—stop looking for me.”

the silence that follows is sharp.

then sylus snaps.

“that’s it? you’ve been gone for six months! we thought you were dead! and now you’re just—sitting here drinking tea-”

“weird.” you cut in smoothly. “you made the choice. so why are you the one yelling when i’m the one who should be yelling at you instead?”

you stand, slow and measured. your cold gaze pins sylus in place.

“keep telling yourself you didn’t leave me to die. that my blood isn’t on your hands.” you turn, walking towards the backdoor.

your hand brushes against the knob before it locks solid, unmoving. red mist coils over the metal.

you pause.

“huh… thought miss hunter left you.” your smirk sharp enough to cut. “is the aether core part of your pitch to win her back?”

wow. the petty is winning, i guess.

shut up.

you notice how the twins share a confused look. you tilt your head mockingly.

“oh. oops.” your tone cruelly sweet. “you didn’t tell the twins? i’d say i’m sorry, but…”

“i’m really not.”

the doorknob shatters under sylus’ evol. the mist dissipates.

your smirk falters. your gaze turning stone cold.

“before you try ordering me around again—newsflash, i don’t take orders from you anymore.”

your form flickers. shadows gather around your feet, shrouding you in darkness before it all melts away to nothing.

you’re gone. again.

< previous chapter next chapter >

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[vellihor]

under the clear night sky, it seemed as if the world was telling her she didn't deserve the stars or the moon. she stood on the ledge of the roof, eyes fixed on the horizon. mind wondering about the world out there, about the endless possibilities in this world.

yet here she was, unable to pull herself from this vicious cycle. she was aware of her own worth but when it came to him, she simply couldn't ignore it. the heart that only wants him. ironic, since she pushed away everybody all her life. but he offered warmth that was what she craved. she thought she would be the only one. how naïve of her. she scoffed at herself. of course she didn't deserve it.

the cold wind whips all around her, nipping at her cheeks and nose. she barely feels it. her heart laid vulnerable in her chest, bleeding all of the unspoken words and emotions. she didn't want to come in second place for the rest of her life. she wanted to be someone's priority for once.

someone who could love her back.

[vellihor]

and i wouldn't marry me either

word count: 20.1k

warnings: ANGST. hurt/comfort, over the seasons/winning you back

summary: You come to a slow realization in one spring, and a revelation in another.

春

To be plucked, nurtured, raised, and presented on a platter all for the sake of securing someone's position for the throne. To be placed beside said person and never used. To be nothing more than a tool perfected only to be abandoned before use.

Your lashes flutter as you wander around the palace, pausing to stare at the lotus in the pond, and you ponder the whereabouts of your betrothed. The wind flutters behind you as you stare pitifully at the lilypads, stepping down from the path and onto the grass to touch the water. The dress around your body is tucked behind you by a maid as your fingers brush the water, and you pause, heart rippling in your chest. Something. Anything. You have fulfilled your duty as the most ideal woman in the palace, and now you were to be wed and desired. Yet, one whom you were prepared for did not desire you.

You stay crouched by the pond, and the maids to the other palaces bustle behind you as you stare into nothing.

A quiet woman is to be desired. A gentle woman is to be adored. An obedient wife is every man's dream.

You get up after a while, and you stare at the robes on your body. Pink for the lotus flowers. You wonder how many times you have worn the dresses prepared by the late empress for her ideal daughter in law only to never have been seen by the man you were nurtured for. You hear word of your betrothed and his new maid, and you hear tales about how he desired her and approached her with all these thoughts in mind. You cannot help but wonder what you were created for prior to being picked by the empress.

The wind rustles the leaves above you as you get up, and someone bangs a pot in the background.

Somewhere, there is a rope fraying.

You step back onto the pathing, and you head off to continue wandering. You know the path, each stone and slot of wood stained with a memory that you could never erase from the back of your mind. In your palace that you are to share with your betrothed, there is something staining your fingertips and heart. In the palace of your future and past, there is a drop of your sweat on each tile and piece, each plank and pillar, every color and china. In the palace of the present, you embody everything you can touch and feel. Your skin and body lives in the palace, a shell for your hollow heart.

You wonder if your courses on decorating a house according to what is best for fengshui were helpful. What was the point of decorating a residence if your betrothed never visited you? You wonder and think, fingers swiping to check the maids' cleaning, and you leave the room to return to your tea room, enjoying a cup of tea. You plant so many flowers only to never be visited. You decorate each room to perfectly only to be never seen. You fan yourself with your hand, almost as though you were fanning such pointless thoughts away. A house is to represent its owner. It is not a shell for your hollow heart, it is an abode that will be filled with love one day.

It is an abode that will be filled with love one day, an abode that is currently hollow.

You retire for the night, and the maids leave you to rest as Jinshi enters his corner of the palace, lashes fluttering and his heart souring as he looks at you with something akin to pity. He brushes your hair to the side as he looks down at you, closing his eyes to listen to the summer breeze whisper secrets of his into his ear. The flowers blossom outside, and his shoulder sink, his head heavy as you breathe quietly without a care in the world.

His bride to be.

His wife to be.

A girl picked carefully out of a field and nurtured to be the greatest empress one day. he pities you. You will never be chosen, and it hurts him that you were promised something you could not have nor be loved by. He glances around the room at the decorations, and he hums, lips curled into a sweet smile. It's homey. It's clear you had put thorough thought into where you were told you were to spend your future with him in, but it hurts him that he would not be here with you in the future. Too selfish to throw you away, yet too selfish to fall in love with you.

His heart belongs to someone else.

So, as he slides the door shut behind him to head back to his room, he can't help but wonder what is to become of you when he finally marries someone else. Perhaps you will find yourself, or maybe you will become a shell of what you were made to be, hollow from the inside out and unsure of what to do with the rest of your life. To be a doll and to be grown all for his sake only to be never touched... Jinshi wonders if you know what you want to do if you were to have had a choice in the matter. You did not pick to be as delicate as a flower, after all.

The moon is gorgeous, just a shame that he could not make you the center of his affections.

So Jinshi leaves, wind rustling the tree you planted in your sixth year of life's branches, the lotus flowers planted recently bobbing in the water as the pond rustles from the goose lands on the water, and he closes his eyes, listening to the crickets and noticing the lights in the hallway. A maid nods at him as he passes, and the wood of the residence creaks under his feet, almost as if to warn him to stay away if he would only hurt you.

It was neither of you's choice to end up where you are.

So his only choice made will be to pick his wife.

夏

In summer, you swap the warmer blankets to silk, and you change the coloring to something brighter. It did not matter if Jinshi did not visit you. It only mattered that the residence were still run like a residence. So, the maids swap everything out as you are left to your own again, and you wear lighter clothes, drinking tea alone in your tearoom as you watch the ducks kick in the pond. The residence lacks life. You have no child as you are unmarried, and you are stuck in some sort of crossroad of destiny as you wait for your betrothed to do something.

He does not want you. You know that at the very least.

So, you spend your days drawing, brush wet against the paper as you draw, and you spend your days singing, hoping that somewhere along the lines, you would find something that made you shine in a glass cage. You are nothing if Jinshi does not treasure you. Yet, you do not speak or dare to make more of a sound whenever the maids from the other palaces drop by to request of your presence for their consorts. You are something. You are worth something. You are only worth something because you are still Jinshi's most anticipated betrothed. Yet, all the consorts know that you are not the ideal choice.

You glance at Maomao, lips spreading into a smile as you greet the consort Gyokuyou.

You have tea with her, updating her about the latest news that her maids cannot reach, and you blink at the flower in the tea, smiling apologetically as you ask if you could share another drink. Your eyes trail to her developing baby bump, and you switch topics to how her health has been lately. She tells you it has been fine. A green tea is brought in, and you press the drink to your lips as she continues talking to you.

"Ah, did you hear? Your betrothed has recently taken in a new maid."

"I know." You smile, eyes landing on Maomao. "I heard he had been making unwelcome moves on her as well."

Maomao nods.

"Well, the man's want needs to be placed somewhere." She smiles. "I do hope you take no offense in that."

You laugh. "None taken. He does not want me. I am aware of that much."

Maomao looks at you almost with pity. You do not mind, much used to the look already. Neither of you chose to end up where you currently are. You suppose the difference between her and you is that she is knowledgeable in something specifically while you are knowledgeable in everything generally. It is who you are, and it is who you were raised to be. There is no you without the title of betrothed attached to it. You will be forced to live how you were raised unless you had a reaction and changed. What is there to change in an unchanging environment? Even if you were to change, there would be no difference around you. You are born and raised to be Jinshi's wife. That is all you ever will amount to.

"Then, what do you suppose will happen?"

"The betrothal is simply a formality." You smile bitterly. "I shall simply wait for him to break it."

"He is far too selfish to let go of you."

Your gaze averts to the teapot on the table. "I know."

"Do you truly wish to stay here forever?"

There is no amount of improvement you could pour into yourself to possibly be set free from the palace. You are Jinshi's betrothed. You have been his betrothed, and you will continue to be his betrothed. You have never belonged to yourself as one would have belonged to themselves. You were simply created to be a person that was never your person. You are everything to be desired by the noble worth nothing to the people. You were groomed, grown, nurtured, and ruined for the sake of someone who would never touch you. You are a porcelain doll trapped in a wooden cage with the key around your neck.

You are worth nothing without your title of betrothed.

You have been taught to never escape even when given the chance. You are not to touch the key around your neck. For if you don't, you will be rewarded with riches beyond the comprehension of the common man. For if you don't, the boy you were coerced to crush on will look back at you for once. For if you don't, the world will be a better place all thanks to your small sacrifice. You are to hold the earth up to the sky and die in order for everyone else to live. Then, you will be remembered for the rest of your life.

You are an obedient doll on display for the dignity of the royal dynasty.

"So?"

You laugh dryly. "Where else do I have to go?"

A nameless bride from a nameless family. A dressed up doll on display.

The consort's face weakens in pity.

You can only smile bitterly at her.

There is nothing else you can do. There is no one else you can rely on. You have the key around your neck but you do not know how to use it.

That night, you return to your room, resting on your bed under the summer warmth, silk cool against your skin as the moon shimmers, stars twinkling as you grimace, heart heavy in your chest. You are not loved. You are not loved, nor chosen, nor cherished. You were picked from an empty field and nurtured to become someone you were not simply because there is never a person you were. You are put into the skin of another because you do not have your own. You will never be yourself is there was never a you to begin with. You will never know the warmth nor happiness of being your own person. All you know is to devote yourself to Jinshi.

All you know is that in a field of flowers, you will never be picked by the one you were grown for.

秋

Colored leaves detach from the branches during the season of fall. You change back to warmer blankets, clothing a little more warm, and you arrange for the incense scents to be changed to something else. The bedding becomes thicker, the colors become redder, and you watch the flowers around the residence lose life with each day. The winter is getting colder, and your heart is only further breaking, cracking ever so slightly with each creak of the wood when you step around the place. You are not loved— not by the maids, nor by your soulmate. You are not loved.

You do not have a soulmate.

It is painfully evident when you visit the noble consorts, lips curled into a sweet smile when you drink tea with them. It is painfully obvious when the emperor refuses to let you leave Jinshi when you bring it up as a joke. You are not allowed to do anything in the palace. You are handed a key as a necklace but you do not leave. You are the display at the center of a traveling performance crew. You are a doll that will never be purchased because of your value. A doll that will never be touched because you are too prideful to offer yourself to anyone who is not Jinshi.

The sun may rise and set and the stars may twinkle and sparkle, but you will never be worth anything in the eyes of Jinshi. You are worth nothing. In the eyes of the emperor, you are worth nothing. In the eyes of the other consorts, you are a pitiful child that will be inevitably thrown away. In the eyes of Maomao, you are Jinshi's unfortunate betrothed whom she wishes he would pay more attention to. In the eyes of your maids, one day Maomao will take over as the owner of the residence and you will be left behind. You do not matter in the eyes of anyone.

Somewhere in the distance, a rope frays further.

Somewhere in the distance, in another universe, in every universe, you are cursed to love and never be loved. You are forced to hold the hand of a man who does not want you. In this universe and every other one, you are stuck wallowing in self-hate, pitied for the way you are treated, despised for being the one who stands next to your husband. You are not a person. You exist only as a shell to embody other people. You will never be yourself. In every other universe and yours, you will be the shell that a hermit moves into only to be abandoned when they outgrow you. You will never be someone of value.

You call the maids to remove the tea, and you wander out into the streets of the capital.

Warm colors of red yellow and orange litter the streets with each step you take, and you purchase a quick snack, chewing on the sugar as you consider how you would need to starve yourself in order to lose the weight gained from the sugar. It makes you sick. You do all these things because you were conditioned for no outcome. You love Jinshi with your whole heart only for him to be in love with someone else. You cannot compare to her. She cannot compare to you. You are too different from her. You wonder if Jinshi simply desired a woman who could not be attained. You were too easy. Too simple. You were created and made in order to be perfect for him.

You purchase peanut treats, chewing on the treat as you watch the sun start to set.

A maid tells you it's time to go home.

You only nod.

You stare at the courtesans in the brothels, and then at your own skin. Perhaps that would be a way out. Perhaps if it were ever to come to it, you would pick that. It is not undignified. You would be sold for a good price, and you would have a rich husband. Perhaps the only downturn would be that the man would sleep with you day and night, but you wonder if that would be better than the bitter loneliness that your years of solitude have left you with. Perhaps you would be worth something in the eyes of another man if you just let go of your pride. Perhaps you would be of worth.

You are just an empty shell, after all.

You find yourself stuck in place as you blink quickly, realizing there are tears on your cheeks and splattering onto your chest. Your maid hands you a handkerchief, and you wipe them away, wiping again and again and again until the fabric is drenched and you no longer can wipe your tears. You stay like that, an anomaly in a bustling street of happy people, your emotions tucked behind your mind as your eyes form a mind of their own as you cry. You are not sad. You do not know how to feel sad. You only know how to cry. You are a doll. You should not know how to cry. You were erased of that ability years ago.

Yet, the tears do not stop, and you cry until the sun is no longer visibly, tears splattering still even when they wash you up for the day. It makes you unwell. It makes you feel sick. You should not know anything so unbecoming of a lady like this. You should not know how to cry. You should only know how to smile and wait for your betrothed to come home. You should not know how to be human. You should not know anything in this wretched world other than the happiness that being married could bring you.

So, as the maids clean you up and let you rest for the night, you dream of a happy marriage with Jinshi.

It is the only thing you know, after all.

冬

Winter comes and you dress warm. The fur rests on your shoulders as you sit down for tea with Consort Ah-Duo, wine pressed to your lips as she lets out a heavy sigh.

"It is a pleasure to receive your visit." You smile.

"Jinshi, that child, he's quite the handful, isn't he?" She gets straight to the point, mumbling. "Had I been more upfront about it, perhaps I could have stopped your demise."

You laugh, lips curled into a bashful smile as you try to hide it with your sleeve, but Ah-Duo sees right through you.

"You are hurt."

"It is hard not to be." You hum, letting your sleeve down as you stare at the drink. "But I have grown used to it."

"The residence must be empty without a master."

You shake your head. "I have grown used to it."

"I could ask the emperor to give you to me." She offers, hand held out to you.

You turn her down. Your role in this world is not to be a servant to the late consort. Your role in the world was already predestinated. It is fate for you to end up with Jinshi in every universe. "I would become a servant. That is not my role in the palace."

Ah-Duo grimaces. "Is your role to wait until Jinshi is forced to throw you away?"

You laugh, lips curled into a gentle smile this time. You do not bother hiding this one. She shakes her head in disagreement, but she does not speak up. You are stuck in your role just as she is stuck in hers. She has retired from the main palace now. You will retire from being Jinshi's betrothed when he deems it fit. You will not be the decider of your fate.

"Let us drink. I missed this."

You are her daughter just as Jinshi is her son. You are the child she watched grow up in another consort's palace, your pinky linked with Jinshi's when the two of you were scared of official events, your shoulders straightening through the years as your education furthered, until you were an undeniable presence in the royal court, your words like law, just and righteous as you argued against the old men who would stop at nothing to prove a woman like you wrong. You are her daughter the same way Jinshi is her son. You are her daughter simply because you grew up with her son.

"I did too." You press the wine to your lips, bitterness sliding down your throat as you swallow, that faux happiness dropping almost instantly. You are not a lightweight. You are trained to drink well in order to talk to guests well. You despise it. You have learned that. You have learned to despise things.

You despise yourself.

You despise the people who pity you.

You despise the maids who whisper behind your back about how you would be replaced one day.

"I do not expect you to forgive Jinshi." Ah-Duo speaks. "I would not forgive him either."

"There is no forgiving to be done. He is simply making his own choices." You nod as the maid refills your drink. "I am not a woman to be desired by him. He is the type to pick a chicken leg over an abalone. He is the type to pick a stick rather than a flower. I am simply what the late empress thought of as desirable to him but ended up not to be. I am not something that Jinshi believes is desirable in his eyes. It is that simple."

"You are desirable." The consort refutes you. "You are educated in everything there is to educate someone in. You are smarter than the majority of eunuchs and workers in the palace. You are someone who is the most desirable person there is to be. Your worth does not lie on Jinshi alone."

"That is what I have been conditioned to believe."

"It is not the truth. Ah-Duo presses the liquor to her lips. "You are just as much of a person as Jinshi is. Perhaps, because of your upbringing, you are more noble than him in antics."

"He is more noble than I." You shake your head. "He is more noble simply because his position allows for him to make his own decisions regardless of who he hurts in the process."

"You may make your own as well." She hums. "Regardless of who you hurt in the process."

"I do not know how to do that." You close your eyes, exhaling. "I am not someone with that capability. I must carry the weight of being unwanted for the dignity of the royal family. I am the doll created to keep the royal family desirable. I am an exotic flower planted in a field of domestic ones, dying to be picked, only to never be touched."

"That is a lie." Ah-Duo frowns. "You are not a doll. You are just a girl."

You laugh. "I am not just a girl."

"You are just a girl." She repeats herself, staring into your eyes. "You are a just a girl. You are a girl who does not deserve anything that is happening to her. You are a girl who was picked out of the hundreds of thousands of girls abandoned on the streets because your family could not afford to raise a girl. You are not a flower curated for the betterment of a boy who would never pick you. You are a girl, not a flower. not a doll."

Your eyes do not waver, and you break the silence with another dry laugh.

"I am a doll on display with the key around her neck." You smile. "But I thank you."

You miss the way her features soften with the pity you despise.

春

When spring comes back, you watch the merchants bring in new silk and the streets fill in with the season's specials. You pick out the fruit and ingredients for the newer dishes, testing them out after they are made, and nodding in approval for them to be tasted by the rest of the consorts. Maomao helps you compile a list of ingredients that are not healthy or safe, and you look through them. Then, you send the ingredients out to the rest of the palace alongside the supplier.

Some days, you forget that you are an existence. Some days, you forget you have influence in the palace.

"Madam, what about this one?"

You turn to Maomao, and she shakes her head.

"No." You reject right away.

You wonder what made you change your mind about Maomao. You suppose it is pity that you do not have to give. You pity her for having to put up with Jinshi. Yet, it is not something you worry about for the time being. You squat down as you take your feet out of your shoes, grimacing at the sores on your feet from the shoe size that is too small.

Maomao takes note of it, shaking her head.

"You do not bind your feet, but you force them to stop growing."

"It is no different." You smile. "Your feet remain unbound, do they?"

"They do. I have no need to bind them. Granny did not request of it either."

"That checks out." You smile. "I do not bind them but keep my shoe size small out of my own volition.

"You should stop doing that." She pauses. "Not to sound presumptuous, but shoe size does not matter to Jinshi."

You blink, eyes going wide in amusement as you laugh. "You are as straightforward as the maids warn me."

Maomao bows her head in apology.

"Don't worry about it." You smile. "You are to be the lady of this residence soon, after all."

"I do not wish to." She shudders. "Ever since he... I do hope he regains interest in you."

"There is no way he was interested in me in the beginning." You hum. "It is really that simple."

"You have stopped deluding yourself—" Maomao slaps a hand over her mouth. "Apologies."

You laugh more, lips pulled into a wide laugh. "I quite like you."

She blinks at you cattily. "Please do not."

You shrug. "I understand why Jinshi would find you entertaining. I heard he proposed to you. One of the maids overheard it."

"I do not want him, if that soothes you. It is an honest statement as well." Maomao nods.

"I know that much." You hum. "Unfortunately, men in power tend to coerce women for their gain. If you do not wish for it, you may always let me know. I hold little power over Jinshi, but I hold heavy power over the words heard by these walls."

"You are powerful." She points out. "Yet you are so empty."

"So I've been told." You hum. "Those go over there. Keep that one away from the pure consort. She is unable to have those."

"Yes madam."

"Is there a reason you lack?"

"I do not know how to be anything but empty." You shake your head. "It is one of the many reasons Jinshi does not desire me."

"I believe he seems parts of you in me."

"No." You reject the idea near immediately. "We are not similar to that degree. Jinshi does not have the brain to think of us in that way. He is better than his father."

"The late emperor."

"The dead one."

Maomao shudders. "Children."

"Those poor children." You snort. "I was almost one of them."

"You are not that old."

"The late emperor saw me in the same way he saw the late empress. He was on his last years when the late empress took me in and raise me beside Jinshi." You shake your head. "Had I been born just a little earlier, I would have been sent in as a poor girl to be defiled by the emperor."

Maomao grimaces. "Did you fall in love with Jinshi at first sight?"

"No. I had just been taught that the only man I should look at is Jinshi." You hum. "Halt. What is that?"

The merchant shows you the signed form and hands you a sample, and you frown at the taste, handing the other half to Maomao.

"No."

"You heard her. No." You wave the merchant off, and he gasps, frown on his face.

"It is incredible." Maomao looks at the guards drag the man away. "A single word from you is the equivalent of a royal decree."

"The late empress had this power bestowed on me, after all." You mumble. "I am not someone who has ever had power that belonged to me."

"Can you eat poison?"

"The vast majority of them." You hum. "I was fed them while growing up."

"You seem to be everything at once. You are constituted with all the knowledge there is to offer, yet you are empty inside."

"I am composed of materialistic things." You hum. "I am composed of knowledge. I am the closest thing to perfection, I suppose. Whatever that means."

"A subjective perfection of the late empress regnant."

"Yes." You laugh. "I am a shell created to hold things. I am not constituted of anything that makes a person a person."

"Other than the physical features, I suppose." Maomao mumbles. "Yet, you are quite the enigma. You have a personality and something. You are like a dam that is waiting to explode. You are a pot of medicine simmering, waiting to boil over and become what you need to be. Ah. My apologies. I must have come off as rude."

You shake your head, lips in a smile. "So? Did you understand what to do?"

"I did." She nods. "My greatest appreciations for you for showing me. I hope I never have to take over this position."

You only laugh.

That is inevitable. The pin had already been passed on to her, after all.

But as your eyes trail to her and then to yourself, you wonder. Perhaps the two of you are just parallels of each other.

Maybe you are.

Who knows.

夏

In summer, you see Maomao again, going for tea with consort Gyokuyou.

"I missed you." She smiles. "Sit."

"How is the baby?"

"Good." She nods. "Ah. Your shoes have changed."

You smile. "You can thank your maid for that."

"They must be much more comfortable."

"Yes." You nod. "I will never be desired by Jinshi, yet he will never throw me away, so I may as well give myself a little more leeway."

"That is good. "She smiles. "The new dish you approved for eating was delicious, for your reference."

"I'm glad." You smile. "Maomao helped make that one."

"Oh, really? I am so lucky to have such a capable maid next to me." She giggles.

"Yeah." You hum, lips curled into a smile. "She's great. I'm sure she'd make for a great lady of the house."

"Are you to leave?"

"You heard of the proposal, yes?"

She doesn't react, but that itself is an answer.

"It is only a matter of time." You hum.

"I speak for all the consorts, but we will miss you."

"Thank you." You smile pitifully. "I am grateful for your care over the years."

"We are grateful for your management." She smiles. "So? Have you planned for where to go?"

"The streets." You wink at her, laughing.

She does not reciprocate, and you stop your laughter, eyes closed and lips pulled into a smile as you hum. "It's a secret. Though, I will be around."

"Will you?"

"You will see me in the trees, the breeze, and the wheat." You hum. "I will be in the wind, the sky, the clouds. You will see traces of me everywhere, simply because my blood and sweat has been poured into the imperial palace."

"Perhaps it is time for you to be freed." She hums, lips pulled into a smile. "A journey for the self."

"Rather than that." You hum. "Perhaps it is simply time to let go of Jinshi."

"Does the empress still haunt you?"

"No." You hum. "I am slowly unlearning the need for a husband."

"Then you will become a courtesan?"

"Perhaps I shall simply be employed as a maid instead." You mumble. "I would not be against such."

"Dress as a man and become an assistant." She laughs.

You smile. "Perhaps that is my new role in this narrative."

"Or, perhaps it is simply time for you to be freed from the grasps of the palace." She smiles. "Please take care of yourself."

"I will. After all, I am still a doll for the royal family."

"Darling. You are just a girl."

You do not answer to it this time.

秋

In fall, you have tea with Maomao.

The two of you sit in your tearoom with snacks, and she looks around anxiously, almost as if she were worried about something pouncing on her.

"There have been more assassination attempts on Jinshi lately." She mumbles.

"And you?"

"and I." She mumbles. "I do not understand why."

"Perhaps the emperor is making a move." You hum. "Or perhaps it is one of the consorts."

"I do not know." Maomao mumbles. "It is almost as if it were the calm before the storm."

You hum. "There is a storm brewing, alright."

An arrow pierces through the window as you knock the tea to the ground to hide Maomao with your body. Another one misses you narrowly, and you reach for the blanket on the bed, thick with cotton and warmth as it stops the arrow. Maomao stares up at you, heart racing in her chest, expression unchanging. This is what she meant. You are a force to be reckoned with. You possess the knowledge far beyond the abilities of the average consort, yet you are not acknowledged simply because the one to acknowledge you does not do so. You reach behind her for the sword under the bed, unsheathing it with ease as you slide out of the blanket, jumping out the window to chase after the assassin.

You are everything at once.

Your footsteps are light with each jump, and you swing from the branches as you knock him onto the ground, sword pressed to his neck, slicing through clean as you land with a thud in the pond. The ducks fly away as you land, water all over your robes, the blood from the decapitation bleeding into the water. The water stains your dress red from the blood, and you pant above him, pulling the sword away as you stand up to run a hand through your hair. The sun burns against your back as you throw your head back to breathe, eyes closed as Maomao's footsteps catch up to you.

"Are you injured?"

"No." You shake your head, showing her your hands. "though, these are roughed up."

"I will prepare ointment." She nods.

"Madam!" The maids yell. "Are you alright?!"

"Fine." You nod. "Fetch a change of clothes."

"We shall prepare it. Do you need to be bathed?"

"No." You shake your head. "No need. Perhaps just wash my feet."

They nod, and you hold your hand out for Maomao to apply ointment.

"Maomao!" Jinshi calls. "There you are! What are you doing here?"

You glance at him, nodding, head held down as he excuses you.

"Your sleeves are bloodied!" He reaches for her wrists, and she pulls away with a harsh tug.

"An assassin was after me." Maomao continues sliding the balm against your palm. "Your betrothed saved me."

"...thank you." Jinshi nods at you.

"You owe me one now." You nudge Maomao with a raise of your brows. "Better find a way to pay me back."

"I'll let you marry Jinshi." She deadpans, shuddering.

"Maomao!" Jinshi's jaw drops in hurt.

You laugh. "He won't let me marry him."

"Tsk. Worth a try." Maomao grumbles.

"Madam! The clothes!"

You nod in response, smiling as Maomao is taken away once the maids pull you to rid you of the blood.

You do not despise Maomao, but you do not deserve that lack of attention that Jinshi gives you either.

You are just a girl. You do not deserve this.

冬

Jinshi talks to you this time.

He comes to the residence after being ordered to by the emperor, and he stares at you with your sleeves rolled up in the winter snow arranging the flowers. He does not know what to feel for you. You are his betrothed whom he does not visit, but he is your betrothed whom you do not talk to first. Perhaps it is simply excuses on his end. You do not know what he would think, after all. He was clearly in love with Maomao.

"You could have a gardener tend to such flowers." Jinshi speaks up, and you jump in your skin, visibly surprised to see him in the residence.

"J-Jinshi." You mumble, eyes wide.

"You are dirtying your clothes." He mumbles.

"Is it despicable?" You look up at him, eyes tired.

"It is foreign." He whispers back. "Though, it is not unwelcome."

"I see." You go back to the plants, tending to the roses.

"The emperor... is requesting the two of us for tea."

"I figured you have come for something and not for me." You stand up, dusting off your dress as Jinshi offers his hand to help you back onto the pathing.

You do not take it.

"What have you been up to?"

Jinshi tries to make small talk. You chuckle.

"Not much. I have only been tending to the plants in the garden."

"What about the rooms?"

"They have been filled with warm blankets for the winter." You hum. "The lanterns are all lit since it would be darker earlier in the day, and the walls have been repainted for the season."

"I see." He pauses. "And the salaries of the maids?"

"I have already taught Maomao. Fear not." You glance at the passing maids whisper to one another about you. "When will you be announcing it?"

"I will not be announcing it." He shakes his head. "Once my position is stable, then I will announce it."

"I see." You hear something rustle in the distance, choosing to ignore it as the two of you stop before the emperor's tearoom.

"Announcing the arrival of the second prince and his betrothed!"

"Enter." The emperor speaks from the inside.

The two of you step into the room, bowing to the emperor as he orders for you both to rise.

"Princess." he nods at you. "You have grown yet again."

You nod back. "I have."

"It is great to see." He nods. "Take a seat."

The both of you sit as the doors are shut, and you wait for the emperor to drink his tea.

"Did Jinshi tell you what we are discussing?"

"No." You shake your head.

"Jinshi wishes to marry Maomao." The emperor addresses the problem immediately, and you are reminded of Lady Ah-Duo.

"I am aware." You hum.

"Yet, he does not wish to break off your engagement."

"I am not as open minded to accept a second wife despite the allowance of a harem for the royal family." You chuckle dryly. "Besides. Jinshi only wishes for Maomao to be his wife."

"Yes. I only wish to be wed to Maomao."

"Well, Jinshi." The emperor sighs. "It's a shame, but we cannot break off your engagement to..."

"I am aware."

You hear something rustle again, and a flurry of footsteps rush outside of the door.

The servant yells.

"Maomao has been kidnapped!"

Somewhere in the distance, a rope snaps.

You are a girl You are just a girl You are just... a girl.

You get up and apologize for Jinshi's behavior as he runs out of the room to grab the servant to ask for details, and the emperor shakes his head. You hand Jinshi the seal of his army to him from your pocket, and you watch as he rushes off without a thank you. You stare at him bitterly and miss the way he turns back to look at you. Instead, you turn back to see the emperor staring at you pitifully, and you nod as you call for a maid to bring you into the bathhouse. You need a massage and a break. You need a moment to yourself. You need to relax. Your blood pressure was rising and you were struggling to gauge your importance.

You can say you know Jinshi does not care all you want, but living it is still a different experience.

So, as the maids leave you alone in the bathhouse, you cry, hurricane of tears breaking past your eyes as you cry into the bathwater, years of pain and anguish ricocheting off the walls as the birds outside the bathhouse fly away from your heartbreak. You are just a girl. Why does it have to be you? You are just a girl. You are a girl with no background or home or past but you are just a girl and you should not have to let the world be carried on your back just because you are a girl. You should not be defined by the feelings of a man who does not care about you. You are a girl. You are a simple girl who does not deserve anything that is happening to you.

You are a girl who was stolen from her family because the royal family desired a perfect empress. You are a girl who should not have to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders just because she was unfortunate enough to be picked for a job that did not suit her. Why did you have to be the one who has to fall in love with a man who does not love you back and be stuck being in love with him? He does not want you. He has made that clear enough. It does not matter if he would turn around to look at you one day. You would never be picked first.

You are just a girl.

You do not deserve any of this.

So, you stand up in the bathwater as it splashes with your movement, and you rearrange your robes into something moveable before you break past the doors of the bathhouse, footsteps heavy and undignified as you run through the pathing that you've stained with your sweat and love, past the gates that had welcomed you since birth, and you run, wind in your hair icing your scalp in the summer breeze, panting and gasping for air as you run through the streets and cry, losing a shoe on the way, tears still spilling past your eyes, mouth open to breathe, ignoring all the weird looks from the people on the streets as you run into the pathing in the forest and leave. You are free.

Free from the cage you had been locked in since birth, key left behind on the door as you end up somewhere you know will be better.

It does not matter to you anymore.

You are free.

冬

Jinshi does not know what prompts him to visit you when he returns with Maomao. Perhaps it was because of the pain on your face when he had run away from you in order to go save Maomao. Perhaps it had been the realization while saving Maomao that you had given him one of the only powers you held over him without hesitation. Perhaps you had just handed it to him because you wanted him to see you once he returned. Regardless of your mission, he visits you.

When Jinshi steps foot into your residence after saving Maomao, your maids are rushing around the palace yelling at one another.

"Jinshi-sama!" A maid catches him, grabbing onto his armor in a panicked state as he blinks down at her in surprise.

"What?"

"Do you know where the young madam went?!" She cries, genuine fear and worry leaking all over her face as her cheeks are red from the cold and running around. "We've been searching all over for her since she disappeared from the bathhouse while we weren't looking! She's been missing since your leaving, and we assumed that she would return since she had been visiting the streets more and more often and perhaps had gone to visit her parents' graves, but it has been long and she still has not returned! Do you know where she could be?!"

Jinshi furrows his brows.

Missing. You're missing. You are missing.

You, who did not step foot outside of the residence unless it was to have tea with the consorts, was missing.

"I do not know." Jinshi shakes his head. "Where does she frequent in the streets?"

"We sent maids, but they—"

"We finally found the madam's shoe!" A maid yells from the entrance, holding up something in her hand. "Come!"

The maids all crowd around her as she reveals your shoe, and Jinshi grimaces.

It is your shoe. Your shoe, muddied, bloodied, wet with water. Your shoe, that was typically a size too small.

The maids all grimace at the sight, staring up at Jinshi for confirmation.

"Keep searching. She must be there somewhere." He turns away, brows furrowed. "She could not have gotten very far. She has been nurtured by the palace, so surely she is somewhere within reach."

The maids scramble to look, the sun turning it morning, Jinshi searching with them, quietly praying that you would return once the sun did. The sun returns once, twice, and then too many to count with his hands. The sun returns time and time again, and you do not.

You do not, and the maids sent to the streets also come back with no avail.

Even with Maomao asking the lower-ranked maids, you do not return.

You are gone.

Whether it is you have passed or you are missing, it makes no difference.

You are gone.

"I shall prepare for her ceremony." He closes his eyes, brows furrowing.

That is all they need to hear.

春

You haunt every corner of Jinshi's life.

He moves into the residence you left behind shortly after your burial ceremony, and he brings everything with him. He touches nothing you arranged, only bringing his personal items and work, and he sits in your tearoom each afternoon to work on the papers handed to him by the emperor. He drinks your favorite tea because he finds himself slowly losing his sanity with each passing moment that you do not manage the residence.

He is fully capable, but he is just not as well-versed in it as you are.

It drains him more than he'd like. Maomao is still a maid despite the purchase of her as a consort, and he does not wish to overwhelm her. He still very much loves her, he believes, but he supposes losing a huge part of his childhood is even worse in some way. He had chosen to neglect you, but it did not mean he did not cherish you. He could not count the times when you had linked pinkies with him at formal events with the emperor and empress while the two of you stood tall all because you were to be a certain way at a certain place.

Eventually, the two of you had outgrown the need to hold hands or pinkies in official events.

Though, that wasn't the only thing he had to thank you for. He was not a gifted child. He watched you speed through the materials and still have time to play with him, and it made him bitter. He was bitter. You had always been groomed to be perfect and desirable, and it only made him despise you more. Perhaps he had avoided you because you were too put together and perfect. He did not despise you. He does not despise you. In fact, dare he say it, he might have even loved you and forced himself to bury it away.

He could not love you the way you deserved to be loved. You deserved the position of empress, not the position of a eunuch's wife. You did not deserve to be warped into the madness of the royal family in the way that you did. He had made the mistake with you, so he would not make the mistake with Maomao. His heart sours in his chest. Perhaps he had been a liar. He had only avoided you to avoid the pain in his heart. He had been a coward afraid of hurting you only to hurt you more. He is a coward.

He groans, head buried in his papers as Maomao comes in with his dinner.

"You look awful."

Jinshi shifts his head to the side to look at Maomao, closing his eyes again afterward. Her filter around him had disappeared ever since you had left. He does not know if he is thankful or not.

Things have changed since your disappearance.

The maids have all stopped referring to anyone as the madam of the house, only waiting for Maomao to officially give Jinshi an answer to his proposal, and Jinshi has become the master of the house, much different to when they referred to him as Jinshi-sama. He is no longer someone underneath you in the residence that he was to live in with you. He is now the only person who was given a proper status in a palace of such. He groans when he remembers that he has more paperwork. Perhaps you should have been given less to do in the residence.

"Still no news?" He grumbles.

"No." Maomao hums. "She would hate you if you starved yourself like this."

"She did not even know I skipped meals occasionally."

"She did." Maomao refutes. "All of your meals were looked over by her. Your meals had the highest nutrition out of all the meals."

"She did not do that." Jinshi sighs, getting out of your desk to sit at the table. "She did not do that for me."

"She did." Maomao sets the food before him. "It could have only been her. She was the one who let things in and out of the kitchen. She had your allergies memorized like the back of her hand."

"I was such an asshole to her." Jinshi groans.

"You were."

"You're supposed to comfort me as my betrothed!" Jinshi cries.

"I am not your betrothed." Maomao shrugs. "Please get back to work once you finish eating. Gaoshun is asking when this month's report will be ready."

"Please tell him his master is going to kill himself." Jinshi groans. "I can't even bring in an aide because this residence is so secretive."

"I may introduce someone to you." Maomao offers.

"You know people other than me? It cannot be a woman."

"It will not be." Maomao affirms.

Jinshi contemplates it. You had been bred and raised for the purpose of being an ideal wife, so you managed all the numbers and reports of your shared residence despite Jinshi being in charge of a handful of matters. They seemed trivial to him back then, but now that he has to wait for those numbers to reach him, he finds that perhaps you were going through much more than you letting him know about. Not even the maids would tell him how often you were holed up in your office.

Though, according to your maids, you had barely struggled with it, your estimations always on point, even when Jinshi handed you bills late.

For you to be so much better than Jinshi.

How infuriating of you.

夏

"Jinshi." Maomao speaks from the door. "I have brought a eunuch as your new assistant."

"I do not need one." He grumbles. "I am fine on my own."

"No. He is to help manage the estate." Maomao doesn't let him argue, opening the door to reveal his new aide.

The man nods at him, bowing his head. "I greet my new master. My name is Diu."

"There is no need for that." He shakes his head. "Are you well versed in the matters of the house?"

"There is no person who is better versed than I am." He nods. "I assure you."

Jinshi sighs. "Training shall start tomorrow."

"Yes, master."

Jinshi finds that his new aide is just as quick with numbers and things of the residence as you were, fingers fast and calculations smooth, speeding up the process for Jinshi. When he asks how he knew, he smiles at him, telling him that he had helped his wife with her household matters in order to alleviate the stress of being pregnant. Jinshi doesn't pry, but his aide looks too young to be a man capable of such wise thought. He looks too delicate, jaw too smooth and lashes too long. Had Jinshi been any more manic, he might have accused his aide of actually being a woman.

He tilts his head as he watches his aide look over the papers and speak up.

"Master Jinshi, do you have the scroll for the reimbursement report?"

Jinshi nods, handing him the scroll as Diu scribbles down the numbers, handing it to Maomao with a nod as she wanders off to hand it off to another official.

"Please call for me when the next report is due." Diu nods, about to follow her out.

"Are you not a personal aide?"

"I was told by Sister Maomao that I am only to help with the matters of the mansion."

"You... should arrange the guest rooms." Jinshi grumbles. "Please. Are you well versed in the other matters of the house?"

"I am." Diu nods. "Leave the matters of the estate to me."

"Maomao." Jinshi calls for her as she appears at the door. "Diu will be helping you with the affairs of decorating."

She nods. "Shall we go?"

"We shall." Diu smiles, and Jinshi's stomach churns uncomfortably.

He smiles the same way you do.

How nauseating.

How long had it been since you had smiled at him? You had only smiled at Maomao, lips curled into a teasing one, never staring at Jinshi when you had. Perhaps that was his flaw. He was cursed to see parts of you in other people until he could own up to his own emotions. Perhaps he was much too similar to you. Perhaps he is just a boy. Perhaps he just misses what you could have been had he spoken to you. Perhaps he should have reminded you that you were not alone.

You left him, but he forced you to the door, giving you the key you had been taught to never use.

Perhaps he had been the push to force you to leave.

How sickening.

秋

Jinshi finds that Maomao gets along with Diu much more than makes him comfortable.

Maomao discusses and lingers around Diu often, fingers brushing his skin as he leans down to let her wipe the fallen lash from his cheek, a flirty smile on his lips when she pulls away. Maomao does not react. She never does. Yet, it makes Jinshi uncomfortable. He no longer knows if it's how eerily similar Diu is to you or how Diu keeps making a move on Maomao, but it makes his skin crawl uncomfortably each time he comes to Maomao's aide, reprimanding you and reminding you to keep your hands off of her as she was his only love.

"My apologies."

It is the same thing over and over again.

Jinshi finds that the more Diu flirts with Maomao, the less he wants Maomao, his jealous streak overtaken by habituation, and eventually he finds himself just staring until the two are uncomfortable. Maomao seems far too comfortable with Diu's movements, and Jinshi finds it infuriating. So, Jinshi steps in one day, pulling on Diu's wrist as he cages Maomao into the wall.

"Perhaps the master would prefer for me to romance him instead?" Diu pins Jinshi to the wall instead, tilting his head with his fingers, lips curled into a teasing smile. Jinshi flushes red, a shudder rippling down his back at the sight of the shorter pining him to the wall. Maomao watches from the side in amusement, lips curled upward with a cheeky grin as Jinshi eyes her for help.

"My eyes are here, young master," Diu tilts his head again, lips curled into a sweet smile. "Cheating on me already? I'm your servant before I am hers, you know?"

Jinshi shudders, cheeks red as Diu turn to Maomao, a victorious smile on his face.

"Master, it is time for..." Gaoshun trails off, pulling Diu off of Jinshi. "What are you doing?!"

"The master got jealous I was hitting on Maomao." Diu smiles.

Jinshi leaves, glancing behind him at Diu, heart racing in his chest as he tries to calm his cheeks. He is breathtaking, that eunuch. His aide has a beauty that could rival his. He would stop interfering. If he were to get hit on again... heavens knows what kind of atrocities he would commit. Diu is too strong. No wonder the maids in the palace had been flocking to get a look at his face. Maybe that was why he was dethroned as one of the most attractive men in the court. Diu was simply too attractive for his own good.

God, maybe he is a homosexual.

The thought rips through his body as his lips pull down in concern, blinking slowly at the revelation. Damn. Has he stooped this low? Was he willing to go so low as to fall for a man who reminded him of you? Maybe Jinshi was losing his mind. Perhaps this is what the matchmaker meant by he would suffer greatly if he were to lose his yin. He had tried not to touch you, but he had only hurt you instead. He was losing his mind to the point that he was getting flustered over men.

Diu really does things to him. You do things to him.

The man's fingers remind Jinshi of yours as well, reminders of years that are lost in his memory, years when the two of you would hold hands under tables and before the empress, years when he would watch you practice dances with your teachers, hair fluttering in the wind as you moved like a princess. It reminds him of years when you would be able to fit in your shoe size and walk without pain, when you were still young and a child, crying about not wanting to bind your feet.

You got your wish, but your shoe size had still been shrunk one size down to try and prevent your feet from growing.

Sooner than later, you lost your ability to dance.

Jinshi wonders if Diu would be able to do it. His body is slim enough for the dance, and had he been there when the foreign envoys were visiting, perhaps he could have taken Jinshi's place. Swimming in the dress was a nightmare. Perhaps Diu could have worked the same. He has the face for it. Oh, how convenient. Jinshi would no longer need to dress up as a woman with Diu around.

"The next time we have to do female imitation... we are calling Diu." Jinshi shudders.

Gaoshun raises a brow.

Jinshi shakes his head.

Perhaps if Jinshi were desperate enough, he could doll Diu up to resemble you and hold him for the night. As long as the words did not get out, he would be alright. If he were desperate enough, he would sleep in your room, covered by your blanket, engulfed by your faded scent. The scent of summer flowers and a young love. If Jinshi were desperate enough, he could send more soldiers to find you. But Jinshi is not desperate enough.

Not yet. He is not desperate enough yet.

He may be sick to his head thinking about you, but he is not desperate.

冬

There is a crowd of consorts outside of Jinshi's window.

No. Not for him, surprisingly. For Diu.

"Diu-sama!! Look our way!!" The women yell, and Diu looks up from his desk, a smile on his face, waving gently. Both Jinshi and Maomao grimace, frown on their faces at his friendliness. Jinshi finds that Diu has an effect worse than he does. Perhaps this is his karma for playing along with the consorts every now and then. No wonder Maomao found him infuriating when he did so.

"Diu." Maomao hisses.

The man nods, leaning out the window to smile at the women, sighing. "Do you mind giving us some space? We need to finish the report for this month and my master is having quite the moment, you know?"

A girl faints, but the rest of them ultimately scatter off, and you hum, shutting the window.

"The total has been written down."

Maomao hands Jinshi a scroll, and Jinshi nods.

"Diu, is there a reason you never write the reports?"

"Whatever do you mean? I wrote them during summer, no?" You tilt your head. "Master Jinshi, you told me to stop writing them because my writing was not legible."

Jinshi does not remember that, but doesn't argue.

"Let's go for a break today." You pull Maomao out of her seat, smiling at Jinshi. "Master, will you be joining us?"

Jinshi groans. "please."

Diu offer him a hand, and he takes it, his hand strangely familiar in his grasp. It makes him feel nostalgic, almost. It feels like when he used to hold your hand during ceremonies with the royal court. Yet, he is not you. Diu is not you. So, Jinshi pushes the feelings back as he is led through the streets, lights vibrant as he stops at stalls for snacks and food.

Maomao runs out of coins at one point, and Diu offers him more, but she shakes head. She has some things she could trade for coins. She does so, pulling a pin out of her pocket and exchanging it for a bag of coins, a grin on his face. "let's get going."

"What do you even need so many coins for?" Diu raises a brow, picking one up.

"Master doesn't have copper coins."

"Excuse you! I do!" Jinshi tries to argue.

"It's why he has not yet bought anything."

Diu purses his lips in amusement, laughing.

Jinshi thinks he sounds like bells ringing.

How nostalgic.

Almost as if you were there standing there before him. He misses you, perhaps. He misses what the two of you were, and what you could have been had he picked you first. The guilt eats at him more and more, and it seems as though he could open his mouth and confess that he had a burning desire for you. It was almost as if he could have picked you from the start and none of this would have occurred.

"Diu." Jinshi calls. "Are you married?"

"Why? In love with me already, master?" Diu winks, blowing him a kiss.

Jinshi shudders, cheeks red, head ringing. Flirt.

"No. You have the same mannerisms as someone, and many say that a husband resembles his wife." Jinshi shakes his head. "You remind me of someone."

"The one that got away? I will be." Diu laughs as Maomao grabs him and runs off as Jinshi chases them. "Perhaps that is simply my role in this narrative!"

You.

Diu reminds him of you. So Jinshi finds it ironic that he chases after a man who resembles you in the streets of the city outside of the palace walls. Perhaps the two of you would have done something similar in another universe. He would have chased you in the streets, and the two of you would have been free to do whatever without the weight of the palace. Perhaps you would have been worth more in your own eyes, and he would have cared more for you during the time you would have been with him.

Perhaps you would have chosen to stay with him in that universe.

Perhaps he would be less bitter then, too.

春

In spring, the silkworms produce new silk, and the products from the merchants come in. Jinshi observes them, ultimately unable to tell the difference between certain ones because of his lack of practice, and Maomao can only stand and blink, unused to picking them herself. Instead, she steps back for Diu to look at them, the man's fingers feeling at the fabric as he raises a brow.

"These seem to be cheap quality. Are you trying to rip off the palace?" The man raises a brow.

"N-no way!"

"The threading is different one from the one currently present." Diu clicks his tongue. "This is the one commonly used for the middle class."

"A-are you not middle class? The funds mentioned to me a-are less than before." The merchant cowers slightly as Maomao hands Diu the invoice.

"No. The funding has not changed this season."

"Ah, well, surely the inflation has—"

"Nope. The economic state of the capital has not changed either. If you want a couple extra coins just say it." Diu groans. "We can always change suppliers. My family has quite the good one, you know?"

The merchant rolls his eyes. "These are the same blankets as the rest of the palace. If you don't want them—"

Maomao steps up. "The empress uses different ones from a different supplier. Had we needed low-quality textiles as this, we would have talked to the maids."

The merchant scoffs in offense. "What do you know—"

"I know that the palace uses a different supplier because you started cheating the main palace years ago." Diu speaks up, stepping close to the merchant. "Would you like us to switch too? We could formally decree you to be banned from the palace."

"Y-you're a mere servant. You wouldn't dare!"

Diu gives the man a closed-eye smile, and he grumbles, handing over the better blankets buried under the bad ones. The servants bring them in as Diu handles the money, and Jinshi blinks in surprise. He did not know the rest of the palace started using a new supplier. He had only known that Gyokuyou had changed merchants. Diu must have done very thorough research prior to picking up blankets.

"How could you tell?" Jinshi raises a brow.

"It wasn't imperfectly perfect." Diu shrugs. "Also, hand woven silk by the skilled is bound to have flaws, but this one had too many. They may have flaws, but their edges do not fray to this extent."

"Wow." Jinshi hums. "That is impressive."

"In order to be a husband deserving of my wife's noble title, I have to make up in other ways."

"Does your wife not have brothers?"

"No, she simply fell for my charm." Diu winks.

Maomao gags from the side. Though... not surprising.

"A shame you are a eunuch..." Jinshi trails off, eyes wandering. "You seem to be the type to have many sons."

Diu holds a hand over his mouth and his crotch, pretending to be scandalized. "Master! Are you... into me?"

"Nope." Jinshi turns on his heel. "Let us go."

"Where to?" Maomao follows anyway, shrugging when Jinshi doesn't answer Diu's question.

"Who did you hear palace affairs from?"

"I was wandering." Diu shrugs.

It's suspicious, but Jinshi doesn't pry further. After all, Maomao brought him in.

No matter how much Diu is suspicious, Jinshi could never bring you back anyway.

So even if Jinshi begged and sobbed and cried to the moon to return his lover, he could not have it. You had left him. You were gone. No matter how hard he looked, your body could be out in the cold and abandoned, eaten by the wolves or some other sort. It is awful. He could search all he wanted, sending all the guards he wanted, but he would not have you back. He could not live in such a way. You were gone, only your shoe left.

Perhaps Diu was sent by the heavens to remind him of you for the rest of his days.

It is his fault, after all.

夏

There are reports of your ghost haunting the walls.

First, one of the younger ranking maids hear a girl crying in your old room, then an older maid sees a woman rush through the halls at night. Eventually Gaoshun spots a woman clothed in white dancing on the outer walls with Maomao. It is truly a terrifying sight. Jinshi tries his best to ignore it, but ultimate he sees you dancing on the outer walls of the palace as well. It is same position of the moon when Gaoshun and Maomao saw it, but you are dressed in red this time, wedding gown fluttering from your figure, phoenix crown pinned in your hair.

Jinshi stands and stares.

You dance, footsteps light as they used to be when you were but a child and Jinshi watched you in your classes, and your dress flutters in the wind, silk probably cool against your skin, and Jinshi stops to stare, some wretched form of longing on his face. It is nostalgic. It is everything he had once seen in you, your art, your beauty, your existence, all tucked into the back of his mind, threatening to spill over and ruin him. He watches you as you make the same steps you had so many years ago, your memory burning into his mind through his eyes as his conscious forces him to engrain every detail of your ghost into his mind.

The paleness of your skin to the sunken eyelids, to the bloody red that was on your lips with the red on your body. The makeup is fitting of a bride, yet the moon shining behind your body makes you look a mixture of grief and regret in Jinshi's eyes. You do not look down at him, almost as though lost in your own dance, too enthralled with the moon and its secrets as you kick your leg to spin and flutter through the air. Jinshi can do nothing as he look sup at you, exhaustion creeping up his body slowly, almost as though you were the moon herself despite the red on your body.

Your ghost is haunting him as a reminder that you are his wife. Your ghost is dancing to remind him of the day the two of you had been told to bed, but had not. Your ghost is driving him into a corner the same way he had driven you out the entrance. His mind is stuck staring and engraving it into his mind to forever regret you. His mind is stuck holding his chin up to stare at you as the metal in your hair jingles in the wind. His mind is stuck, and he refuses to fight against it.

Instead of stopping you, he stares, fingers stuck to his side as you spin and fall off the wall, and he climbs up, lashes fluttering as he stares down at where you would have fallen, only your dress remaining. He stares down, legs hanging from the wall, something pulling him to fall down with you, something urging him to leave with you. Your ghost tilts its head to run your fingers through his hair, lips brushing his as it urges him to fall down with it— fall down with you. Maybe that would be a way to right his wrongs and wash away his sins. He leans forward into your touch, fingers loosening on the wall.

"Master." Diu's voice breaks him from your trance, the man climbing up the wall after him. "Is something wrong?"

Jinshi blinks at where your ghost was, your fingers no longer on his cheek and your lips no longer brushing his. Ghosts do not exist. He was simply falling to an evil spirit's intentions. Diu had simply freed him. You would not have wanted him to pass away as easily as this. You would have wanted him to suffer through what you did. "I saw the madam."

"The previous owner of the residence?"

"Something like that." Jinshi mumbles. "Do you miss your wife?"

"More often than not." Diu sits next to the man, pulling out a bottle. "Wine?"

Jinshi accepts it, pressing the wine to his lips, legs hanging over the railing as he stares down, blinking slowly at the fabric. Your ghost is gone, yet the fabric still reaches for him. He could see you wearing it. Perhaps it was just a heavy memory of seeing you in all red, gold embroidery on your gown, lips pulled into a sweet smile despite the ever crumbling relationship that was threatening to snap between the two of you. Perhaps Jinshi had a rope somewhere as well.

"How do you cope with missing your wife?"

"She writes me letters." Diu smiles. "I simply reread them when I get lonely. Or, I send a bird for her."

Jinshi grumbles. "Must be nice to have a loving wife."

"A happy marriage goes both ways, master." Diu offers him more. "You must take care of your wife before she takes care of herself and leaves you."

"Do you think someone is doing this to mess with me?" Jinshi rests his cheek on his legs, pulling them closer to his chest as he holds his cup to the man. "I grieve for her loss. Is that not enough?"

"Perhaps they simply miss their madam." Diu hums. "Did the madam teach the servants?"

"There is no servant in the house who could dance the same way she did." Jinshi closes his eyes, wind rustling the branches behind him. The summer breeze is warm but not too warm. In the distance, in the residence, he can still hear the sound of your laughter as a child. You did not laugh enough as an adult around him. He does not know what you are. What does your laughter sound like now? Maybe you stopped laughing because of him.

He misses you.

"Master?"

"Diu." Jinshi mumbles, eyes closed. "If she comes, please wake me."

"Will do, master."

You never return after that, and Jinshi feels sick.

秋

In fall, foreign envoys bring new mirrors. Diu accepts them and lead them to Jinshi, lips curled into a sweet smile as the mirrors are placed within the residences. The old mirrors had been ruined by a maid on accident, but it was not something worth fretting or worrying over. Jinshi stands in front of the mirror, looking at himself, raising a brow when Maomao and Diu peer from behind him at the reflection.

"I have not seen one in a solid minute." Maomao mumbles. "Diu, how about you?"

"My wife has one at home, but this small mirror would be helpful." Diu hums. "She will like it if we have a covering made for her as well."

Jinshi huffs dramatically loud at the word wife.

"What is not too light?" Maomao raises a brow.

"Perhaps a hollow metal." Diu hums. "I shall check the items she owns."

Jinshi huffs again.

"Sorry, master." Diu smiles, eyes closed, teeth out. "I forgot the madam is gone."

Jinshi is going to have an aneurysm because of Diu.

"I am convinced you are mentioning your wife to drive me insane."

"Perhaps." Diu hums. "I miss her very much, after all."

"Then why did you work here?"

"Master." Diu deadpans. "The pay here is incredible. My wife now has the ability to spend my wealth rather than her family's. Is every husband's dream not to spoil their wife rotten?"

"No." Jinshi grumbles. "Perhaps I should do that for the madam."

"The madam is gone." Maomao deadpans. "Perhaps focus on repainting the walls of the residence first."

"Was the report sent?"

"Not yet." Diu shakes his head. "We are missing a fund as the money has grown to be less."

"Perhaps it is for the repainting of the walls."

"I would assume that the repainting must be done during spring." Jinshi frowns. "Was it during fall?"

"I am not sure." Diu shakes his head. "Did the madam ever mention such?"

"It was fall." Maomao hums. "She complained that it should have been spring once, but she never changed it since it rains more in spring than in fall."

"How do the foreigners put it? April showers do bring May's flowers." Diu hums. "Perhaps the Madam had a reason."

"We can repaint it some other time."

"She would kill you." Maomao deadpans.

"She is not here."

"Does not change that she would kill you." Maomao deadpans. "Perhaps her ghost will return and ruin your life again."

Jinshi pauses. "Well, I do miss her."

Maomao blinks at him in concern.

"I shall put it on the report." Diu nods. "Anything else?"

"I believe that is it."

"Then, may I be released after? I would like to drop by somewhere."

Maomao raises a brow, but Jinshi does not question it.

"Of course. You are free for the rest of the day."

Maomao springs up in her seat. "May I follow?"

Diu nods.

"Going without me?"

"You will stand out too much." Diu deadpans. "We are visiting a teahouse."

"You have a wife!?" Jinshi shrieks, confusion all over his face.

"Not that kind." Diu deadpans.

"What will you be trying?"

"I heard they have a new treat." Maomao hums. "We have been saving for it."

"If you let me go I will pay."

"Hard pass." The two of them grimace.

"We don't lack the funds."

"We can pay."

Jinshi gasps, frowning as he watches the two leave the room when Diu finishes the report.

A plate of the new pastries rests on his desk the next day, but he still pouts and frowns.

He later realizes it's because you had once made the treat for him as kids. That was why he was so upset. Your memories with him haunted him each step he took in the mansion. Perhaps he should have reached for your ghost that day and fallen. Perhaps that would have sped up his fraying string, holding onto nothing as he had lost you.

Perhaps then, he would feel less awful.

冬

In winter, Diu and Maomao help set up the new blankets. The wool is warm, and Maomao sighs, cheeks red from the cold. Diu takes off his coat, wrapping it around Maomao as she blows into her hands and sighs.

"Thank you." She mumbles. "It is cold."

"It is." Diu stares at the floor, pulling out a stone from his pocket to hand to Maomao. "A heated stone, perhaps?"

"Thank you." She mumbles, pulling her clothes open to pop the stone in with the rest. "It is cold. I do not remember the palace being this cold."

Diu goes quiet, glancing around.

"There used to be heated bricks underneath the wood here."

Maomao's eyes widen, neck snapping to look at her coworker.

"That was what I heard from the maids, though. I do not believe the maids told the master either." He shrugs. "How's the master?"

"It is report week." Maomao grimaces.

Diu shudders. "I am surprised he has not called for me yet."

"You remind him too much of the late madam." She shares a look with the man, only turning away when Jinshi yells from inside his office. "He prefers to not—"

"Someone call Diu!" He sobs, and Diu snorts.

"Late madam or not, perhaps desperate situations call for desperate measures." Diu nods, knocking on the door. "Master, I am outside."

The door opens, and Jinshi groans. "Diu! Why is this season's reimbursement report so much lower compared to the previous ones?!"

Jinshi's hair is disheveled, the poor man looking as though he hadn't slept in days. It is a new look to Diu, and it makes Maomao laugh. Diu steps next to him, observing the differences, pointing at the cost in insulation. "I heard from the maids the late madam heated bricks for winter underneath the wood."

"She did?"

"The maids mentioned it." Diu shrugs. "So?"

"Is that the only cost? Who is in charge of the bricks?"

"I am not aware." Diu shakes his head.

"The head maid refuses to tell me. Diu, please." Jinshi cries. "I am not well versed in this."

"In my residence, my wife would hire one of the servants to do so. Perhaps it could be found in their salaries."

Jinshi flips through the book as Diu checks everything over, and he cheers when he finds the maid. Jinshi misses you. You did this much better than he did, and though he had neglected you and the whole situation was his fault, it did not stop him from missing you. Your presence in the residence had simply been enough to him. Now, he had to live without you or your presence in a residence that was meant for two.

"Thank you, Diu." Jinshi grumbles, writing down the note on heating bricks, head slamming into the wood of your desk as Diu takes the report. "God, I miss her."

Diu smiles back, eyes closed, almost as though he were insincere.

In the shadow of Diu, Jinshi sees you.

That smile with his eyes closed reminded him of all the times you had smiled at the officials insincerely, abusing your power as the empress' favorite in order to get them rid of. Perhaps Jinshi is simply going insane because you are gone. The ghost of you haunts him everywhere, including in the body of the new aide. Perhaps it is simply divine punishment from the heavens above.

In the closed-eyed, tight-lipped smile of his new aide, he sees the ghost of you whose smile had changed from a sweet smile with your eyes on him, cheeks flushed, to a smile in which you had not even bothered to look at him, eyes closed and lips pulled upward, lacking the flush that he had grown up seeing. His fault. It is always his fault. There had not been a single moment in which he was right when it had come to you. He is to be despised. You had been right to run away. He will never deserve the love you had given him in the past.

Even if he were to cut his own string and tie it to yours, you could always cut him off of you, simply running away as you had previously. Perhaps it was simply his curse to be this way. He could never love you now that you were gone, and he was the only one to blame. He is the culprit of his own demise.

How loathsome of him.

春

In spring, Jinshi attends the royal court's meeting, lashes thick and full, blinking quickly to blink away his exhaustion. Waking up before the sun was never something worth it. He eats the dishes prepared, listening to the ministers and eunuchs talk about everything. Had you been next to him, he would have had a better time, at least focused for the sake of you, but you are not. Instead, he has Diu who has been testing his dishes, pretty face charming even the married men of the court. Had Diu been born a woman, perhaps he would have been stolen away instantly. Tis a great day for his personal aide to be a man.

Now that Jinshi thinks about it, it was the same with you.

You would be busy reading the material and participating, and the rest of the men would be busy ogling at you. You, who had been raised to be the palace flower, a woman in power worthy of standing next to the second prince. You had been worth far more than what those men could have paid to own you for. Perhaps the late empress was right to make you unattainable to the men of the court. It was disgusting— the way their eyes raked Diu's figure the same way they raked yours at the time. In his eyes, the men are no better than rabid animals. At least rabid animals were put down.

"Master?" Diu's voice snaps Jinshi out of his thoughts. "Is the dish not to your liking?"

"It is." Jinshi shakes his head. "I have not much an appetite."

"I see." Diu hums. "Shall I request something else?"

"No need." Jinshi finishes the rest of the dish, sighing as he puts his chopsticks down. "What is the next dish?"

"I believe it is pheasant."

Jinshi frowns staring at Diu's lips.

"Did Maomao put lipstick on you?"

"Hm? Is it strange?" Diu smiles, holding his cheek. "She said I should doll up a little as your personal attendant. Though, this isn't lipstick. I believe Maomao simply put something on my face."

Jinshi blinks slowly, mentally swatting away all his thoughts as the next dish arrives and Diu presses it to his lips, biting and chewing slowly. Jinshi stares at his lips, pale and pink, and he swallows unconsciously as Diu licks his lips, lips curled into a smile similar to Maomao's. The men of the court pay attention too, a strange charm emitting off of the servant's body. Enthralling. He looked enthralling, lips curled into that sinful grin. Next thing Jinshi knows, Diu is probably going to tell him it's poisonous like Maomao did years ago.

"You can't have this, master." He hums.

"Why not?" Jinshi swallows, throat dry all of a sudden.

"It is poisonous."

Called it.

The royal court goes into chaos as all the men spit it out, fooled by the way Diu had looked so elated at the flavor, and a handful of servants rush to their aid. Jinshi lunges at Diu as he bites the rest of the meat, punching him in the gut as Diu spits the meat out into Jinshi's hand.

"Are you crazy?!"

"Master, poisons do not affect me." Diu tilts his head, eyes wide. "Rest assured. The one who has tried to harm you will not get off free either."

Jinshi stares at him incredulously, lips pulled into a frown as he calls for a doctor to check the man. He taps his table impatiently as he waits for Diu to return, a new poison tester confirming that the pheasant was indeed poisonous. Jinshi watches as the new guy passes out and white foams from his mouth. How did... how did Diu almost swallow the pheasant without issue? Jinshi tries his best not to think about it, closing his eyes. Perhaps Maomao is just accustomed to people who taste poison without any effects.

Diu returns a little before the final dish is served, giving Jinshi a closed-eyed smile before he tastes the new dish. It is a palate cleanser this time. Jinshi watches in worry as Diu presses the spoon to his lips, eyes opening as he raises a brow. Jinshi cannot tell if it is a good raised brow or a bad one.

"Servant, is it poison?"

"No." Diu smiles. "It is simply delicious. You may have it, master."

Jinshi only has half, cheeks flushed as he hands the rest back to Diu, covering his mouth with his sleeve as he mouthes words at the man.

'Finish the rest.'

Diu does not complain, drinking straight from the bowl as he licks his lips, eyes bright and happy as he hands it to another servant.

"Thank you, master." He beams, smiling.

Jinshi's heart skips a beat.

How dangerous.

The rest of the court proceeds as normal, the report given by the workers, and the emperor nodding at the report. Nothing out of the ordinary. though, he notes the new numbers in spending. When you were there, they were lower. Perhaps a handful of officials are using the chance to steal money from the royal family now that you no longer look over the ledger before each payment. Jinshi should start investigating. Surely the crushing of the Shi clan should have served as a fair warning. Perhaps not.

Jinshi looks back to glance at Diu, the servant's eyes oddly sharp. Usually servants would have gotten bored at this point. Instead, Diu looks almost intrigued. He wonders what kind of an upbringing would have created a man who cared so much about monetary affairs of a palace. Though, it should have been clear since Diu had been the one hired to help with monetary affairs. His mathematical ability was incredible. Had Jinshi a child, he would have hired the man to teach his young his ways.

But in the same, Jinshi knows he would have not needed an outside teacher when you were right there. Should he had kids with you, you could cover the vast majority of teaching have you the time. You know the palace better than him at times. He wonders how you are, lips pulled into a frown as he focuses back on the minister. Perhaps Maomao had given Diu the same makeup you used to wear to mess with him. How mean of her. It pains him in the heart that he had been the one to cut your rope and now was burning his own.

He misses you.

夏

Summer is great.

Jinshi has less work during summer as a result, and Diu and Maomao cover the affairs of rearranging the residence. The two are still close. It makes Jinshi bitter, but not bitter in the way he would have been seasons ago, he is bitter that Diu is spending less and less time with him. Perhaps he is bitter that Diu, a man who reminded him of you, spends more time with Maomao than he. It is a reflection of himself, yes, but it does not stop the childish jealously that bubbles in his chest.

"Diu!" Jinshi whines, calling for the servant as he throws open the man's room.

The room is empty, but a familiar scent flutters through the air, knocking the nostalgia right into his lungs. The incense sticks burning are the ones you used to put in the residence. During the few times Jinshi would visit, this scent would always be present in your room, your hair, and your being. This scent was you to him. He finds it strange that Diu would have it in his room, but he does not question it. Perhaps it reminds him of his wife.

"Master? What are you doing in my room?"

Jinshi freezes, caught red-handed. "...I was looking for you." He coughs. "Where were you?"

"I went to run errands with Maomao." Diu bows. "Is something wrong? You were looking at the incense sticks."

"They remind me... anyway." Jinshi tries to stroll out casually. "Is that your favorite scent?"

"My wife." Diu smiles. "It reminds me of my wife."

"I see..." Jinshi trails off. "Whatever! Be sure to tell Maomao to bring me dinner."

Diu calls an affirmative after Jinshi as he rushes out of the room. Too much like you. The scent smelled too much like you. You, who had used perfume oils because you liked it. It reminded Jinshi of your scent for as long as he had known you, the signature smell that brushed his nose apparent for as long as his memories with you would run. Perhaps he would forget about you at night.

Night strikes slowly.

The grief of losing you hits Jinshi slowly.

First, he looks around the room you had prepared for the two of you, the room you had stayed in alone, fingers brushing on the paint on the wall, a reminder that he needed to call for the painters to repaint the residence. Then, he sits down in bed, robes warm on his skin, eyes tired as he lays down. His fingers brush the silk the same way you would have while inspecting the quality, the same way he had seen Diu do so to the blankets, and he holds it to his forehead, heart stuttering and stumbling, pain in his chest too much to bear. It was simply too much.

Then, he cries.

Jinshi cries, tears slow as he lays in your bed, holding the blankets to his chest as he whimpers, missing you. You. You who had lived in the residence for years without a visit from him. He is undeserving of you. Perhaps he would be cursed to live the rest of his days crying in the same bed you had to cry in. He would be dammed for all of eternity to never see you again. Perhaps that is his curse. He is simply too weak to admit his love, too prideful to bend down first, too lost to find his way again. He wanted nothing to do with you when you traded the whole world for him. His curse would be to never hold you again, even when he needed you the most.

He sniffles, brows pulled together as he clings harder onto the blanket.

He does not notice the footsteps outside the door nor the knocking from Diu.

"Master Jinshi? Are you alright? I hear crying." Diu's voice rings from the door. "I may bring tea if you would allow it. That helps me when I am hurt."

"It is fine." He speaks, voice oddly even.

"I shall bring you a cup of tea and towel to help freshen up. We could not afford to let the master of the house's beauty be wounded." Diu speaks, stepping and walking off.

Jinshi wipes his tears with his fingers, heaving. When Diu returns, he opens the door after a quick knock, setting the tea on the table as he sits by his bed, helping Jinshi up, eyes gentle, hands wiping at his tears with the cloth, and Jinshi sniffs. Diu's eyes remind him of yours, even. The same gentle shade he had grown up seeing, the same shade that sparkled under the sun's light or the moon's reflection. It is a haunting memory of you. Perhaps the two of you are from the same lineage. Or perhaps Jinshi was simply losing it.

"Diu."

"Yes, master?"

"Are you this gentle with your wife?"

"But of course."

Jinshi sighs dramatically. "Maybe in another life I was born your wife."

Diu snorts. "That would be quite hard, master."

"Why?"

"What if I were born a woman as well?"

"Then I would be born your husband." He pouts, eyes red as he stares at the man. "What tea did you bring?"

"Green tea." Diu hums. "Will you drink it?"

"Please." Jinshi frowns. "Could I meet your wife one day?"

"That would be quite hard." Diu frowns, carrying the tray over and setting it down by the bed.

"Why so?"

Diu does not speak, handing the cup to Jinshi instead, smiling.

"Is she gone?"

"It is hard to explain." Diu hums. "Master, let me know if you require anything else."

"No." Jinshi shakes his head, drinking the tea. It's slightly sweet and brewed to perfection.

It tastes like the tea you used to brew.

It brings tears to his eyes unconsciously, a frown on his face. You had learned to brew tea to perfection. The temperature had been right, you had served them in their little cups, lips pressed to the edge of the cup as you tested it for heat, and then set it before Jinshi, offering him a drink. You had brewed green tea without the bitterness that other consorts had, and you had served tea to even the emperor when it was permitted. Jinshi might just be losing it. No, he has not been in a regular state since your disappearance. He is simply reaping the seeds of his actions.

"Is something wrong?"

"You brew tea like someone I used to know." Jinshi shakes his head. "It is a shame she is gone."

"Maomao is not gone, though?"

"My wife." Jinshi purses his lips. He had mentioned it perhaps once or twice, but it had never been more than that. It is not the madam of the house this time, it is his wife. He misses his wife. You, his beloved who had been betrothed to him. He misses you. You were his wife, not his betrothed. He had seen you in red twice now, that was surely confirmation. Even if you were to forget, he fears that he could not. You are his wife, that much is clear. "That is enough for the night. Thank you."

Diu nods, taking the tray out and closing the door with his foot, leaving Jinshi alone with his thoughts.

It is scary— how much Diu resembles you.

Perhaps your ghost is really haunting him through his aide.

秋

"Maomao." Jinshi hisses.

"Yes, Master Jinshi?" The girl turns to look at him.

"Where did you find Diu? He seems as though he yields from an elite family, yet there are no records of him anywhere." Jinshi raises a brow. "He is far too trained in arithmetic to be from a middle-class family as well."

"Oh, his family records were burned." Maomao shrugs. "He helped me once when I was about to be scammed by a merchant, so I decided to pay him back by employing him. He is good, is he not?"

"He is, but it is highly suspicious." Jinshi grumbles. "Who is his wife?"

"I have never met her."

Jinshi blinks. "You know nothing about him other than that he is good at math and has a wife, and you hired him?"

"Master Jinshi, he is not good at just math." Maomao argues. "She—"

"She?"

"I mean," Maomao sighs. "He is good at arranging the interior of the residence, is he not? He is highly trained in both what the women wield and what the men do. I hired him because he was capable in such areas. Are you doubting my loyalty? I value my head, you know? Diu is a great servant."

"That cannot be refuted, but—"

"I heard my name." Diu flicks Maomao's forehead. "And heard myself get misgendered. I am a man, Maomao. Must you hurt my pride further? I am already a eunuch. My poor wife will never get to experience penetrative pleasure from me because of the profession I have taken."

"Do you have children?" Jinshi raises a brow.

"No, master." Diu shakes his head. "My wife and I are perfectly content with no children. After all, I married into my wife's family."

"Oh, so you yield from nothing?" Jinshi interrogates, leaning onto his palm as he stares the man down.

"Yes." Diu nods. "I yield from nothing. Apart from my wife, I am nothing."

"Suspicious."

"Master." Maomao sighs.

Jinshi holds a hand up to signal for her to stop speaking. "Are you sure you do not yield from money?"

"I do not." Diu nods.

"Then why did Maomao call you a she?"

"Perhaps because I am pretty as one?" Diu winks at Jinshi, blowing a kiss.

Maomao hunches over in laughter as Jinshi fans his face.

"Fair point."

"You are gorgeous too, master." Diu hums. "Pretty like the lilies in the pond... dazzling like the stars in the sky. Surely, if you were a woman, the men would flock to your like bees to a flower."

Jinshi takes a moment to recover, holding his hand up. "The same would go to you, Diu."

"They already do." Diu hums. "I have submitted the report for the season."

"That is good." Jinshi sighs. "Maomao, do not hire random people from the street next time. I am starting to believe you only hired Diu because he is attractive."

"Attractive people need an attractive servants." Maomao shrugs.

Jinshi can't argue with that one.

"Or, perhaps similar people tend to flock to one another." Diu hums, picking up the flower pot with ease.

"Or haunt each other." Maomao mumbles, nodding as the two of them leave the room with the flowers.

It does not take two people to arrange flowers.

Yet, Jinshi pays attention to Maomao's words.

Haunt. Similar people haunt each other.

Maybe that is why he sees you in Diu.

冬

Jinshi finishes the affairs for the day, groaning and rolling his shoulders back as he returns to your office, expecting the rest of his papers to still be there. Instead, he finds Maomao knocked out on the tea table, a finished stack of paper next to her, completed and only left behind for him to sign and seal. He takes the papers, reading through the contents, writing eerily similar. You are not here, yet the writing mirrors yours perfectly. It is your writing down to the bone. It is the same writing that he had read in your reports and invoices for the residence's monthly fees. Furthermore, it was not Maomao's handwriting.

Something is wrong.

The writing is yours. You are present in the mansion. You had danced on the walls, haunted his life, brewed him tea, and done so many things to him. It was not your ghost. You were there to haunt him. It infuriates him to no end, but you had to have a hand in the residence to be able to do so. You may not be there physically, but surely someone would have been sent to do the dirty work for you. There seems to be someone new doing the dirty work for him, and who else than his new aide? Perhaps this was some twisted divine punishment in the worst way. Perhaps he would not see the end of the world as he knows it, and you would crawl out of your grave to wrap your fingers around his ankle and drag him to hell with you.

Or perhaps Diu was out for revenge on your behalf.

"Hm?" Maomao wakes up first, jumping in her skin when he stares into her eyes harshly.

There are three people in the residence allowed to write reports.

"Who is Diu."

It is not a question. A command. It is a command.

Maomao stares into Jinshi's eyes, sighing, clicking her tongue in disdain.

"I shall rid of him."

"No. Who is he. Answer." Jinshi curses out. "You brought him in. Who is he."

"I owed him a debt so I hired him." Maomao speaks. "It is that simple."

"Who is he."

"Someone you lost."

"Master!" A maid calls. "Come out to the entrance! There is a maid claiming she knows the madam's whereabouts!"

Jinshi glares at Maomao, pointing down to make sure she stays put.

Maomao watches Jinshi rush out, and she sighs, taking the ointment from her pocket. Now to find you. No way in hell she was listening to him in this situation.

Jinshi meets the maid, and he sees through her immediately. A ploy. This is a ploy. This is some cruel set up by fate who wishes for him to be miserable, and the maid did not know where you were at all. Maomao did. Maomao probably knew exactly where you were, and she had probably known for a while now. He was foolish not to realize it, but he knows it now. He is no longer mad, simply exhausted. He misses you. How he wishes you would just appear out of nowhere. That would fix him.

Jinshi looks up when he hears something above.

Something snaps.

冬

Your lips quirk up from the roof, humming as your voice returns to normal and Maomao wipes the makeup off your face. Your brows are less bushy and your lips turn more delicate. Your lashes remain the same, and you thread your fingers through your hair, smiling as Maomao stares down at the random woman. Talk about timing.

You're sure Jinshi is somewhat aware by now.

You stand up, the tiles clattering under your feet, and you laugh as you stretch your arms above your head, catching the way the woman at the gate pales in horror at the sight of you on the roof. Maomao sits behind you, same wind in her hair, leaning on her palm as you look down at Jinshi with a brow raised, Diu's clothes still on your body. Jinshi's eyes widen as he yells for you, leaving the other woman.

"With that, your debt is paid." You smile at Maomao. "I'll see you around, Maomao."

Maomao watches as you jump over the wall to the residence and Jinshi chase after you.

You sprint through the streets, Jinshi hot on your tail as you weave through the crowds swiftly, leaving Jinshi no chance to catch up to you. You really did think dressing as a man was fun, however much of a shame it was that Jinshi found out that you were the same eunuch hitting on everyone in the residence. You wonder if he'll catch you. At some point, you manage to ditch the outer coat to your shirt, only pants left and the wrap around your chest, throwing the coat at Jinshi to stop him as you rush into the forest.

It does not stop him, and when you dive into the water to get to the cave, a hand wraps around your ankle, pulling you to the surface with it as you kick to be freed. The hand lets go, but not before grabbing your face with a second hand, lips pressed to yours, the two of you float out of the water as Jinshi holds onto your face, legs kicking to keep himself afloat. His grip on your face is solid, no strength spared as he keeps you in place.

"Are you stupid?"

"Me? Stupid?!" You scoff, hands gripping his wrist to try to pull him off. "You're the one who said you would marry no one but Maomao! I simply left because you left me behind!"

"I went back for you!"

"How the hell was I supposed to know that?!" You scream, thrashing against his grip as it tightens, your nails digging into his wrist as he remains unbothered. "You've left me behind so many times! You left me during tea with the fucking emperor so you could save Maomao you nitwit!"

"I needed to save her! You would have done the same! You gave me the army seal!"

"But I would not have neglected you in the outer walls of the palace!" You shriek, finally breaking from his grasp as you dive underwater to swim away.

Jinshi follows after you, hand wrapping around your ankle to pull you to him, hands finding your waist as he pulls you with him to the cave, holding you down on the ground as water drips from his hair onto your face, his vision blurry from something he doesn't know anymore. You make him feel things. The dam holding back all of his emotions for you shatter as he pants, mouth open and chest heaving as he cries, hot tears splattering onto your face, his head hung as you resort to your fate, annoyance all over your face as you wait for him to cry it out.

"Jinshi. You love Maomao. We both know—"

"I don't." He whimpers. "I don't. I don't love her."

"Jinshi—"

somewhere in his subconscious, a rope snags.

"I love you." Jinshi whimpers, tears hot and warm on your cheeks now, dark eyes murky and cloudy, desperation bleeding past his fingers onto your skin as his grip on your tightens, a sob breaking past his lips, almost as if he had been in the same boat as you, the two of you both needing to break in order to be fixed. You had jumped off first, leaving Jinshi on his own as he had to figure out what he needed to do to get you back. You had floated off, lips curled into a peaceful smile and your eyes full of light, only to leave him behind. "I love you." Jinshi repeats again, voice cracking. Deep down, he is still that same child that held hands with you. Both of you were born and bred in order to grow quickly, not spared by the rapids of the palace as you both grew and grew and grew until you were perfect on the outside and hollow on the inside. "I love you." He sobs. "I have loved you for longer than I have been conscious. I did not pick to love Maomao because she had been perfect for me. I had picked her because she had been so full of life and full compared to the both of us. I can't love the same way everyone else does. I have given up my right as emperor, do you not know?! Do you know why you had to treat my wound when Maomao was gone?! I gave up the title! I cannot offer you what you were born and raised for. You deserve—"

You slap him, breathing heavy as the sound echoes through the cave.

"I deserve far more than you can give me." You speak, voice oddly even. "I deserve the world, but there is no point taking someone else's world when all I have ever been raised to know as my world is you. You should have spoken up and done something to communicate. I deserve the title of empress only because I was raised to become one. Beneath the title, all I deserved was for my childhood friend and the anchor of my life to stare at me just once outside of the royal court."

Jinshi whimpers, head still hung, cheek stinging from your slap.

"I was scared. We both cannot afford to have such weaknesses in the royal palace." Jinshi's voice goes quiet. "If I had revealed that I had an attachment to you, then the assassinations would have targeted you. I do not wish for you to drink more poison than you can take. I already know the previous empress made you swallow and swallow until there was nothing left. You are not a doll to me. You are something precious."

"Well you didn't choose me." You sigh. "We are getting nowhere—"

"I love you." Jinshi says it again.

"You do not—"

"I love you." Jinshi stares you in the eye, breathing slowing down and his eyes clear. "Until I stop chasing you under the sun and until the world ends, I love you. Until the heavens themselves strike me down, I will be in love with you. I do not deserve to love you right now, but it does not stop me. I will keep loving you until we return to the dirt of the ground. You may hate me for the rest of your life, despising everything that the royal name I own has put you through, but I will love you. Until I am bleeding my heart out and I become a star in the sky, I will love you. The moon is only gorgeous because it reflects the light from the sun. I am only the moon prince because the sun stands next to me in every event. Without you, I am worth nothing."

"That is a lie and you know it!"

"It is not!" Jinshi yells, lips pressing to yours to shut you up, even when you thrash against him, he holds you down, want and passion rippling through his lips to yours, and even when you accept his kiss, he does not stop, teeth gnashing against yours in something akin to a burning passion. He loves you. You are the sun to his moon, the light that he reflects in his day to day. He may have despised you, but the want that bled through his body at the sight of you was not something he could have ignored either. He loves you. He loves you until he returns to the dust of the world and both of you are lost to history. He loves you until the world caves in on itself and the royal family collapses.

When he finally pulls away, he notices the tears in your eyes and rolling down your cheeks.

"I love you." He whispers.

"Your mother was right." You whimper, voice frail and broken as you cry. "I am just a girl. I did not deserve the fate of the universe to rest on my back. I did not deserve for you to neglect me only to cry to me about loving me all alone. I do not deserve this, Jinshi."

"You are just a girl. I am just a boy." He whispers. "Neither of us deserved what we went through. I have never been in the right when it came to treating you. I will spend eternity trying to win you back after losing you. It will be my divine punishment, and the two of us may enter the afterlife, but I will continue to follow you. I have never been right when it has come to you, and I will spend my life regretting that."

And you cry, chest hurt from the years of pain, heart free from the years of hiding.

You are just a girl, and he is just a boy.

Neither of you deserved what you have been put through in the name of a better nation.

And as he ties his burnt rope to your frayed one to fix the gap, neither did he.

You are just a girl, and he is just a boy.

Alone in a royal palace with no real family.

You did not deserve it.

春

Jinshi brought you home.

His hand on your lower back as the two of you were drenched from head to toe, he brought you back. Maomao wiped your hair down as you thanked her, same dignified smile on your face as always, thanking Maomao for bringing you back. She helped you clean up, and you were returned to your room, the papers of the residence now split between you and Jinshi. Jinshi helps with what he is capable of, papers on his desk split with yours as you help him sort through the affairs of the residence. You are much more well-versed in it than he is.

"Beloved." Jinshi groans. "I need a drink."

You snort, sliding a paper to the side. "Ask Maomao for a drink. I need to make a round in the residence. The new blankets are coming today."

"When will we be wed? We must celebrate your return."

"I find no reason to if I never left." You hum. "You are still yet to propose to me. Not to mention how Maomao still has the hairpin you have given her."

"She does not." Jinshi raises a brow. "She traded it for wen at the pawn store when we went to the streets to get coins."

You raise a brow incredulously.

"You can ask her." Jinshi goes back to whining, Gaoshun sighing.

"Madam." Maomao knocks at the door. "Do you have time?"

You nod, closing the door behind you, and one of the maids hands you something with a bow and runs off when you accept it. It is a treat. Your lips quirk up as you unwrap it, handing Maomao one as you press the other one to your lips. The two of you chew quietly, and you stare at the pond. The red is all gone. You're not sure how Jinshi did it, but he had gotten rid of the blood you stained in it three winters prior. It had been gone for a while now. Yet, you do not say much, chewing on the peanut treat, tossing some at the ducks in the garden as you squat down.

"When is your wedding?"

"There is no need for one." You mumble. "Jinshi may not remember it, but we had been wed already."

Maomao blinks. "You were?"

"It was a simple ceremony. I had no family, so the empress had the two of us wed in secret before her death." You hum. "They dressed me up in red and proceeded with customs, but we continued to refer to each other as betrothed simply because it would be been troublesome for us to be married with no children."

"I see." Maomao mumbles. "Does he remember?"

"I do not believe so—"

You jump in your skin when Jinshi brushes his fingers over the nape of your neck.

"How could I not?" He pouts. "Though, you deserve a bigger wedding. It is the least I should do after putting you through so much."

You grimace at him. "Perhaps we should start from the beginning. Best of luck sending a proposal letter to my nonexistent family, Jinshi."

"No, we should pick up from the wedding." He frowns. "The bed. We never shared a bed."

"Because the empress passed away that same night so no one was there to watch us to rest together." You roll your eyes. "Treat?"

He takes one, humming. "I would prefer to host the wedding again."

You shrug. "The one to plan shall be you, despite the traditional way to go about it. It is not like I can bed you, anyway."

Maomao blinks slowly, cogs turning in her head. You watch, lips curled into a smile when it clicks for her.

"He's a eunuch." She pauses. "Which is why they did not make him bed you."

"Bingo!" You grin. "The second prince officially has one spouse. Master Jinshi has none."

"...then why do the maids here refer to him as master?"

"We force them to be tight-lipped." Jinshi hums. "Anyone who lets a word slip is executed. You live longer when you are tight lipped in this residence."

"I kill at least three maids a year." You hum. "You should watch. I line them up and shoot arrows at them."

Maomao blinks at you in concern. She supposes it is adequate since revealing Jinshi's true name would be like selling him out, but the idea of you wielding a bow... She pauses. No. You've cut a man's head off clean before. It is not out of character. It is simply out of character for the persona you display in front of the royal palace. Huh. Amusing. The contradiction of your quiet personality and the reality of your abilities. Perhaps you had been groomed in such a way to prevent your turning on the late empress.

"You are strange."

"Yes." You smile. "Very strange."

"You know what is strange? The fact that you are not my wife yet." Jinshi sighs dramatically.

You snort.

"Shall we get married in fall? When the harvest is most bountiful?"

"Perhaps." You yawn. "Though, you are to prepare everything."

"Except the dress?" Jinshi pauses. "No. It would be best if I pick the dress. I would simply—"

You smack him in the back of his head. "Bad. Leave the dress and decorations to me. You will simply plan the day and time."

"Yes, beloved." He pouts.

In the distance, a maid waves her hand, and you nod at Jinshi heading off.

Maomao's gaze lingers on you, only speaking up when you are out of earshot.

"Perhaps a new hairpin for her would be good as well."

"Well obviously." He pouts. "Perhaps you know what gem she would prefer?"

"Perhaps out of jade." She turns to look at Jinshi. "And hand carved."

Jinshi spits out blood.

Alright. For you.

Jinshi finishes the hairpin surprisingly fast, going home with ash on his face more often than he liked, but the hairpin is finished, jade shiny under the sun, pearls fastened with red silk, perfect for you to wear. It weighs light in his hand, but the metal is precious. So, he waits for a nice spring day, the sky clear and blue, sun in the sky, and he calls you out for tea.

This time, it would be his turn to chase after you, and he was determined to get you back.

After all, by the stars and the moon, by your birthdays and luck, you were destined.

And even if you were just a girl and he was just a boy, at least he was your boy.

If you would let him, of course.

After all, his rope is fastened to yours forever now.

[vellihor]

unspoken. chapter 3. sylus.

cw: sylus x non-mc reader, idiots in love, mute reader, knives, blood, violence, gore, trauma, angst, fluff, reader is painfully oblivious! (in the beginning at least), SLOW BURN, intentional lowercase, inspiration from og LADS lore but may contain altered versions :)

word count -> 890

italics mean reader’s thoughts

bold italics are sound effects

quotes are for phone texts

“normal text in quotes are speech”

“italicised text in quotes are signed speech”

author's note: sylus's pov! ok i just needed the extra angst.

< previous chapter next chapter >

the doors didn’t stand a chance.

sylus blew through them with a scream of metal and fury, evol flaring so violently the walls sparked in protest. gunfire echoed behind him—standard security patrols. he didn’t care. he wasn’t here to survive.

he was here to burn this place to the ground.

he turned a corner and dragged his hand through the air—glass and steel crushed in his wake. the next wall burst inward, revealing a corridor of sterile light and mechanical whirring. his boots pounded against the floor, tracking blood and soot behind him.

“where are they?” he snarled, grabbing the next guard by the collar and slamming him into the wall hard enough to crack his skull. the body slumped before he even finished the sentence.

then—

a hum. a flicker.

the corridor lit up, and the wall ahead dissolved into a vast, cold chamber.

in its center, a circular platform rose. monitors encased its rim, and in the middle stood a podium with two large buttons.

above it, a hologram crackled to life.

oliver.

grinning.

“sylus,” he said, voice slick with mock sympathy. “welcome. took you long enough.”

sylus surged forward, fists glowing with red mist, but the platform responded with an invisible barrier—one that flared to life the second he struck it. energy crackled around his fists as he reeled back.

oliver laughed. “oh, don’t waste your strength. you’ve already lost it.”

the screens around him blinked on.

and there they were.

two containment pods.

one: her. the woman who had followed him into every fire, even when he left her to burn. her face was calm—resigned. like she already knew. like she was already letting go.

two: miss hunter. drenched in sweat, shaking, screaming at the glass. clawing for freedom. mouthing his name.

“i see you recognize the stakes,” oliver continued, his projection stepping around the console leisurely. “only one can be saved. a morality algorithm, you might call it. one lives. the other dies. simple input.”

the buttons pulsed beneath sylus’s fists.

his heart slammed against his ribs, hammering wildly at the decision.

“don’t worry,” oliver added. “we’ve calculated it all. instinct, sentimentality, heroism. let’s see how predictable you really are, the great sylus.”

sylus’s hands hovered.

her eyes found the camera. she smiled.

that damned smile. quiet. steady. like always.

she mouthed something.

“it’s okay.”

why do you always do that?

he pressed his hand against the glass. “no,” he whispered, voice cracking.

the hologram blinked.

“time’s ticking.”

5.

his hands shook. wavered as it hovered above the buttons.

4.

miss hunter’s face twisted in horror. please—please sylus please—

3.

the figure in the second pod simply closed her eyes. not out of fear. out of peace.

2.

his hand moved.

1.

he slammed it down.

the button glowed.

a hiss echoed from the screen. a hydraulic release.

her pod dropped.

“no—NO—”

he screamed as the screen faded to black, pounding his fists on the console, voice breaking into something raw, something not human.

oliver’s hologram flickered.

“predictable,” he murmured.

then vanished.

leaving sylus alone in the flickering light.

and a silence that would never leave him.

-

the sky split open as sylus dropped through it.

wind roared in his ears as he tore through the clouds, descending like a meteor, evol burning across his spine. his jaw clenched, blood still on his knuckles. he hit the ground hard enough to crater it, smoke and gravel erupting around him. before the dust even cleared, he was moving. his boots splashed through puddles of seawater and blood.

the facility’s lower docks stretched out before him, half-crumbled from internal explosions. sparks flew from broken lights. a warning siren somewhere sputtered and died. the air stank of metal, ozone, and—

gunpowder.

he dove into the water. the ocean swallowed him whole, but he kept going, driving himself lower and lower. light died above him. pressure crushed in around him. his eyes adjusting, scanning.

then he saw it.

red.

a bloom of crimson swirling like ink in the water, spreading and curling in ribbons around him. blood. fresh. too much.

his breath caught in his throat.

she had been here.

the water thrummed with the aftermath—residue from ruptured evol signatures, pulses of scorched heat still clinging to shattered debris. he scanned the wreckage of the capsule—its outer shell cracked open like an egg, torn from the inside. burn marks laced the metal.

her body…

wasn’t here.

no trace. no rise toward the surface. no sinking deeper into the abyss. just that terrible red, curling through the sea like a ghost’s final breath.

“boss,” came luke’s voice, distorted and distant in his ear. “do you see her? do you see anything?”

he didn’t respond.

he hovered in the water, frozen. the murk swirled around him, glowing faintly from his suit. for a moment, he felt like he was standing in a tomb.

“...boss?” kieran’s voice unsteady.

she had bled out here. destroyed by the capsule from within.

but her body…

like the ocean had swallowed her whole, claimed her as its own, and refused to give her back.

sylus clenched his fists, trembling in silence.

there were no words left.

just the red.

and the crushing weight of everything he had not chosen.

blood curdling screams rang in the air.

< previous chapter next chapter >

taglist: @animegamerfox@justpassingdontworry@loreleis-world@zhongtar@lunia-likes-pomegranet@babyx91@huuvu@imnikki@angelichiaro@jb-hope94@elegantdeerlady@idkmanimjusthorny@beesin03@anixx1

[vellihor]

unspoken. chapter 3.

cw: sylus x non-mc reader, idiots in love, mute reader, knives, blood, violence, gore, trauma, angst, fluff, reader is painfully oblivious! (in the beginning at least), SLOW BURN, intentional lowercase, inspiration from og LADS lore but may contain altered versions :)

word count -> 2131

italics mean reader’s thoughts

bold italics are sound effects

quotes are for phone texts

“normal text in quotes are speech”

“italicised text in quotes are signed speech”

author's note: well, i think it got out of hand.

< previous chapter next chapter >

you black out and come to in the same warehouse you collapsed in. for a moment, you convince yourself it was all just a dream or some hallucination. but when you reach for the second evol embedded in the shadows of your memory, it’s there. like a second heart.

tangible. real.

it wasn’t a hallucination. you try to shake it off.

-

returning to base, you notice sylus isn’t there. the twins don’t even blink at your reappearance, despite your absence for the past three days. it’s not unusual. you’ve disappeared for longer before, sometimes without contact.

“no news is good news,” you used to say. famous last words.

you ask where sylus went. luke shrugs and mentions that he brought miss hunter to philip—something about “resonating.” you raise a brow and check mephisto’s feed in your office. there, you see sylus, trying to get miss hunter to remember him. desperately forcing her to resonate with him. well, at least philip knows better than to force it.

you push the bubbling feelings down and throw yourself into research. the second evol. having two. multiple. the same term keeps appearing: mehrerehaussen. a long-suppressed lineage of evol users who could have more than one evol.

does that mean you could have more than two?

a knock interrupts your thoughts. luke pokes his head in to say sylus is back. you head to his office, intel from the warehouse in hand. you're still debating whether to tell him you were experimented on. as soon as you enter, you can tell he’s in a foul mood. wordlessly, you drop the folder on his desk and turn to leave. you’ve learned not to speak when he’s like this.

over the following days, sylus grows distant. during briefings, he barely listens. he leaves whenever miss hunter calls. slowly, he offloads more of onychinus' responsibilities onto your shoulders. a compliment, perhaps. you return his curt greetings and messages, careful not to let the sting show. if he’s that enamored with his soulmate, who are you to interfere?

he notices your shift and tries to talk to you, but you brush him off, avoiding his eyes. thankfully, miss hunter’s presence provides a convenient distraction, always arriving at just the right moment to interrupt.

you pass the dining hall and hear laughter—his laughter. you catch a glimpse of the table. he’s sitting with her. smiling. relaxed in a way he never is with you. the sigh escapes before you can stop it. sylus catches your eye mid-laugh and raises a hand, beckoning you over. you look away. the twins wave to you instead, pulling you toward the armory. saved—again—by your boys.

-

sylus doesn’t know when he started losing you. only that one day, he turned and you were just... gone.

still there—but not.

you barely look at him anymore. you say nothing. just hand in reports and disappear.

the night he finds you asleep on your couch, he doesn’t know why he’s even angry. maybe because you're no longer giving him the look—the one that asked are you okay?

now, you're just cold. distant. out of reach.

-

you begin adjusting your routine to avoid sylus entirely. shifting sleep schedules, dodging rooms. until one night, you return to find him on your couch. you ignore him, lie in bed, switch off the lights.

"anything you want to tell me?" he asks.

silence.

he sighs. the bedside lamp clicks on with a flick of his evol. the brightness makes you flinch.

“what is your problem?” he snaps. you reel at the intensity of his approach.

kill him.

wha- huh? where is this coming from?

“i’m fine,” you mouth, glaring pointedly at him.

he opens his mouth again, but his phone rings.

miss hunter, you guess.

he leaves to take the call. you bury yourself deeper into the covers. you are still unsettled by your thoughts. were they your own…? or was it the evol?

-

a few days later, you and the twins plan sylus’ birthday. none of you know the exact date, so you celebrate every day of april. in luke and kieran’s words: “it’s bound to be one of them.”

“what’s your present for boss this year, missus?” luke asks.

“freaking you out????? what about us??? how- when did this happen?” you find yourself pouring every detail out to the boys.

you glance between the twins. “nothing special,” bracing yourself for the fallout of your reveal. luke nods to himself as if accepting my answer. kieran stares at you as if you just sprouted another head. kieran hits luke on the back of his head. both of them realise what happened and just stared. “okay i was expecting more than gawking. please say something. this is freaking me out.”

“boss is going to be so happy about this. this is great. a wonderful present. even though it wasn’t really intended but hey. a present is a present.” luke grins in his boyish way. kieran stands to the side, unsure about how it would affect them.

“now, about the celebration...”, luke leads on.

-

day 17 of celebrations.

you pop confetti in the dining hall and the twins present sylus with a cupcake with a ridiculous amount of candles on it.

“no need for this tomorrow,” he says casually. “i’ll be out.”

“...with miss hunter?” luke asks.

sylus pauses. “yes.”

silence settles among the confetti drifting to the floor.

“but that’s unfair! missus has something—” luke begins.

you tap him on the chest and usher them out of the room. “enough. he made it clear,” you whisper once you’re out of earshot.

april 18. you’re sure that’s his birthday. you would bet your life on it.

you aren’t so sure about telling him you have your voice on his birthday of all days. doesn’t seem like a good present afterall.

-

bzzt. bzzt. bzzt.

your phone buzzes on your nightstand, bringing a call from god knows who. “hey, um, i need help. i’m at the vixen club down at thresh lane. can you come get me?” miss hunter. you check the clock. 3:08am. you don’t reply. you just grab your jacket, throw yourself over your bike, and peel down the highway.

at the club, you find her on the sofa, surrounded by greasy men. you plop yourself onto the cushion between her and another man, pressing the tip of your knife into the inside of his thigh. a silent threat. he freezes. you jerk your head toward the door. miss hunter gets up. you follow, but you’re ten steps from the exit when an explosion rips through the air and slams you into the floor.

BOOM.

your ears ring. vision swims. you try to shake it off before looking around for miss hunter. she lies unconscious and crumpled next to the entrance. you rush to her side—she’s still breathing. then you see the men in gear storming in. when you realise you recognise the gear, you text sylus.

911.

then toss the phone far away from you, knowing he’ll track it. you draw your knives. you move like a blur, slicing, disabling. but you pause when you hear the distinct click of a gun.

“move and the hunter dies.” one of them has her. gun to her head.

you could just let her die.

what the fuck?

she stole your man, after all.

what man?

you raise your hands and your knives clatter to the floor.

“let her go. i’ll go with you.”

miss hunter’s eyes widen at the sound of your voice. ”nice try, silent blade,” one man sneers. “we were here for both of you.” you move too late. you don’t remember the blow that drops you.

-

sylus gets the text when he was in the middle of reading reports. an emergency ping from you. 911. then silence. he drops everything.

the street’s a mess when he arrives—bodies, smoke, a scorched knife he recognizes as yours.

your phone lies broken on the ground. no sign of you. he clenches his fist, digging his nails into his palms until they bleed.

-

you wake up in that same damn pristine lab. this time, with a cellmate. you groan inwardly.

here we go again.

oliver grins at you through the glass. “we really need to stop meeting like this,” he says cheerfully. “i don’t recall you asking.”

“formalities,” he waves it off. “now, i believe the hunter has an anhaussen evol?” you bristle.

“what about it?”

“i think it would… complement your repertoire nicely.”

“no.”

“i don’t recall asking.”

your brain races, looking for a way out of this. then your brain locks on something you saw the last time you were here—the morality algorithm.

“how do you know about that?” oliver, surprised when you bring it up. you shrug.

“what about it?”

“we can be part of it. one of us lives. the other one doesn’t.”

it’s a risk but you were willing to bet that she was the lesser of evil between the both of you. it was a no brainer. the ai would pick her to survive, no doubt.

oliver bursts out laughing. “by the hands of onychinus’ mighty leader! oh my darling, you’ve just proven why you’re my favorite! such ingenuity.”

“wait—no—” but the door slams.

you’ve just doomed yourself for this minx taking your spot.

woah hey watch it.

miss hunter stirs. “how nice of you to wake up now. i just signed my death warrant.”

“wha—huh? okay, pause. rewind. how are you speaking?”

you explain: the scientist, the serum, the suppressed lineage, the healing evol. it repaired your vocal cords.

“how are you so calm right now? what was that about a death warrant?”

“nothing. just frustrated. i’ve been in worse situations. i can deal with this.”

lies.

“listen, i need you to be strong. i won’t let them take your evol. but i need you to trust me.”

“if i didn’t, i wouldn’t have called you.”

“why didn’t you call sylus?”

“he told me not to go. but i had to, it was an association mission.”

“hmmm. typical. the aethercore?” you feel her stiffen.

“you know about it?”

“who do you think i am?”

silence.

you both sit in it for a while.

“you know,” you finally say, “he cares about you.”

miss hunter blinks.

“sylus? pft. as if. if he did, he wouldn’t have asked me to shoot him the first time we met.”

“you don’t believe me?”

you hold out your hand. “do you trust me?”

hesitantly, she places hers in yours.

you channel your evol and search through her memories, drawing one to the surface: sylus, eons ago. a memory of love, of trials, of constantly finding each other through time.

when you release her hand, her eyes glisten.

“that’s why he couldn’t forget you,” you say softly.

tears spill.

great. now you feel like the mistress.

mistress? i don’t love sylus like that.

do you?

-

time passes strangely. you aren’t sure how much time has passed but eventually, guards come and lead you both to separate containment pods.

you catch miss hunter’s eyes through the glass. you offer a reassuring glance before taking a nervous gulp of air.

if anyone dies today, it’ll probably be me. yeah… after everything i saw…

the pods jerk forward through open hangar doors, the sunlight blinding you.

you’re suspended above the open sea.

karma. this is karma. definitely karma.

an alarm blares. a voice echoes through your pod. judging by miss hunter’s expression, she can hear it too.

“welcome, mr. sylus. we’ve been expecting you.”

you recognize oliver’s voice.

“you have two choices. save one. the other drops.” “oh, yes. he can see you too. smile girls. ciao” you glance at the camera in your pod tentatively.

miss hunter bangs on the glass.

10.

9.

“NO! NO SYLUS! THIS ISN’T RIGHT!”

“PLEASE. SYLUS. NO. DON’T SAVE ME. SAVE HER. YOU KNOW HER.”

8.

7.

does he now?

you glance at the camera in your pod and give a small smile.

6.

5.

it’s okay, you mouth.

4.

miss hunter’s screams grow hoarse and incoherent.

you close your eyes.

3.

maybe you were meant to be betrayed.

still definitely karma.

what? were you hoping for him to save you?

no. maybe.

2.

“SYLUS. YOU’RE A MONSTER. I NEVER SHOULD HAVE TRUSTED YOU.”

live with it.

if you killed her, it wouldn’t have come to this.

not the time.

1.

-

you feel the free fall in your guts.

then the impact.

the explosion of the pod pushing you further deeper into the water.

the roaring water in your ears.

then crushing silence.

you don’t fight it.

you let it take you.

let the darkness cradle you.

< previous chapter next chapter >

taglist: @animegamerfox @justpassingdontworry @loreleis-world @zhongtar @lunia-likes-pomegranet @babyx91 @huuvu @imnikki @angelichiaro @jb-hope94 @elegantdeerlady @idkmanimjusthorny @beesin03 @anixx1

[vellihor]

unspoken. chapter 2.

cw: sylus x non-mc reader, idiots in love, mute reader, knives, blood, violence, gore, trauma, angst, fluff, reader is painfully oblivious! (in the beginning at least), SLOW BURN, intentional lowercase, inspiration from og LADS lore but may contain altered versions :)

word count -> 2056

italics mean reader’s thoughts

bold italics are sound effects

quotes are for phone texts

“normal text in quotes are speech”

“italicised text in quotes are signed speech”

author's note: well, i didn't expect this to get the love it has. thank you guys!

< previous chapter next chapter >

mephisto sits on your window sill, projecting the surveillance video of the guest room. miss hunter cuffed to the bed post, wary and antsy. sylus still hasn’t explained his reason for bringing her here. something about this situation unsettled you and you had no idea why. you took the liberty of moving her into the guest room after sylus recovered. you know what? i don’t care anymore. call me petty. if he didn’t want me knowing, i shall stay ignorant. whatever happens is none of my business.

you picked up your leather jacket and waved mephisto to follow you. stopping in front of the guest room, you gesture for mephisto to keep up the surveillance on miss hunter. heading to the garage, you run into the twins. you try to walk past them when luke speaks. “are you hunting blanco today?” you sigh and nod your head. “im going now” as the door to the garage opens. “oh, nuh-uh we are going with you.” you shrug as you walk over to your bike.

peeling down the highway, the comm buzzes with sylus’ voice. “come back now.” you turn your head and see the twins looking at you in their mustang, shrugging to say they don’t know what its about either. he hasn’t spoken to me since his gunshot wound and now he wants to order me around. disobey a direct order or postpone the mission. sighing, you motion for the twins to turn around.

-

striding through the doors with the twins flanking you, you were greeted by miss hunter wandering the hallways. the three of you stop in your tracks. there’s no way she could have gotten out by herself. which means sylus freed her. you feel the twins bristle and stiffen, ready for anything. miss hunter finally notices she isn’t alone and warily approaches. “hi, um where is the exit? i’ve been looking for about an hour now…” you stare at her, emotionless and unmoving. she looks at you, getting increasingly nervous every passing second of silence. this is a hunter?

caw. you hear mephisto before he lands on your shoulder. cawing frantically as if to complain about miss hunter who is now hurling insults at mephisto. “is that your crow? he wouldn’t stop following me. watching me. wouldn’t help me get out either. i-” you hold up your hand to stop her, mephisto now nuzzling your cheek. nobody disrespects mephisto like that. you watch as she swallows the rest of her sentence. you jerk your head at the twins and walk past her, heading to sylus’ office. she tries to follow but the twins distracted her. “miss hunter, do you want a tour of the base? come with us. this is kieran, i’m luke! we’re twins, if it wasn’t obvious already…”

pushing open the mahogany doors of sylus’ office, you are greeted with sylus looking out the window. you stop short of his desk, waiting for him to address you. he turns to you and you realise he has an expression you have never seen before but its gone in the blink of an eye. you come to a startling realisation. she’s his soulmate. a strange ache roots itself in your chest, gripping so tightly you almost suffocate. thankfully, the twins save you yet again, bursting into the office with mephisto. sylus breaks the silence, addressing the twins and you. “i plan on keeping her at the base until further notice. blanco can wait. this is not a discussion. you are dismissed.” you blink once. twice. did he- did he call us back just for this? the twins slink out of the room in obedience. you stay firmly rooted to the plush carpet. sylus raises his brow.

you aborted my mission for this?

sigh. “i need you to calm her. she’s way too antsy and wary of me” he explains, visibly holding back. scoff. two can play at that game.

wouldn’t luke and kieran be better? at least they can talk.

“kitten, just try.” his tone almost pleading. you press your lips into a thin line before nodding stiffly and heading out of the office.

-

you sit in your room, wondering what you could even do for miss hunter. you recall how she wrapped her hands around her body as she was wandering the hallways. maybe she’s cold. why would i care? a pause. shOw SoMe kINdnEsS. only because she’s sylus’ soulmate. you grumble and push yourself off the couch to grab a winter blanket and a fluffy jacket.

stopping in front of the guest room, you hear her voice clearly on the other side. “how long is he going to keep me here? this place is huge and nobody would tell me ANYTHING. the lady wasn’t saying anything, which was creepy as fuck by the way and very scary. she scares me more than sylus. if anything, i thought she would understand me as a woman. though, the twins are friendly at least… but they still work for sylus. you do too but who cares? you’re a robot crow and i’m a prisoner here. just great.”

knock. knock. you hear her footsteps shuffle towards the door. when the door swings open, you see the shock on her face. speak of the devil, i guess. you show her the blanket and jacket you brought and walk into the room. you set the items down on her bed and the idiot rushes you. dashing towards you, going for a choke. you grab her hand and flip her onto the bed. she scrambles off the bed on the opposite side. you make it a point to keep your face as neutral as possible, letting her size you up. at some point, she looks away and speaks up. “why are you here? to kill me?” her tone dripping with venom but you see it in the way her hand shakes. she’s scared. you sigh and move to the couch near the window.

i thought you might need a jacket. also, can’t have you dying here. bad omen.

as you show your phone screen to her, a flash of confusion and realisation found their way across her face. “you- you’re mute?” she stutters then gasps. “you are silent blade! i’m sorry i, uh, was hostile but you can’t blame me though-” you stop her rambling and gesture that its okay. she pauses and gives you a tentative look. after a moment, her hands move. “thank you.” you are caught off guard. how naive can she be? i just gave her a blanket and a jacket.

i don’t expect you to trust him immediately. but he would never hurt you.

you see the conflicting emotions and thoughts in her expressions. wearing her emotions on her sleeve. she’s still so naively trusting, its fucking unbelievable. you make a move to stand up and was halfway to the door when she grabs your wrist. “where… can i find you?” you hesitate before pointing at mephisto.

stalking down the hall, you decide she’s too infuriatingly naive and not worth aborting the mission over. sylus can play house with his soulmate. i have better things to do.

-

“you two entertain and watch miss hunter. i’m going after blanco.” you tell the twins in the kitchen. “uh didn’t boss say the mission was off? its pouring outside too.” kieran asks. “also they left about ten minutes ago” luke offered. “even better. anyways, two of you are enough to keep up with miss hunter. he doesn’t need the three of us to look after one hunter. don’t tell him i’m out. i’ll be back soon.”

weaving through traffic on the highway, you spot the suv you were tracking. following it at a distance, you noticed it had about five plain-sight cars as its escort detail. heavy protection huh? i’m going to enjoy taking you down. word is you are price’s supplier. let’s see how much you’ve got.

parking behind a warehouse, you slipped in through the gap in the doors, cloaked in your evol. amateurs. you are stunned when you find yourself in a warehouse full of protocores. no. these are modified protocores. this is bigger than we realised. shelves and shelves of protocores that your intel never detailed. sylus would be happy if i seized these tonight. you approach a shelf with a pulsing purple and red protocore, reaching out to touch it. big mistake. searing pain shot through your hand and spread throughout your body like a flame. you tried to drop the protocore but your fingers stayed attached to it. you drop to the floor jerking as the waves of pain crashed into your body. a dart hits you in your thigh and your evol fades, leaving you exposed. the last thing you know, a bag is put over your head. i’m so fucked.

-

as you wake, you find yourself in a glass cell with white padded floors. you look up to see a lab of sorts and a man staring at you. you sit up and look around the cell.

“don’t bother. you only come out when we decide you can. very smart contraption this one.” we? the man smiles and steps closer to the cell. you subconsciously back away. “oh. where are my manners? i am oliver humphrey. but you will know me as your maker soon enough.” you didn’t like the sound of that. he picks up a paper from the table. “mute since 16? can’t have that, can we? so i took the liberty of fixing that for you. you are welcome.” you recoil from his words. nobody had been able to heal your vocal chords, said they were too far damaged to be repaired. seeing your confusion and disbelief, oliver picks up a vial of blue liquid. “its all thanks to this serum. it heals basically everything under the sun. though i have to say, you have had the most successful recovery from it.” setting down the vial, he turns to you. “now, let’s try your voice. i’m sure you have missed it.” he beams and clasps his hands in anticipation. great, a yapper. i’m captured and am a science experiment now. even if it was true, you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. you stare blankly at him, offering no reaction or emotions.

“well, this is normal. after all, seven years is a long time. you will have time to practice.” he shuffles back to the front of the cell, studying you. “is there anything different? i mean it would be better if it came from you. or i could wait for the bloodwork to come back! oh the possibilities are endless! oliver you are a genius. an absolute gem!” you close your eyes and reach for your evol. you find the familiar cooling sensation draping over you as invisibility cloaks you once again. at least its not an evol restricting cell. things could be worse. then you feel an foreign tug, insistent. trying to get your attention. you reach for it. it was different. colder, freezing almost. you open your eyes and see purple tendrils swirling around your forearm, coiling and twisting. like snakes. you try to inflict it on the man in front of you. he stands there, unfazed. “oh, no no. like i said, this cell is a genius contraption. you can use your evol all you want. its useless. just like an evol restricting cell but i would say better. it’s a false sense of hope, don’t you think so?” he chuckles. “at least i know the evol infusion worked!” he giggled. “now, let’s test them shall we?” he presses a button on the console and the door behind you opens to reveal blanco in chains. you look back at oliver. “what? weren’t you hunting him? come on, try your new evol! i’m sure you are as curious as me to see what it does.”

you hesitate but your evol betrays your mind, lashing out at blanco. blanco’s eyes widen and he drops to the floor. “no no no, please no. HAVE MERCY! PLEASE NO!” you see his eyes glaze over, as if he’s seeing something else. “please… not my daughter… please i’ll do anything for you. please…” his chest wracked with the sobs that come out. you feel a cold sense of dread in your chest.

you really have a second evol.

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taglist: @animegamerfox @justpassingdontworry @loreleis-world

[vellihor]

unspoken. chapter 1.

cw: sylus x non-mc reader, idiots in love, mute reader, knives, blood, violence, gore, trauma, angst, fluff, reader is painfully oblivious! (in the beginning at least), SLOW BURN, intentional lowercase, inspiration from og LADS lore but may contain altered versions :)

word count -> 2410

italics mean reader’s thoughts

bold italics are sound effects

quotes are for phone texts

“normal text in quotes are speech”

“italicised text in quotes are signed speech”

author's note: so i was feeling like writing angst for sylus :) and i ended up with an insane fic... i may have let it get out of hand but hey free will!

< previous chapter next chapter >

you had been sylus’ right-hand for seven years. helping him collect intel, carrying out the hits he put out on his enemies. all that entails being part of THE criminal enterprise in the N109 zone. you were his shadows in the dark, the silent blade — the name makes cold sweat drip down people’s forehead at the mention. its partially literal, given how you were mute. also, because unlike sylus, you preferred the sharps rather than guns.

tonight, you were staking out in one of the clubs sylus owned. making sure to blend in with the crowd while keeping tabs on your target for the night. markus, a protocore weapons dealer that had managed to steal a few shipments of protocores from onychinus. sylus had had enough of this man parading the protocores as theirs. hence, your mission for the night. just as markus enters one of the vip rooms, you manage to slink behind him into the room before the doors closed. your evol enveloping you in a blanket that renders you invisible. “mr. price! the goods are all squared away and ready for your taking. i assume you have come to let me know of your decision?” markus clasps his hands politely, addressing the fur-cloaked man sitting on the sofa. your breath hitches when you realise who he is. the scar across his left eye. there he is. the man who killed your family seven years ago. your world swirls and you black out.

when you come to again, you are standing in the middle of a puddle of blood and slumped bodies. knife dripping with blood. ears ringing. heart pounding. breath uneven. adrenaline pumping through your veins. the door slams open and you pull your evol to cloak yourself. only to drop it when you see sylus at the door. his eyes sweep the room and a look of understanding passes between you and him. he scans you up and down for wounds, eyes landing on your knuckles white with the deathly grip you have on the handle of your knife. he gently pries it from your hand. the ride back to the base was silent and a blur.

the next thing you know, you are in the base’s kitchen. sitting at the countertop with a cup of camomile tea in your hands. “hey, what’s going on in your pretty head?” sylus rasps, trying to get your attention. you grab your phone and type out a response. sarcasm would serve me well.

oh was i pretty? i never knew.

you showed him the screen, with a smirk on your face. he lets out a laugh and shakes his head. “darling, how is that the thing that caught your attention?” he moves to stand opposite you from the countertop. you can't help but patronize his concern as a coping mechanism. he knows well. so then you deflect.

i'm fine. i'll have the intel collected on your table tomorrow morning.

sylus raises his eyebrow. “you know that's not what i'm asking about” you shrug and slip off your chair, walking towards the doors with your mug in hand. “where are you going” he calls out. "rooftop", you sign back at him. its one of the words he knows in sign language.

as you settled down on the sofa, the glass door slides open and here he is again. what for? you had no idea. it wasn’t uncommon for you to kill. he took his place next to you. the silence stretched on for forever before you snuck a glance at him and he was just staring out over the railings into the city view. fine by me. i couldn’t bother to type right now.

just when you had fallen into a false sense of peace, sylus opened his mouth. you couldn’t help but inwardly groan. “you remember when we first met?” you snort at his question. as if i would ever forget. you turn to him and give him a questioning look. he chuckles, “relax, i'll talk and you listen.” you reposition yourself to face him as he recounts the day he met you and you are taken back to when you were 16.

it was a normal day for you. a day out with your family — dad, mom, younger brother. you had just returned home from your trip to the theme park. unaware of the thugs that were waiting in your living room. when your family entered the door, it was a mess in the living room. furniture tossed, books on the floor, glass shattered. your brother instinctively shielded you behind him, your evol flaring and hiding you from plain sight. it was chaotic. screams from your mother still rang in your head every time you recalled the memory. blood everywhere. you were rooted to your spot, eyes unblinking as you watched everything unfold. three dead bodies on the floor. a man in a fur coat pacing around the living room, livid. demanding something to be found. frightened, you tried to move backwards and away from the house, pushing a vase off the countertop in the process. as the vase shattered, all movement in the living room seized. the man stalked across the room in three strides and swung his fist where you stood. the impact released your grip on your evol. as he bent down to grab you, your fist closed around a glass shard. his grip on your neck bruising and depriving you of air, you swung your fist at his face. blood pouring out of the gash across his left eye. it loosened the hold he had on your neck so you scrambled for the door, running into the streets barefooted. pulling your evol close to you, you didn’t dare to look behind. until you ran into a silver-haired man. “not very smart of you. running while leaving a trail.” you finally look behind and see blood trail from where the glass cut your hand.

“at that time, i didn’t know what happened. you lost your voice with all the damage to your throat. luke and kieran later found out and told me about it.” sylus unceremoniously swipes your camomile tea for a big sip. you stare at him dumbfounded. “what? my throat is dry from all that talking.” you prompt him for more. he stayed silent. to which you responded by pulling out your phone.

why did you keep me around?

he sighed. “i was- ahem am looking for someone. i thought you could help me but…”

i can’t talk?

“no. its… personal.” you raise your eyebrows, intrigued. he had never mentioned anything before. you wanted to help him with something, to repay the kindness he had shown you. you lean forward to show your interest. sylus senses that you are keen to help and unwilling to budge. “i shouldn’t have mentioned it… sigh its a hunter from the hunters’ association.” you blanch at the reveal. a hunter? why?

“i will tell you more when that intel hits my table tomorrow.” he gets up and looks back at me. “sleep well, kitten. you did well tonight.”

-

you entered the kitchen, yawning. freezing when you feel three pairs of eyes on you. sylus is still asleep at this time. so who else is here? “morning missus! we have a guest today!” luke cheerfully greets you. you turn to the dining table and see another man sitting at the table with luke and kieran. your confused look prompts kieran to explain the man. “boss invited him to craft weapons for us. a reward of sorts. new guns for me and luke… new knives for you!” you realise its just philip. you offer a wave and move to get your morning coffee before heading to sylus’ office.

placing the intel on his desk, you notice a thick leather bound book with a sticky note on its cover. for your peruse -sy. you smile as you flip the pages. intricate calligraphy and elaborate drawings of dragons etched on the pages. you doubt sylus meant for you to read through all of it in five minutes so you hefted the book onto your hip and made your way back to your room where you spent the rest of the day reading through the book. at first glance, it seemed like mythology or a fantasy story. an age where dragons and magic coexisted. until you realized the striking resemblance between the human-dragon and sylus. no way. nuh-uh there’s not a fucking way. this was eons ago. nah this can’t be sylus. he would be hella old… eh, could be just perks of being a dragon. huh? your eyes focus in on a drawing. a female holding a claymore, driving it into the chest of the dragon. a curse. huh. this must be a joke. he must have placed the sticky note on this book by mistake. unless…? you look out the window and realize the sun is setting. perfect. sylus would be awake now.

you bound down the steps to find sylus heading to the kitchen. you cock your head to the side, questioning. “i just went to the garage to find something i left in the car last night”, sylus says while taking his seat at the head of the dining table. you take a seat opposite luke and kieran. you showed sylus text on your phone.

so i read the book.

you side-eye him, trying to gauge his reaction. “mhm, what do you think of it?” so it wasn’t a mistake.

you are finding your soulmate?

that gets him. he chokes on his food. wiping his mouth, taking gulps of water. that also piqued luke and kieran’s interest. “missus, what are you talking about?” luke snickers, wanting to get in on the tea. you smile and turn your phone towards him. before it got snatched up by sylus. “I SAW THE WORD SOULMATE” “ARE YOU GUYS FINALLY DATING??” luke and kieran are suddenly out of their chairs dancing. giving wild high fives to each other. you furrow your brows in confusion and all it took was a stern look from sylus for them to settle back down in their seats. you tried to hold in your laugh, looking at sylus fuming. nothing would have happened if you just let them see the text. you pointed to your phone. he sighed and passed your phone back to you. you finally let the twins see the text. question marks start flying around. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN FIND-” luke is silenced by kieran slapping a hand over his mouth. the rest of dinner is spent in silence. you could barely contain your smile as you ate dinner. you enjoyed the small moments when the four of you felt like a normal family.

-

some time after midnight, you were in the armoury maintaining your weapons. hearing the door open, you don’t turn to see who it is. you already know its sylus. he doesn’t move or speak. you wait patiently for him to say something as you wipe down your knives. suddenly, the familiar tang of iron hits your nose. you whip around to see sylus sitting on the floor against the wall clutching a wound in his chest. you rush to his side and lightly smack his face trying to prevent him from losing consciousness. his head lolls against the wall, forehead sticky with sweat. a gunshot wound. why is he not healing? where did he go after dinner? you run to the first aid kit and yank out the dressings and press it into his chest, earning a pained groan from him. serves you right for not bringing me along. you gently lean him forward to check if the wound is a through wound. its a through wound, this ought to be easier to deal with. why the flying fuck is he not healing??? you put a dressing against his back and lean your knee against his chest to put pressure while you get your phone out to get luke and kieran to come.

gsw @ armoury

within a minute, the twins burst into the armoury with a gurney. they lift sylus up onto it and start dashing towards the infirmary. when the resident doctor takes over, the three of you are forced to wait outside. bloody hands on hips, you turn to the twins and they instantly lower their heads. you know they went out with sylus after dinner but you never ask about missions you weren’t briefed on, knowing there was probably a reason for it.

“im sorry-”

“we are sorry-”

“we didn’t-”

“boss was not-”

the twins stumbled over their words, talking over each other in a frenzy. you hold your hand up and the twins were silenced. you point to kieran, asking him to explain. he visibly gulped.

“boss made us keep it a secret. he will tell you when he wakes up.”

you let out a scoff, feeling frustrated. “you better tell me now before i put both of you six feet underground” the twins shift uneasily, exchanging glances before everything came tumbling out.

-

sylus had already put out bait for miss hunter and tonight she was at the nest so he brought luke and kieran to… scare her? huh? isn’t she his soulmate? why is he acting like a terrorist? so he gave her a gun and asked her to shoot him through the heart. except he fucking forgot an evol restricting bullet was in the magazine. what the fuck is going on? so why ask me to help when he already knows her whereabouts?? and not bring me along for this???? why ask his soulmate to shoot him in the chest?

thoughts fly around in your head as you wait by sylus’ bed after his surgery. you glance at the clock. its four in the morning. you were about to stand up to hand over the shift to luke when sylus stirred. you help him sit up as he winces. you know the bullet’s effects were not going to wear off any time soon. serves him right. for the second time. your anger won and you turn to leave the room. but sylus’ hand finds your wrist, pulling you back. even when wounded, you still have insane strength. you turn and he sees the anger on your face, instantly regret is all over his face. “i-” he stops as soon as he starts. a beat passes and the most insane sentence imaginable comes out of his mouth.

“i brought her back to the base. she's in my room”

< previous chapter next chapter >

[vellihor]

Salmon hats: sweeping the nation by storm watercolor on paper, digitally overlaid on photo

[vellihor]

ryujin ✨ run away

[vellihor]

not dramatic at all.

[vellihor]

Withering for You || Seungcheol- Part 3

Pairings: Seungcheol x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, CEO! Seungcheol au, Husband! Seungcheol au, Wife! Reader au, Music Teacher! Reader au, Arranged Marriage au, College Sweetheart au, Exes to Lovers au

Synopsis: When you are arranged married to the man, whose heart you had broken years ago, even dreaming about mending things seems next to impossible when he has been holding grudge for all these only to return it to you tenfold.

Warnings (specific to this part): suggestive, crying, profanities, love blooms, mentions of infidelity (doesn't happen to though), mention of alcohol consumption, betrayal, rock bottom, italics represents occurrences in past

Word Count: 6.4k

TAGLIST FOR THIS SERIES IS CLOSED!

Banner credits to my baby @hoeforhao <3

[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]

Teaser | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |

Seungcheol is distressed. He thinks something is wrong with you. Though he had dismissed all the previous occurrences, he can't do it anymore. You're distant nowadays. You don't kiss him goodbyes. You don't say the 'I love you's. You're always ditching him at any chance given. You don't let him sneak into your sheets.

The inseparable godly campus couple are barely seen together nowadays. The rumours are being spread. Some are worried, some are happy. Though you both had no secrets, Seungcheol still thinks you must have your own reasons if you're keeping something upto yourself. He tries his best to be patient and waits for you to come back because he trusts you.

Seungcheol is an enigma. He's sculpted, he's hella smart, he's hella rich. The girls lined up outside the dorm just to catch a glimpse of him. The guys hogged out his dorm room just to know how can someone be a full package.

He knew people would either love him for his looks or mostly for his money. He had no hope of making genuine friends until he came across Wonwoo, a scholarship student, who was aloof and coincidentally his assigned roommate.

If Seungcheol thought he was good at pushing people away, he was amazed to see Wonwoo. Sharing the dorm room with him was almost living alone. Seungcheol couldn't pinpoint why but he knew Wonwoo hated him. So one day after gathering courage and confronting him, Seungcheol comes to know about his cautiousness against rich people in general. Then one talk lead to two, two lead to three and that's how Seungcheol and Wonwoo became friends.

He was sure he wouldn't find love until you came in the picture.

A hard slap comes against Seungcheol's cheek and the whole campus becomes eerily silent.

"How dare you submit my assignment in your name?", you are fuming in rage and raise your hand to slap him again when he holds your hand mid air.

"What the hell are you talking about?", he hisses through his teeth.

You scoff, "The audacity to pretend, Mr. Choi Seungcheol. Just because you have looks and money which you have no contribution in, you think you've conquered the world.", you free your arm from his grip, "Come to the professor's cabin at 2 or else I'll skin you alive. Pathetic loser."

You walk away but Seungcheol has his head spinning. He doesn't get why he got slapped out of nowhere and why the hell would he submit your assignment in his name when he doesn't even know you.

Then the lightbulb in his head goes off.

He immediately corners Jiah.

"What have you done?", he asks angrily.

Jiah is sweating, when she had assured Seungcheol that she would take care of the assignment because he had to aid his father with some business work and would be out of the country for two weeks, she didn't foresee herself completely forgetting about it.

So when she saw a binder kept on a desk, she silently took it and attached Seungcheol's name and details on it, tearing away the original owner's details.

Confident that even if someone caught onto it, they would let it slide just to get on Seungcheol's good side, she never thought it would backfire so bad.

Hence, Seungcheol is currently standing in the professor's cabin admitting to the wrong, head hung low.

You stand straight, head high also glaring at the professor, "What if he had not admitted to doing it? You'd have my whole work credited to him. Next time if something like this happens under my watch, I'll report it to the committee."

The professor gulps nervously and you are walking out not sparing another second.

That's where it all begun. Him knowing your name from the professor and chasing you down to apologise. You unabashedly giving him lectures on authenticity and ethics whenever he approached you.

You frequently get to see him, coincidentally or not. Him trying to make small talks, you ending his approach with an one word answer and moving ahead.

"Are you stalking me?", comes your sudden question one day.

"No, but I do look forward to seeing you, talking to you.", comes his honest answer.

He notices, you also like to keep your circle small. You're seen everywhere with the same two people. Now it's your turn to be amused when one day Mingyu insists on bringing Seungcheol to the musical, the one in which you've contributed to the background score. You're left embarrassed when at the end of the show he yells your name and applauds the loudest because he is mesmerized. That night he treats the whole team to dinner.

"I think Seungcheol likes you.", Eunsoo tells you one day.

"The almighty Choi Seungcheol?", you are laughing, "Soo, I don't match his social status. Have you seen those plastic heiress chasing him? I had even slapped him infront of the whole campus."

"Look, we have become good friends but I do know he approached me because of you.", Mingyu admits, "He definitely likes you."

"Do you like him?", Eunsoo asks you.

"Why would I like him?", you ponder.

Wonwoo is an observer. And with his special skill he deducts that his friend must have had his heart taken.

"So who's the one?", he asks one night when they're both getting ready for bed.

"Who's who?", Seungcheol asks confused.

"The one you like."

"Am I that obvious?"

"Yes. Please it be anyone except for Jiah, I can't tolerate her. Anyways, I know it wouldn't be her...", then Wonwoo goes on about how he spends less time in the dorm room nowadays. How he's always wandering around in the campus which he never did before. How he's consistent in attending the same two specific lectures.

"It's Y/N.", he says shyly, hiding his face behind his palms.

"No wonder, you're a masochist.", Wonwoo lays down on bed, "You like the girl who slapped you."

Seungcheol gasps, utterly embarassed, "Stop blabbering nonsense!"

When he asks you out, instead of being taken out to a fancy restaurant as initially planned you request him to go on a movie date.

It took you five dates to make him know you.

"We don't belong to the same class, Seungcheol."

"I'm not looking for anything temporary, Seungcheol."

"I don't enjoy the luxuries, I'd rather achieve everything on my own, Cheol."

"I like to keep my circle small amd private. Nothing extravagant."

"I like you too but would you accept me after knowing all this?"

The response from him comes as strong as a whirlwind in the form a deep kiss. You might have been hesitant at start but he has always been sure.

Things have gotten better since your birthday. Seungcheol's hostility towards you has decreased and though you want to question him about this certain change, those take a backseat just to not lose what you have at this moment.

He snarks at you less. Listens if you have something to say. Checks upon you occassionally. Wears the attire you choose for him, you both have breakfast & dinner together. But you still sleep in separate rooms but after intimate nights he doesn't leave, rather sleeps in nowadays.

"You should never trust him.", says Chan from the other end.

"What if he's really changed?", you tell him, "Maybe he has finally got that all this revenge agenda is worthless if you can be with the person you love."

"Just ask him.", Chan insists, "You need to understand that being in denial would only hurt you so confront him."

"Okay, if you insist."

Wonwoo is suspicious of Seungcheol. He too like Chan isn't convinced that Seungcheol could change overnight. So he secretly keeps the tabs on him. The fact which disturbs him is Jiah is happy nowadays. If your relationship with Seungcheol improves then Jiah would be anything but happy which leaves him skeptical.

"Don't do anything you'd regret later.", he warns Seungcheol one day. The latter just shrugs off.

Seungcheol was escatic when he started first. It was fun for him to watch how you'd easily trust him. A piece of calk to make you a fool he thought.

He acts as a considering husband in front of you but schemes your downfall behind your back.

"One of those busy days?", he asks one day when he sees you returning from the academy late. It totally catches you off guard but that simple gesture makes you visibily beam as well which doesn't go unnoticed by your husband. He then proceeds to fake concern and show interest when you talk it out.

"How about we go to watch a movie?", he asks one night when you both finish having dinner.

"Will you be able to make time for that?", you ask concerned.

Next, he's grabbing your hand and dragging you out.

"We're in our pyjamas, we can't go out like this, Seungcheol!", you yell in panic when you get his motive.

He doesn't lend you an ear throughout the ride while he's driving you both to the theatre, having it entirely booked to his name.

You can't say much about the movie because Seungcheol's good at distracting you. His dirty whispers, lingering touches and sly looks lead to something unspeakable. Movie long forgotten you're basking in afterglow against your husband's bare chest, in his warm embrace.

"Remember when we were taken out of the theatre by the security after getting caught while making out?"

You laugh at the memory, "We did some real crazy things back then. I could never forget how you walked into the class only in underpants after loosing a bet to me."

Seungcheol response comes out as a scowl as he pinches your sides making you squeal.

You watch him for some moments in silence before mustering the courage and ask him, "Are you really willing to forgive me? Because after what I have done to you, I know it would take a lot more to forgive me."

Seungcheol freezes but gains his compusre quickly and lies through his teeth, "I pondered a lot upon it. You know my mom said the exact thing as you about marriages. So maybe it's a good idea to start anew."

"I-I promise I'll make it up to all the hurt and pain you've been in because of me. I'm so ashamed for treating you like that back then, wish I could take it all back.", your voice cracks, tears pooling in the corner of your eyes, "We'll be happy Seungcheol."

He doesn't believe you. But you do.

Then this goes on. He tries to slip into your life, your circle, your family casually so that when he hits later, the blow catastrophes you.

"I'm currently working on a piece.", you reveal to him one night, "And I'm planning to release the composition, it's midway.", a sigh escapes your lips as you snuggle closer in your husband's arms, "You're the first one to know."

Seungcheol mirrors your smile, pressing a feather kiss on your head, "I'm honoured. And I'm so proud of you.", he laughs when he says, "I wonder how Seungkwan's gonna react when he comes to know that he wasn't the first one to know."

"Oh God, he's gonna be a bitch about it.", you exclaim about it.

He surprises you with gifts, visits you in the academy and takes you to dates. All of it just to keep tabs on you, make you slip out crucial information about anything.

"When are you going to take her down?", Jiah ask impatiently, "You're unnecessarily stalling time."

"I do have gotten something crucial on her. But the more I dwell into this act, the more she'll be hurt.", Seungcheol assures, "Just do what you've been told to and don't act so obvious, specially around Wonwoo, I don't know why but he has been lately saying stuffs. Seems he has grown closer to Y/N and her circle."

Though he wasn't interested at all, but for the sake of fooling you again, he attends the competition you & Seungkwan had taken part in.

Though he would never admit, he was intrigued as he watched you perform again, the nostalgia had hit him hard. He still isn't sure if the loudest claps those came from him were just for eyewash or out of genuinity.

Though he didn't want to spend his birthday with you, somehow it ended up being the most memorable one. When you had wished him dot at midnight and gathered his family and beloved people for a private party where you played him a romantic piece which you had composed just for him as a birthday present, in front of everyone, he wonders if love laced aura radiating from you was real. He wonders if the swell in his chest was just not because of you.

Every time he thinks he's slipping, he reminds himself of the heart burns, the trauma and again he's back to his agenda.

There's a fine line between pretense and reality. And that line is starting to blur for Seungcheol. The worst part, he hasn't even realised it yet.

So when he makes time to visit your academy, he thinks he's acting out according to his plan. But he doesn't realise he goes there just to watch you teach.

He doesn't realise that when plans those dates he actually looks forward to spending time with you.

When you were down with fever, he took you to the doctor not to look good to you but out of genuine worry.

He now shares his bedroom with you. All your belongings have shifted from your room to his. He doesn't like it when he finds the other side of the empty in the mornings. He doesn't let you go if he catches you while you try to sneak off, he whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

He knows about your schedules and nowadays he frees his schedule when you ask him to come and watch you perform. He anticipates your performance until you're on the stage, still claps the loudest and rushes to the backstage with a bouquet just to hug and tell how proud he is of you.

He doesn't fuck you and he might yet not be aware but makes love to you.

"Cherry!", he calls out one day when the two of you were goofing around and both of you freeze instantly. It was a name you both called each other when you both dated and were so in love. And now, that's what falls back to your lips. Like the good old days.

"You have changed.", Jiah says with disappointment, "Do you really not want revenge?"

"What rubbish.", Seungcheol laughs, "It's all just acting.", but the assertiveness in his voice fluctuates.

"So when are you gonna do the needful?", she raises her voice and Seungcheol glares at her.

"I'll decide when to do what.", he snarks, "Doesn't concern you, so stop being pushy."

And Jiah is sure that Seungcheol isn't determined anymore, that his feelings are resurfacing and interfering with the plan.

So she decides to take the matter into her hands once again, like she did years ago.

"Tell me you're joking.", Seungcheol laughs as his gaze sweeps at the faces, "Ok fine you guys got me. Good try."

There's an eerie silence clogging the room.

"Guys, I said y'all got me!", Seungcheol says this time a bit anxious, "You won! Now can we stop all this drama?"

You roll your eyes, as if unbothered, "There's no prank going on here. What I said was true."

You step closer to him, "I'll say it again so listen carefully. You were just a bet to me.", you say unapologetically, "Those guys", your index points at Mingyu and Eunsoo, "gave me a bet to make you, 'the enigmatic Choi Seungcheol'", a mocking laugh follows, "who nobody could bag yet", you're now objectifying him, "make fall in you love with me."

Seungcheol just listens. But he refuses to believe.

You are laughing again. Your hands grab his face moving it side to side, "I was so skeptical because you seemed scary. I mean you do have looks, money and power. But who could guess that you'd be so easy."

You circle around him, "All I had to do was create this image of aloof, private kind of girl and bam! you were circling around me like a puppy. I must admit, I was surprised at my own acting. Never made you have a doubt any second."

The first tear rolls down his cheek, when Seungcheol says, "Was none of it real for you, all the time we spent together?"

"Are you not getting it?", you ask annoyed, "No. None of it was real."

Seungcheol rushes to Mingyu and grabs his collar, "Gyu, please tell me it's all a lie. Just say it and I'd believe it in a blink."

Mingyu stays quiet, eyes lowered.

He then grabs Eunsoo, "Soo, I know you're the most rational one among us, so please please I'm begging you to tell. Tell me whatever she's telling is not true."

Eunsoo refuses to meet his gaze, she stays silent as well.

Seungcheol frees her and stands motionless for moments. He processes everything that he has heard since the moment he stepped into the room. He thinks over but he still doesn't want to believe.

Because he loves you to much to let you go. So he decides to be irrational just one time.

Seungcheol wipes the tears and walks upto you. When you look at him, your heart twists within your chest.

"Y/N", he looks at you so tenderly, "But none of it matters.", his hands travel up to caress your face, "Because all of it was true from my side. I love you, Y/N. Love you so much that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. It's you or no one.", he says so sincerely, "It was wrong to start off as a bet but I want to forget all this."

He then kneels on his knees, "Y/N, let's start this relationship afresh, on the right foot."

You panic because this was not you had expected. You had expected him to throw tantrum, say mean things, even slap you. But none of that happens.

"I don't love you, Seungcheol --"

"Then let me court you. Let me try my luck. Let's see if I could make you fall for me?", he's radiating so much love and grief that it suffocates all the three of you.

This won't do, you think, your plan is failing.

"I have been sleeping with people behind your back the whole time we dated.", you say unabashedly, "I have climbed beds and you never got to know."

Mingyu gasps, Eunsoo freezes at your words.

"It's okay", Seungcheol assures, "Because we weren't real. But now--"

"What makes you think I wouldn't do the same even after being an actual thing with you?", you scoff, "I might actually cheat on you this time. I would have you, your money, the luxuries. I might also see other people and like now, you'd never know.

Seungcheol feels like you've stabbed his heart and twisted the knife. There's an unfathomable bleeding.

"But you never used me, nor my money, none of the luxuries to get something. If you wanted, you could have, have it all.", he argues, "It might have started as an act but at some point it must have become real. Or why would you make me aware of this stupid bet if you didn't have feelings for me?"

"Stop being a sucker.", you snark at him, "It's not like you won't girls. Why are you acting like a loser when you know I don't, I won't reciprocate your feelings?"

Seungcheol gets up, with shaky hands and bloodshot eyes.

"Because even if you didn't, I have loved you honestly.", comes Seungcheol's response.

"I won the bet and lost interest in you.", you look at him condescendingly, "I felt bad for you, so right now I'm letting you know the truth. So just leave, forget about all this and carry on with your life. You were nothing but another notch on my bedpost. I would admit, I had fun. Thanks for that."

Seungcheol gets up and thinks about how he made a fool of himself. Thinks about how right he was about people taking advantage of him because of the baggage that comes with him. Thinks about how wrong it was of him to let his guard down.

"Well played, y'all.", he claps and chuckles bitterly with eyes pooling with tears, "Well played.", he then throws a glare at you which sends down a shiver down your & your friends' spine.

"Make sure to not cross paths with me again. Or I'll make you regret your existance."

And you made sure that's the last time he saw you.

"I have to be overseas for an important deal.", Seungcheol says laying back on his office chair, "It will be a one week trip and the connectivity is so bad, I'd probably lose touch with everyone while I'll be there."

You go over to his side and stand behind to rub his shoulders making your husband groan in relief, "Tell me about it, happens with Chan as well. When are you leaving?"

Seungcheol takes your hand and pulls you to make you sit on his lap when he says, "Month end. Y/N, I was thinking that...", he pauses to look at you before continuing, "If you could make some time and come with me. We didn't have our honeymoon yet so maybe we could make a good use of this trip."

You smile softly at him, "I'd love to but remember I had told you about working on a composition, it's release is set on by the month end."

"Oh right!", Seungcheol exclaims as he recollects, "God, I'm sorry it skipped my mind.", he instantly sullens, "But I don't think I'd be able to postpone this trip. I'm sorry I couldn't be there with you."

You peck his pouty lips and trace them with your thumb softly, "I can guess how important it would be, so don't worry. Anyways our first anniversary is coming as well, we can plan something later."

"Woah, we're getting through it?", Seungcheol laughs, "I can't believe, we made it."

"All because of you.", your mood shifts when you say, "Just because you had it in you to give me a second chance. That alone was enough."

"I had loved you back then", Seungcheol exhales sharply because of what he's going to say now. He smiles when he realises his feelings, realises that without hesitation he's ready to say it again. Gently holding your face he confesses, "I think I'm falling for you again."

You go absolutely stiff in his hold.

Seungcheol carefully searches your face for any signs of discomfort or uneasiness but he finds none.

"Am I dreaming?", you ask him animatedly, "Can you pinch me? No..", you shake your head, "Would you say it again?"

His eyes turn into crescent moons, as he flashes you the adorable teethy smile.

"I've fallen for you again.", he admits.

"I-I... Seungcheol.. I--", you stutter unable to wrap your mind around your husband's confession.

It was so hard to let you go. It killed to break your heart. Only if I could turn back time, only if I could tell how much I loved you as well.

The thoughts inside your head become louder making you so overwhelmed that now you are sobbing. It's uncontrollable and it makes Seungcheol have to rock you gently side to side while downing your face on his shoulder.

"I-I can't believe this is happening.", you don't face him, saying the words with your face still perched, while wrapping your arms around him tighter, "I love you so much, I know it'd be hard for you to believe but please just trust me on this."

Seungcheol doesn't speak, but he knows that he wants to believe you. Because love is about taking chances, so he might take it as well.

Once you calm down in his embrace, he watches you. He watches the gear in your head turning so he does what he could do to take your mind off of things.

He calls Wonwoo and says, "Don't let anyone into my cabin until you get another call from me. Also, don't connect anyone to the telecom."

Then he's flipping the phone somewhere and he gives you that one look which is enough to melt you into a puddle before his lips, tongue and hands start to work on your whole body.

"Congratulations!", Chan says hugging you, "I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks for making time and coming to the event. Also, the inspiration comes from you all", you say pulling away, "Credit goes to you too."

"Bluff.", Seungkwan comes to pitch in, "The theme is love, then clearly inspiration must be someone named  'Choi Seungcheol'."

You roll eyes hitting him on the arm but laugh nonetheless.

"Look she isn't even denying!", Mingyu joins in to throw a banter, "But I must say you're okay compared to Eunsoo, she's hopeless."

Chan quirks brow at the statement and asks, "Am I missing something?"

You hook your arm into his, saying, "Eunsoo had an itty bitty crush on Wonwoo at uni days which gradually got away. But now that he's back and into our circle, looking like a four course meal according to her, she thinks her crush is relapsing."

"You make it sound like it's cancer.", Eunsoo finally quips in, "Anyways doesn't matter, there's no scope, I must move on. Good thing Seungcheol took Wonwoo with him, out of sight, out of mind."

"I miss my husband. He didn't even wanna leave for the trip to be with me.", you sigh, leaning on your brother's shoulder, "I can't even contact him. Three more days, ugh sounds like an eternity."

"Oh god, I might puke at the lovesickness.", Seungkwan fake gags, "Disgusting."

"It's good to see that you're happy.", Chan whispers just to you while others indulge in several topics to tease one another, "It's such a relief. I would like to talk to Seungcheol once he's back. If he really loves you and makes you feel like home then I'm ready to mend things as well."

You just nod and let the moment sink in. Your pupils dilate as you see the smiles on your friends' faces who have been there with you through thick and thin. Your mind lingers back the proud expression on your parents face. The heartiest congratulations that you received from your in-laws. You tilt your head to look at your brother who always has been your anchor, your biggest supporter. All of them have been present at the composition release event and now they are present at your home to extend the celebration. The parents take leave after sometime to let the peers have fun.

Your home, as you say it proudly now, a place you share with your loving husband, who has forgiven you for the scarred past and shares companionship with you.

Everything is falling back to place and you wish it stays the same. Your eyes fall heavy and you drift off.

The sleep must have been good because it's 10 in the morning when you wake up to see yourself tucked in sheets in your bedroom. The hall is empty and you immediately understand that your brother must have taken it upon himself to drive away your lovely but clingy-when-drunk friends from your house.

You try to call Seungcheol but as usual he's unreachable, so is Wonwoo, so is everyone who has gone to the trip. Dejected, you leave him a series of undelivered texts in hope it somehow reaches him and decide to take a bath which involves you to be away from your phone, just relaxing music and another round of sleep in the bathtub with your favourite bath bombs.

Not sure how long you've fallen asleep but you're woken up by loud voices from the other side of the door. Quickly freshening up you get ready as your phone keeps ringing or dinging because of notifications. Ignoring that you get out of your bedroom to find very distressed Chan and Seungkwan waiting for you.

"What happened guys?", you ask in concern.

Chan makes you sit and you see the two exchanging nervous glances which in turn makes you nervous as well.

"Y/N..", Seungkwan starts off, he exhales sharply and says, "Your work is being accused of plagiarism."

The ground beneath you slips. You look at Seungkwan and then at Chan.

Chan sounds pissed when he says, "Apparently a local artist has already released the composition five days ago, meaning four days before your release event."

You are panicking, shaking, tears are streaming down your face, "I-I didn't steal anyone's work. I-I have composed them, they're my work. Trust me guys, please..I--"

"We trust you, Y/N.", Seungkwan runs to you and rubs your arms, "I have been with you through it. I have seen it all."

"I was studying it with Kwan before coming here, everything is same. Every piece, every insertion, every note.", Chan says, "It looks like someone wholly copied your work.

Seungkwan sighs, "I feel so ashamed but all I can think of is somefrom the academy doing so."

"That's possible.", Chan asks, "But from what I know no one knew about this except you both. Even the event was announced just before a day or two to the people of academy."

Seungkwan asserts, "Everything was done remotely. Y/N do you recollect telling anyone else about this at any stage apart from Seungcheol?"

"Seungcheol knew?", Chan quips surprised and you are shaking your head.

"No. Leave him out of this, he wouldn't have done anything.", you warn your brother.

"I'm sorry Y/N, but I can't leave anyone out of this.", Chan says, "Someone is trying to harm you and I would see through the end of it. Be it anyone."

Eunsoo and Mingyu are stumbling upon while crossing the threshold. Seungkwan briefs them about what have been deducted till now and they decide to stick by your side while Chan and Seungkwan rushes out to the field to gather evidence and facts.

"I have already talked to my father.", Mingyu informs you, "He himself will aid with any legal advice. Don't worry everything will be sorted out."

"I had a talk with my mother. She also ensured that we'd broadcast only the solid proofs that pertains to the truth. We have faith in you, it'll get over soon.", Eunsoo ensures you, "Infact we have had our reporters dig in the matter as well."

Soon after your parents arrive followed by your in-laws. Your phone keeps ringing and no one allows you to hold it. Eventually, the device is turned off and kept somewhere, out of your reach.

Among all of the ominous thoughts involving losing your career, unable to pursue your passion anymore, being deemed as a thief, outcasted by the society and all others, the one that prevails is would Seungcheol believe you?

Two days go by and there's not much progress. You strike continuously as the most trending person on the internet, on news papers, in some tabloids boldly called out as a thief, the others focused more on why there's no statement from your own company or the Choi's themselves. The only thing that keeps you at bay is Seungcheol's return tomorrow.

You are flabbergasted at how can the two pieces of work be exact same unless someone copied it. You decide to visit the academy and search for any leads. Just as you are about to drive off your phone buzzes.

I have some information that would benefit you. Meet me at The Ritz at 11.

The text was from Jiah and you're instantly drawn to how Jiah could be the one involved in this.

"Let's skip the formalities.", Jiah smiles as she places some documents and an usb drive in front of you.

There's a laptop kept on the table, the screen displaying an audio ready to be played.

"Aren't you eager to know what's happening and why it's happening to you?", Jiah asks with a cunning smile which irks you.

"Stop wasting my time and reveal if you know something.", you snark back, "And don't think I'd believe a word you say without any proof because I don't trust you a bit."

"Seungcheol--"

"Don't you dare bring my husband into this, Jiah!"

Your heart shrinks because of the look Jiah gives you. No way your husband would be involved into all this, no way he'd go as far as to ruin your career.

"I have done it. I have paid a staff in your academy to steal your work, made it release before your event and hence you're being charged with plagiarism.", Jiah confesses and before you could charge her she drops the bomb, "Your husband, Choi Seungcheol is the mastermind behind it."

"I'll cut your tongue for speaking rubbish--"

"How do you think I knew about all this? Who else apart from Seungcheol knew about this?", Jiah asks. Her gaze falls on the laptop and she gestures you to play it.

"Y/N is working on a composition and is planning to release it sometime later. We should use this opportunity to bring her down."

The audio stops and you recognise the voice as your husband's. The jab hits hard, hard enough to make you loose your footing. Jiah is quick to hold you and make you sit on the chair.

"Have a look at these papers."

Your hands are shaky when you pick up the papers. You freeze on reading the heading. Your hands fall to the sides once you finish reading it whole. Those bunch of papers were about transferring your shares of the academy under the Choi's name.

Jiah doesn't give you time to settle as she plays another recording.

"Are the papers ready? What will happen if I take her lifeline away from her?"

"When are you going to take her down? You're unnecessarily stalling time."

"The more I dwell into this act, the more she'll be hurt. Just do what you've been told to and don't act so obvious, specially around Wonwoo, I don't know why but he has been lately saying stuffs. Seems he has grown closer to Y/N and her circle."

You sit there motionless. The person you considered your world was the one planning to stab you.

"You can get these recordings examined.", Jiah tells you, "To be sure that I haven't manipulated or tampered with the recordings."

She takes a sit beside you and observes you carefully. The triumphant smile that graces her lips on seeing you getting trampled, makes her believe that now's the time when she could spew any lies and you'd believe it. She knows she has won over.

"The plan was to take advantage of your helplessness and make you transfer the shares in the disguise of helping you clearing your name.", Jiah leans in closer to your face, "Why do you think Seungcheol is out of country out of all the time? He's trying to build up the urgency so that as soon as he walks in you'd be at his feet asking for help."

Jiah has accepted that she would never have Seungcheol to herself, so not at fear of loosing anything she's going all out as for to separate you two.

"The Choi's are so powerful that no matter how much you try, there's no way you could prove your innocence.", Jiah says as her sinisteric gaze falls on you again, "You can take all these proofs, additionally, I'll even provide the details pertaining to the person who stole your work and make them confess."

"W-Why are you helping me?"

"Either way it breaks you two apart and that's the motive. Knowing the truth would hurt you the most."

Her heels clank loudly as she walks out, leaving you behind, defeated and devastated.

How foolish of you to believe that Seungcheol would forgive you easily? How naive of you that you fell for his act of a doting husband.

You wonder if this is how he had felt after being betrayed by you. You run your hands over your chest to soothe the ache. You scream, throw down anything you could grab, stomp over the place but nothing helps you in calming down.

Three hours have passed and you're still in that damned conference room. Scathed, scrotched and scattered.

You inhale, exhale and repeat. Then you're calling your brother.

"Chan, arrange for a press conference tomorrow evening. Also stop looking further into the case. I have evidence to prove that I'm innocent.", you say into the phone, "Gather everyone at the academy, none of the Choi's though. Ask Eunsoo if they would broadcast it on their network. Tell Mingyu to have Mr. Kim free some time for me this week if possible. Make the checks now, we can't delay it further."

Seungcheol's boarding the plane back home when he comes to know of the situation. He feels sick to stomach when all that's happening feels too known to him. Though he might have wanted this to happen once but now he can't even fantom the thought of doing something so viscious to you.

He calls you but you don't pick up. He calls others, makes Wonwoo call them too but it's fruitless.

He's anxious throughout the way, worried sick, feels guilty for not being by your side when you're going through so much. He hopes you're not beating your much, wants to hold, wants to assure you that everything will be fine, that you have him.

Wonwoo is running through all the red lights equally anxious. He wants to go inside and check upon you but he steps aside as he watches Seungcheol rushing into the house, hoping you'll be okay.

Seungcheol rustles through the corridor and slam opens the door, hurriedly making a sprint inside the house.

It's afternoon but the house, entire hallway is dimly lit. Suddenly the lights go on and he spots you.

Something about you is different, it's almost eerie. The black dress you're wearing, the cold gaze your throwing is unsettling.

"Baby--", you hold out your hand when Seungcheol starts to walk towards you.

Seungcheol halts, he feels the grimness in your aura.

"Welcome back, Seungcheol. I have been waiting for you.", you say apathetically, "Take a seat, I have some things to discuss with you, before I leave for the press conference."

That's when Seungcheol notices your finger void of the wedding ring.

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip. ©️

[vellihor]

heyy i love ur work, wonwoo as ur bf?

notes: at your service!

wonwoo as your boyfriend

the type to have you sit on his lap while he games, letting you play when it's a more laid-back game and giggling whenever you struggle because he finds you so endearing.

also teaches you how to play until you get competitive with him, telling him to stop letting you win because you'll win fair and square. he only chuckles fondly and mumbles a "cute", distracting you and making you lose. (cue the "HEY! that's cheating!" "but i didn't do anything")

loves taking care of you. holds your face, tucks your hair behind your ear and smiles so softly whenever you study too late into the night, murmuring a soft: "let's go to sleep, baby. i don't like seeing you overwork yourself like this, you work so hard."

back hugs + neck kisses. always comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, swaying you both from side to side and pressing gentle kisses on your neck until you turn around to kiss him properly, melting into his touch.

loves having you ride his thigh.

he loves you so much, would literally do absolutely Anything for you. anything you ask, he does with a smile on his face just to see your reactions. you put flowers in his hair and he just keeps them there for the rest of the day, careful not to let them fall off. he lets you try on his glasses. you know. you get it.

whenever you're alone, he reaches his hand under your shirt and holds your bare waist, smiling to himself at the way you shudder and melt into him.

loves sitting with you in a comfortable silence, sitting together while you both do different things. maybe you're watching a drama and he's reading a book, but you're always together. i feel like he'd sit you on his lap.

blows warm air on your hands whenever it's cold and holds both of your hands in his so they're completely covered, staying close to transfer some body heat.

"(y/n)?" "hm?" "i love you."

he does the camera shake thing to you, randomly grabbing your face (gently) and shaking you with a "aaaaaah!" while you just Let Him.

likes taking pictures of you. and when you tell him you need to pose, he waves you off with a "no need, no need". the you're beautiful like this, goes unspoken. you both hear it just fine.

fiddles with your hand, playing with your fingers whenever he's bored.

randomly compliments you. you'll be watching the sunset in silence when you'll turn to him and you see him already looking at you, head tilted while he whispers a soft, "you're beautiful, you know?"

tries to act all nonchalant and chill whenever you do the same thing back, but the redness at the tips of his ears is unmistakable.

[vellihor]

seventeen and being pup/kitty

my thoughts + explanations on whether seventeen give more puppy or kitten energy

masterlist

seungcheol:

puppy. very excitable, always has a lot of energy. the type of puppy to play-wrestle with the other pups and even the kitties too when they want to. never gets mistaken for a kitty, and yet at the same time people are often hesitant to call him a pup. that is, until they see him giggle and his eyes turn into crescents as he collapses into himself while laughing at something the other members have done

jeonghan:

pup, but doesn't mind being called kitty. honestly doesn't really think about it much, and prefers to be called an angel instead anyway. has equal parts pup and kitty behaviourisms, and only comes out as a puppy in the end because of the soft roundness of his looks. also bc despite looking bored and unbothered half the time, he is definitely the Mom Friend and it is rare to find a Mom Friend who is also a kitty.

joshua:

puppy!! kitty-like in looks but is a very very puppy member. so small and cute and adorable and so very pup it almost hurts. the prettiest 강아지 and is honestly more 'puppy' than pup tbh bc he's like . he's a dainty, pretty type of puppy. you look at him and think, this is a precious puppy, so perfect and little and sweet and utterly squishable. on the more mischievous side too, and has definitely learned how to utilise his puppy eyes to get him out of trouble.

junhui:

the kittiest kitty. is so kitty that he's a Kitty. meows at everything. makes cat ears on his head at every given opportunity. has tried to lick the other kitty members before, was punched. none of them quite get his level of kittiness, unfortunately :((

hoshi:

tiger. 

wonwoo:

kitty cat. not so much of a kitty as he is a cat, bc he's calmer and slower and way more unbothered about things compared to jun, who views the world with a kitty-like fascination that wonwoo kind of wishes he has but also doesn't because it looks. so tiring to be so inquisitive and kitty all the time. prefers to sleep instead. or read. or play games. cat in terms of introversion and unbotheredness, but is also the only kitty member who is able to revert into a pup sometimes. (it's all mingyu's fault.) 

woozi:

kitty, and kind of mad about it. wants to be a cat like wonwoo, but he just doesn't have that level of chill enough to get there. kitty because he craves affection, pretends he hates it, but is also absolutely horrible at the pretending so he always ends up getting the amount of affection he desires. feels emotions Really Really strongly, and it's one of the reasons why he doesn't mind being a kitty bc he doesn't think he could deal with not Feeling as strongly as he does. but also doesn't wanna feel to the extent that the pups do, because wow does it look tiring to feel everything to its max 100% of the time

minghao:

a puppy who looks like a kitty. acts like a kitty, too, and won't mind being called one either. he's been called both by various people, but when you watch hao with the people he's most comfortable with, the pup just comes out of him so naturally. gets all cute and soft and his little giggles are just heaven sent and it's like the angels gifted the world with a sweet and adorable puppy. honestly doesn't like being told he's cute like a pup, but does secretly like it when people tell him they can see how he's a puppy. 

mingyu:

PUP. the definition of what a pup is. you look at him and you can immediately tell that's what he is. all bumbling and cute and adorable and loud and hyper and literally possessing all of the qualities of every single puppy ever. the most puppy person to ever puppy.

dokyeom:

the cutest pup! so bright and hyper and happy and has the most adorable puppy eyes. he's never learned how to utilise his puppy eyes properly bc he's never been taught that they can be a weapon to get him what he wants, but if he did… he'd be unstoppable. his eyes go all sad and round and they honest-to-god turn downwards at the corners like some sort of kawaii anime character. the most meltiest chocolate brown puppy eyes ever that make even the coldest kitty members weak for him

seungkwan:

puppy and proud of it. with his big round eyes and cute round cheeks he can't be seen as anything but a puppy. is yappy and hyper and full of energy, just like a pup. gets The Most offended if someone thinks he's a kitty. holds it against them for years and years. refuses to talk to them for minimum two weeks after they tell him he looks like a cat. 

vernon:

a kitty who looks like a puppy. you look at hansol with his big brown eyes and soft brown hair and you think "that's a pup right there" but then you watch him disappear into a room to sleep for three hours straight or watch him zone out in the middle of a group talk or get fascinated by a moving light and you're like . ah i was wrong. this is a kitty. hansol is so kitty cat in his actions but when you first see him he's so soft and bright that you think he's a pup

chan:

pup, but really confused about it. adopts kitty mannerisms from his kitty hyungs and adopts pup mannerisms from his pup hyungs, so honestly he doesn't know whether what he is is actually what he is or if it's… someone else. you know? but really, he genuinely is quite pup bc of his innocence and his pure love and adoration that he holds for his members. really sweet and kind and loves hugging the others, so honestly sometimes it's really obvious that he's a pup

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