#hong jisoo xreader

[toruro]

— ✧ isohel

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

pairing. hong joshua x reader

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

genre. slowburn, modern royalty au, angst, fluff

tags. prince!joshua, developing relationships, slut shaming, allusions / references to greek mythology, dialogue heavy, implied se

fic playlist

w/c. 26.2k

a/n. lwk don't like the beginning but i swear it gets better🙄 thank u @cheolhub for beta reading & @jeonghantis & @gyuswhore for reading it over and helping out w this bc i think i was going insane over this story by myself >_<; ... i highly suggest listening to the song isohel by eden! it was a major inspiration for this whole story and i think it encapsulates the vibes really well c: hope u enjoy!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s easy work, and you love it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You have a lot to get used to.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dear Madam,

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

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

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

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

Thank you,

Hong Royal Counsel

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

All you hear is silence.

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

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

“What the f—”

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

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

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

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

“What are you talking about? Why would—”

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

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

“Then why is he asking for your name?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“All of what?”

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

“She’ll do it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I help you?”

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

“Did they give you a code?”

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

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

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

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

“Right here it says the Advisory Quart?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What kind of projects?” you ask curiously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh, well—”

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

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

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

“It says here ‘Mr. Park.’”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No excuses. Don’t be late again.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Um … watering … the plants?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh for fuck’s sake—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joshua scoffs. “Try me.”

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

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

“Oh yeah, I just want to measure a—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But still,” you mumble.

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

This man is so weird.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean the wrong idea?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh, yeah—you know Latin?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I guess.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Right.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh yeah, sure. Totally believe you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Visiting the greenhouse.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And?”

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

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

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

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

“I—yeah, he was right.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Percy Jackson. Greek mythology?”

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

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

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

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

“What is the point again?”

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

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

“This is a different job though!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Glaring, you chastise him. “Joshua!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A paper?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? No I don’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who knows. Not that you would care.”

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

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

“Congratulations! You now know how I feel.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good work.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And how’s that going?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sounds boring.”

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

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

“Good to hear. Read this part.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Finally! You get it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Joshua told me to give it to you.”

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

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

“You don’t know that!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When you turn a corner, your heart stops.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re a little lost.

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

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

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

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

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

“Slow down!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Or talk to you,” you add.

“What—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know who Seokmin’s dad is.”

“Oh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay?”

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

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

Finally, you nod. “It’s fine.”

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

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

“Was that sarcasm?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“W-what?”

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sol Invictus, huh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t think you’re stupid.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s kind of like—” You.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“God of Sun.”

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

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

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

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

“Of course sir. I understand.”

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

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

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

"Y-yes sir."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What unfortunate circumstances, you think.

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

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

“He knows, Joshua, he knows.”

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

“A guard saw us at the courtyard and—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your father —”

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s my life—why, why not?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joshua is lost.

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

Joshua is lost.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joshua is lost.

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

“She left herself.”

“What are—” Joshua heaves. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Seokmin is stunned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The sun and its sunlight, rotations and revolutions.

Will you think about him?

Joshua doesn’t need to wonder—he knows.

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

He knows.

Eight months and you still hear Joshua’s laugh.

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ve just hit a stump.”

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

Joshua scoffs, “What makes you say that?”

“Joshua, what’s wrong?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Joshua, what are you talking about?”

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

“You’re my son, Joshua.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s beautiful.

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

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

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

Walk the line.

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

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

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

“I thought you might like them.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

find an alternate ending here!

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

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

#joshua hong #seventeen joshua #hong jisoo #hong jisoo xreader #hong jisoo x reader #joshua x you #joshua x reader #seventeen imagines #joshua #joshua hong angst #joshua hong fanfic #joshua hong fluff #hong joshua x reader #hong joshua #hong joshua smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fluff #kpop angst #svt fanfic #svt fluff #svt angst #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #seventeen angst #kpop #📝 writing #isohel

[animeniacss]

So Close Yet So Far - Mingyu x Reader - Chapter 19 - What Have I Done?

Synopsis: Your college friend, Kim Mingyu, has had a grip on your heart since the first day you met. Over the past few years, as you acquired more friendships and memories, those feelings only grew. However, recently, Mingyu has seemed a bit more distant, at least when it comes to any ideas of romance. It only gets worse when rumors fly that he's off to Japan to receive a marriage proposal! Unsure what to do, you wonder how you can keep Mingyu by your side without jeopardizing your friendship or your growing feelings. You never expected that waking up one drunken morning next to two hot angels would be your ticket into Mingyu's heart.

Genre: Romance, College!AU, Modern Fantasy, Comedy, Angsty

Length: approx. 6.8k words

Chapter 19 - What Have I Done?

Mina’s desperate attempt to say your name one more time fell on deaf ears, because you simply repeated your comment: “Don’t. Talk. To. Me.”

“Please, I just have to...”

         “What? What else do you need to take from me?!” You asked. “That’s it! We are done here! You wormed your way into our lives and took everything from us. What else do you want?!” You motioned to the two men on either side of you. “Them?!”

“Woah, wait.” Jeonghan said quickly under his breath.

“My friends?! My college degree?!””

         “No, please.” Mina gulped. 

         “No, you don’t get to say please to me for anything! I cannot believe I let myself get fooled by you! The minute you told me you came here to be Mingyu’s wife i should have know not to trust you! But I’m an idiot, I will admit. The really thought you and I could be friends. But I was wrong. So now you have everything you came here for and you still ask me for more!? Give me a break!” 

         “Hey…” Joshua gripped your shoulder. “Take it easy.” You sniffled, feeling all of the tears you were holding back in the hallway with Mingyu finally begin to spill. 

         “I’m sorry.”

         “No you’re not!” You snapped. By now, the entire room had gone silent, staring at you. Mr. Kim and Mr. Miyou were stunned to silence, watching in shock. “How can you possibly be sorry? I can’t accept your apology!”

         “You need to listen, I-.”

         “I’m done listening! Listening to you got me here in the first place!” You sniffled. “It’s okay if you never liked me, but you claim to love Mingyu and yet you make him suffer like this! I just can’t understand!” Mina finally fell silent, unable to stop you long enough to utter a full sentence. “And you invited me for what? To suffer? It’s cruel after all I did to befriend you and try to see you beyond our feelings. And yet despite all of this, for some reason, I came because I wanted to see if he was truly happy. I just want him to be happy.”

         Mina pursed her lips together. She heard her father approaching, along with hotel security. Joshua and Jeonghan immediately took your arms.

         “We got her.” Joshua said quickly.

         “No need to make a bigger scene.” Jeonghan added. You turned to Jeonghan, who motioned to the door. “Let’s go, okay?” You nodded, before your eyes finally fell to Mingyu, who was standing just behind Mina, his father standing at his side and keeping him from getting closer. You shook your head. 

“Don’t invite me to the wedding.” You said simply. Mingyu’s mouth immediately closed as he watched you walk out, Joshua and Jeonghan on either side of you. The hotel security followed behind, seemingly making sure the three of you actually did end up leaving. When the door closed behind him, Mingyu ran a hand through his hair.

     “Ohhhh God. I fucked up, I fucked up so hard.” He gasped to himself. All he could see was your teary eyes and red face, a sight he would never unsee for as long as he lived. 

              “Don’t let that girl get you down.” His father said, a supportive pat too his shoulder. “Seems she’s crazier than we thought.” Mingyu couldn’t look at his father as he walked away with Mina’s. It took a few seconds for the rest of the party to devolve into its previous chatter, the music slowly replaying upon his father’s request. He watched as Mina immediately turned on her heel, heading down to the other side. Her friends from home immediately got up from their spots and swarmed her, comforting her from that ‘scary encounter’. Mingyu turned to the rest of his friends, and his expression only got more pained when he saw their looks of disapproval. “What do I do?” he choked out. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” 

                “End your engagement.” Seungkwan said simply.

               “But.”

               “End the engagement.” Hoshi repeated.

               “My father will-.”

            “Don’t end it.” A voice behind them alerted all of their attention. Jihoon stood there, hands in his pockets.

            “Pardon?” Minnie asked.

          “Whos side are you on again?” Seungkwan asked. Mingyu watched Jihoon approach him, patting his arm since he couldn’t reach his shoulder. His lips tightened at the realization of the height difference, the one thing that could bring Mingyu any slight bit of amusement in this moment.

        “Don’t dig yourself into any holes. It’ll work out just fine. Just give it some more time. For now.” He pointed to Mingyu’s eyes, which Mingyu only realized now were red and wet with tears. “Keep that expression.”

        “What?” Mingyu tried to turn back to Jihoon for more information, but he too strolled out of the party room, the doors once again closing behind him. He sighed, chewing the inside of his cheek when he heard his name called one final time. He turned his head, seeing Mina reapproaching him. He gasped for a breath of air, shaking his hair.

      “Yes?” he asked. Mina rubbed her eyes, sniffling. Mingyu kept his hands at his sides, despite the natural instinct to offer her a tissue. “Are you alright?”

         “I am. I think I deserved some of that…” she said softly. After a second of scanning the area, her eyes finally landed on his, and widened when she saw how upset he was. “You’re crying?” she asked softly.

         “Can you blame me?” he asked, finally raising a finger to rub his eyes. 

         Mina sighed. “I want to go home.” she said. “I’m exhausted.” Mingyu turned to his friends, who simply turned back to the table, forcing themselves out of the conversation. He looked to the door you strolled out of a few minutes ago. Sighing, he nodded.

         “So do I.” he said softly. He knew, however, the car he was going to get into would not take him home, but to the buidling he shared with Mina. He felt as though he deserved it. 

🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶So Close Yet So Far🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶

Mina sat on the bed in her room. She could hear Mingyu getting ready for bed himself in the other room, as he always did. She sat for a minute, listening to distant rustlings down the hall before rising up and heading down there herself. The hallway felt longer than it usually did tonight. She walked towards the door, reaching out and knocking on it once. Twice. Three times. When there was still no answer, Mina called out. “Mingyu?”

     After an eternity of silence, the door propped open. Mingyu rested himself on the door frame, and Mina felt herself take a second to take all of him in. He was in a loose tee shirt and sweatpants, his hair still a bit damp after a shower. This would be the part of the fairytale where he would smile down at her with his infectious grin, pulling her close to him and whispering sweet nothings about how amazing the night was.

     But as Mina recalled earlier in the evening, this was no fairytale. Mingyu’s smile was long since erased from the pages of her mind, and no matter how hard she tried, only blurry memories came to her now. Mingyu crossed his arms, resting his side against the door frame. Instead, he greeted her with puffy cheeks, and bags of exhaustion under his eyes that weighed his entire face down. “Yes?” He finally asked.

   “Uh.” Mina was suddenly at a loss for words. All she could picture was Mingyu staring you down in the hotel hallway. His eyes prickling with tears as he tried everything he could think of in the moment to suppress them. She knew what she wanted to say to him, she had been practicing it for weeks specifically for tonight. Why don’t you join me? We are engaged, after all. The words seemed so easy to say, but why were they stuck in the back of her throat? She opened her mouth one more time, and saw Mingyu patiently waiting for her to speak. I can’t. She thought, already anticipating the answer she feared most. She shook her head. “Never mind.” She finally said. “I’m sorry. Goodnight.”

        Mingyu nodded as Mina made her way back to her room. She heard him close his door only after she closed her own. Resting against the back of the door, she felt her legs give out all of the energy she had been trying her best to maintain through the day. Her feet were still throbbing from her heels, unable to support her anymore as she sank to the floor. Pulling her legs to her chest, she buried her head in her knees.

         When Mingyu’s smile did form clearly in her mind, you were at his side. Fighting over photos during the fireworks, playing chicken in the ocean, nestled close during breakfast the last morning as he tried to steal some of your bacon. 

         It’s okay if you never liked me, but you claim to love Mingyu and yet you make him suffer like this! I just can’t understand!

It was a cruel irony, but it was one Mina felt she deserved after what she has done. The pain in your voice sat like a dagger in her chest, and she curled up into herself in hopes to push that feeling away. 

   “What have I done?” she muttered to herself. “I’ve ruined everything. I’ll never see him smile again…”

🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶So Close Yet So Far🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶

         Only son of Kim Law Firm celebrates new engagement – Christmas wedding in the works!

        You scoffed at the news title that was plastered on the front of the newspaper that morning and every morning since, tossing it into the garbage so you no longer had to look at the photos of the two together. It made you sick.

     It had been a month since the engagement party, and school already back into the swing for the new fall term. Mingyu had yet to show up on campus, and once again the rumors as to why began to spread. Only this time, they were backed up by evidence. Where they even rumors in that case?

     “I bet his new wife doesn’t want him on campus with some other girls…”

      “I thought the same thing! I wouldn’t let my husband anywhere near his first love. He’s probably taking all online classes.”

      “That’s so sad. He made my Korean law class just a bit more bearable, even if it was just the back of his head I saw…”

    “Why is this happening again?” you sighed, resting your head on the table of the library. You and your friends had agreed to meet up in the library that afternoon after the lunch rush came to an end. The rumors continued to follow you, latching onto you and sucking the life from your veins like vicious and toxic mosquitos on a hot summer day.

   “Don’t listen to them. They have no idea what they’re talking about.” Minnie assured, patting your shoulder.

  “Yeah.” Hoshi said. You finally lifted your head up when you heard footsteps approaching. Looking over, you saw Joshua and Jeonghan taking their seats beside you. They hadn’t mentioned Mingyu since you three left the engagement party, nor had they checked their symbols on your hands. You knew better than to ask, though each day you were itching to know even more. Maybe it was those pesky mosquitos leaving bites.

    “Please tell Jeonghan he’s in charge of dinner tonight.” Joshua said, his light-hearted comment causing you to look at him.

      “I cooked last night. You need to start pulling your weight.” Jeonghan sneered, poking Joshua’s head as he snickered in amusement.

       “I did breakfast.” He reminded. You rolled your eyes, closing your textbook. The duo was still playfully bickering until you quickly motioned your book in their direction. They flinched a bit, eyes wide as you simply set the book down and reopened to your page. “Hey!” He pouted. 

      “I’m not in the mood. You both want to keep staying at my house, you figure out the cooking.” You could practically hear the duo whine, and it only made you smirk as you flipped through the pages. 

    “You’re not a very nice tenant.” Joshua teased, but immediately looked away when you shot daggers in his direction.

Despite what had happened, and the duos hesitance to talk about it, you three had found a pretty comfortable routine in your apartment. One cooks breakfast, the other cooks dinner, and you always have a delicious meal waiting for you after a long day. At first the duo did it to help you as you got over your emotions. However, it remained this way even a month later. None of you complained. Well, until now. “I think we should get something to eat tonight, anyway.” You said. 

      Hoshi gasped, leaning forward. “Dinner party at your house?” he asked.

    “What?” Despite the shock of the question, a grin formed on your face.

  Minnie’s eyes widened. “I’ll bring the drinks.” Minnie cheered.

  “I’ll grab snacks.” Seungkwan said, and Hoshi agreed to help.

  “ Chicken .” Joshua and Jeonghan beamed. You laughed a bit.

        “Uh, okay then. We can study, then.” Closing your textbook seemed to seal the deal. The idea of having plans tonight made you feel pretty good for the night ahead. You scanned the table as everyone seemed to chat with one another about the night ahead, seemingly more excited the more options were thrown onto the table. However, for some reason, you pictured the night ahead, a thought creeped into your head. One thought that you assumed had long since abandoned you. 

              I wonder what Mingyu’s doing tonight….

🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶So Close Yet So Far🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶

       “We’ll be right back!” Joshua called, both him and Jeonghan already out the door. You waved them off, taking the time alone to set up some snacks for your friends when they arrived. The group chat was buzzing with everyone sending texts about their arrival. Hoshi kept spamming the chat with photos, and you smiled at each one came into view.

          Prawn-flavored chips.

          Ice cream.

         Seungkwan’s face.

         A blurry picture of Seungkwan’s face.

         Hoshi giving a piece sign.

           Jihoonie would totally love that last one. You snorted at Minnie’s text as it flashed onto the chat. Both Hoshi and Jihoon frantically began telling her through text that she needed to mind her business, and it only made you laugh harder. As you finished setting up the last of the snacks in bowls, you sat on the couch. Immediately after sitting, your eyes came face to face with the dust-collecting snowglobe on your book shelf. You exhaled. “I’ve been meaning to put those away.” you mumbled to yourself in hopes it would finally give you the motivation to do so. It didn’t. Instead, you were brought back to when Mingyu first gave that to you. 

         “Wow, how cute!” Mingyu smiled as you took it into your hands, examining it. “Is this the Statue of Liberty inside?”

         “Yeah.” he said happily. “It’s much bigger up close.” You laughed a bit, shaking the globe and watching as the fake snow danced around it. “I hope you like it.”

         “I love it!” You gasped. “I feel like I’m really there just by looking.” Mingyu smiled a bit as you shook it once again, continuing to circulate the little snow particles inside. “It’s so cute…” you breathed again in excitement. 

         “Yeah…” Mingyu breathed, looking at your expression brighten the more you shook the globe. He coughed into his hand. “Hey, uhm…I wanted to tell you something.” He said. Your eyes shot up to him, sparkling in excitement as you waited to hear what else he had to say. “Ah.” Mingyu laughed nervously to himself. “I-.”

         “Hm?” You cocked an eyebrow. 

         “...Want to see pictures of Time Square? It’s huge.” When he held up his phone, you gasped, nodding in excitement. Mingyu scooted closer to you, holding out his phone as he began scrolling through the pictures.

         A small smile formed on your lips as you remembered the excitement you had as he showed you pictures of New York, telling you stories of him time seeing all of the major buildings in the area. It was fascinating. “He must have wanted to tell me how he felt then, too…” you mumbled to yourself, chuckling a bit at the realization that was just a little bit to late. Eyes fell to the windchime above your balcony entrance, and the same thing: Mingyu gave it to you, tried to confess, yet got cold feet and simply told you about his trip. Again, the smile forming on your face was widening, and you chuckled.

         “...I really need to take this stuff down.” you said again, biting your lip. Before you could do last minute spring cleaning, you heard a knock at the door. Thinking it was Minnie or Seungkwan, you hopped up. “Coming!” you called. You picked up your phone, taking a minute to scan through the constant flow of messages to see if one of them said they had already arrived. None did. “Huh.” You pursed your lips, heading to the door anyway. Another knock, and you picked up the pace. “Sorry. Coming!” you called once again.

           Reaching forward, your hand gripped the doorknob, turning it and pulling the door towards you. As it swung open, you looked ahead to see a familiar head of long, black hair. A familiar porcelain face and a familiar set of moles decorating that face. Déjà vu raced through your brain, a marathon being ran in a matter of seconds. “Mina?” you finally managed to gasp out.

       “Hey.” She smiled softly. “Bad time?”

You stared at Mina in awe for a few seconds. “What…” you felt your breath catch in your throat. “What are you doing here?” You asked. Mina seemed to think of her answer for a second.

        “I wanted to talk to you.” She finally chose to say. “Is this a bad time?”

        “Uh, yeah.” You said. “My friends are coming over and-.”

        “I’ll be quick. I’m sorry. I know I always drop by at the worst time and leave a mess behind.” You felt the sadness in her voice as she said that despite her forcing out a laugh. That only made it more obvious. “Please.” She said.

        “…Okay.” You finally said, motioning her inside. Mina nodded, taking her shoes off before padding into the apartment. You motioned her to the couch, where she sat herself down. “Do you want something to drink?”

        “Oh, no. It’s okay.” She said. You watched as she looked around from her spot on the couch. Her eyes fell on every Knick-knack and souvenir she could find. “I think this is the first time I’ve actually been in your apartment for as long as I’ve known you.”

        “Yeah…” you sat down on the chair, looking at her. “Now, what did you want to talk about?” Mina seemed shocked when you didn’t continue to entertain her with some small talk, but it made her smile.

        “Right. I didn’t expect to come in and be treated like a friend after everything.” You watched Mina open up her purse, pulling out a small white envelope and handing it to you. She saw you hesitate, but it only made her push it closer. “It’s not what you think.” She finally said. You took the envelope into your hands, pressing the paper just a bit to see if it would provide a clue as to its contents. “Promise you won’t open it right now.” She said.

        “Why?” you asked.

        “Just my request...” She said simply. You arched an eyebrow.

        “Well, when will I be able to?” you asked. Mina laughed a bit.

        “When I leave, if you want.” You scoffed a bit at the vagueness of the response, setting the envelope in your lap. You looked up at Mina again, wondering if that was the end of the conversation. You could hear your phone buzzing on the table. It was only a matter of time before your friends arrived, and you were hoping Mina would be long gone before then. “I want to say one more thing before I go.”

        “Okay.” You said simply.

        “I’m sorry. Truly.” You had to suppress a laugh, looking away for a minute to collect yourself. “I’m serious. I’m sorry.”

        “You had to come all the way here for that? It could have been a text. You said that when this whole thing started. You said it at the party. Yet, you don’t seem that sorry considering you’ve continued forcing Mingyu to live a lie.” Mina nodded.

        “I know.” She said. “I’ve tried making the best of our situation. I thought once Mingyu started classes again, and interning with his father at the firm, he would start to feel better about the entire thing. I thought it would take his mind off of…” when she trailed off, you had to chew your bottom lip. Mina sighed before continuing. “But it didn’t work. It only made things worse. I’ve spent this entire two months trying to make everything feel as normal as possible. At every corner, I’ve failed.” She sighed. “But I think I’ve failed from the very beginning. I joined the game midway through and thought I could win. I told myself I wouldn’t cheat, but I snuck myself to the finish line at the very end. And now I feel dirty.”

        “You should.” You covered your mouth when those words escaped your lips. Mina looked shocked only for a second, eyes darting up at you. “That wasn’t-.”

        “No.” she said quickly. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be proud of how I acted. I told myself I would win Mingyu’s heart fairly. I didn’t want him to be with me for selfish reasons. But when I saw you and him so happy in Jeju, watching him put all of his efforts into you, and knowing that I foolishly chose to help you win, jealousy hit me out of nowhere. I acted brashly and I’m sorry.”

        “…It’s nice to know that you’re just as ashamed of your actions as the rest of us were.” You said. “I really thought we were going to be good friends like you promised.”

        “I know. I burned that bridge on my own. I’m sorry.”

        “But there’s nothing apologizing will do now.” You said. “You did what you did and now you’ve won. Mingyu is yours. He’s chosen you.” Mina chuckled a bit to herself, the comment seeming to hurt her more than you would think. “...Am I wrong?” you asked curiously. 

Mina glanced at you. “I…I can’t say.” Mina said simply. “I can only say that my methods weren’t…what I wanted them to be.” 

        A snort. “If he thinks any of that was true after everything we’ve been through, then he might not have really loved me at all.”

        Mina smiled. “You’re all he talks about.” She said. “Even now. Every story I manage to get out of him, or hear him talk about to someone else, is a story that has some connection to you.” Hearing that made you finally go quiet. “I’d be jealous if it wasn’t the only time he smiled recently.”

        You leaned back in your seat, finding the right words before you allowed yourself to speak. Was she trying to make amends? Or was she trying to gloat? You felt a weird tingle of guilt course through your veins. “Mina.” You finally said, and she looked over. “I need you to promise me something if you intend to see this marriage through to the end.” Mina watched you get up, walking over to the little snow globe collecting dust on your bookshelf, picking it up and brushing it with your hands. “Promise you’ll be good to him. He’s a good man who doesn’t want people to get hurt. He only gets mad when it’s for those same people that he really cares about.” Mina watched as you passed her the little snow globe. “As you know, he always buys gifts. After a while, when time passed and wounds heal, he’ll probably start buying you gifts. You should act surprised every time, it makes him happy.”

        Mina brushed her fingers along the globe as well, a few extra dust particles fluttering down onto the floor as she did so. “You did something selfish but I don’t think you’re inherently bad. He’ll come around one day.”

        Mina didn’t believe those words you said for a second, but you didn’t think you believed them either. You just wanted to end the conversation before the lingering feelings began creeping up on you once again. Feelings you long since tried to forget. Déjà vu was a vicious beast, it seemed. Mina finally rose from her spot on the couch, handing you back the snow globe. She watched how delicately you took it into your hands again, smiling down at it briefly before setting it away once more. “I should get going. I’ve held you up long enough. Thank you for talking to me.”

        “Sure.” You said softly, walking Mina to the door. You opened it once more, watching as she walked out. She turned to you once more.

        “Bye.” She said. You only waved, nodding your head as Mina finally made her way to the elevator. You only watched her depart for a second, before closing the door. Silence reentered the apartment, only the sound of your feet padding against the floor as you picked up the white envelope. You shook your head, opening the side table drawer and sticking it beside the TV remote, slamming it closed. “Yeah, right.” You muttered to yourself. When you felt your eyes begin to water, you walked back over to the snow globe, holding it in your hands. You shook it a few quick times, watching as the snowflakes fluttered around the plastic Statue of Liberty. The memory again flooded your mind and you smiled to yourself. 

         A loud bang from behind you startled you, your hands jolting up in shock. A scream of shock erupted from your lips and you watched as the snowglobe fell to the floor, the glass shattering around your feet. 

         “Hey! We are here!” Hoshi called, foot extended outward. He and Jihoon’s hands were filled with bags of snacks, hence his extended foot to open the unlocked door. The duo walked in just as you knelt to the floor. “Hm? Sorry, did I scare you?” Hoshi laughed sheepishly. You did not respond however, your hands frantically picking up the Statue of Liberty. In your rescue attempt, your finger nicked one of the glass shard, and you cursed under your breath. 

         Jihoon set his bags on the table, walking around the couch to you. “Hey. Are you - oh.” He watched as you looked up, smiling a bit.

         “Heh. Sorry.” you said, feeling your eyes water. “You guys scared me.” Jihoon and Hoshi shared an expression, one of pity you couldn’t see behind your watery eyes. However, you did see Hoshi come to you side, resting his head on your shoulder and rubbing your arm as Jihoon knelt down and began picking up all of the glass shards. 

🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶So Close Yet So Far🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶

        “Try it.”

        “No, Jihoon.” Jeonghan said for what felt like the billionth time. He motioned a can to Joshua.

        “Jisoo-Hyung?”               

        Joshua cocked an eyebrow as he looked down at the fallen angel before him. He was holding a beer out in their direction. Jihoon’s smile only got wider as he motioned it closer.

        “Absolutely not.” Jihoon scoffed, leaning back in his seat as he cracked the beer open himself. He pouted a bit, putting the drink to his lips and taking a sip.

   ��    “I’m going to need eternal drinking buddies! Come on. It’s not that bad.”

        “No.” The duo said again. When Jihoon tried to encourage them again, they both responded by sticking pizza into their mouths to avoid the conversation. It made you laugh a bit.

        “You have plenty of drinking buddies right here.” You said, patting Hoshi on the shoulder. He set his beer down, already red in the face as he looked up at you. “Right, Hoshi?”

        “Aaah, yeah.” He smiled, completely unaware of what you were even talking about. Jihoon immediately leaned forward, handing him a water. “Aaaah, for me? Awwwww, Wooziiiiiii.” He giggled, and Jihoon couldn’t hold back his amused smirk.

        “Take it, dummy.” He said. It took a second, but Hoshi popped open the bottle and took a long sip, which you saw finally relaxed Jihoon. The night had been pretty eventual so far, the group eating and drinking the night away as they chatted about anything and everything. Studying, the reason for the late-night visit in the first place, was put on the back burner for loud laughter and snacking. It was much better this way. The current event was watching a very drunk Hoshi and an almost as drunk Seungkwan encourage the entire group to play a game of ‘Hongsam’.

        “Not when you’re that drunk.” Minnie said, grinning behind the head of her bottle. Hoshi shot up.             

        “Yes Hongsam.” He sang, wiggling his hips.

        “Everybody Hongsam.” Seungkwan stood up and did the same thing, hoping it would encourage the group to join in. However, when he noticed he was the only one doing it, he blinked. “Hey now….” And the room erupted into laughter.

        “Absolutely not.” You said behind laughter, sipping your beer.

        “It kind of looks like fun.” Joshua said.

        “Then you play.” You grinned. Joshua smiled at you as you took another sip, letting out a deep sigh. “Man, it’s hot in here. I’m going to get some fresh air.”

        The idea of you leaving the area perked Joshua’s ears to that instead, forgetting the game even existed. “I’ll come too.” Joshua said quickly, following you out the door. Jeonghan’s eyes, which were amused watching the drunk duo goof off, shot to Joshua as he watched his friend follow behind you, opening the door to the balcony and allowing you to step out first. He didn’t even look back, instead just closing the door behind the both of you.

“It’s about time.” Minnie said, making Jeonghan look over.

“What?”

“With Mingyu out of the picture, I was waiting for the moment Joshua would finally grow a pair and confess. Seungkwan owes me ten dollars!”

“I do not! I do not bet with the likes of you.” Jeonghan bit his lip as the room continued to fill with playful banter, his eyes locked on the balcony. He could only see the both of you a bit, the curtain blocking most of his view. Jihoon noticed the angel’s sudden change in demeanor.

        “You sure you don’t want that drink?” he asked only more time, but only got an annoyed glance in response. “Okay…”

🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶So Close Yet So Far🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶

        “I thought you were going to play Hongsam.” You said, looking to Joshua as he joined you outside. He rested his elbows against the balcony.

        “I’m not going to be the only one entertaining those two.” He joked, and you had to laugh a bit. You looked down at the world below from your balcony, before taking another swig of your drink. “Besides, it’s nicer out here.” Joshua glanced to your hand which Hoshi and Jihoon had bandaged after your cut. “Are you okay?”

“Hm?” you looked down at your bandage, a bit of dried blood poking through. “Oh, yeah.” You assured. Maybe it was the drinks, but guilt began bubbling deep into your chest as you spoke up once more. “Joshua. I’m sorry I messed everything up.”  

        “What?” Joshua looked over at you.

        “I couldn’t get you guys back into heaven. Now, you’re both stuck here until I get with Mingyu. That’ll never happen now.” You let out a dry laugh, and Joshua frowned.

        “We’re the ones that knew the risk from the beginning. Don’t blame yourself. We could have done more, too.” He sighed. “I could have.” 

        “But still-.”

        “I said don’t blame yourself. Jeonghan wouldn’t want you to, either.”

        “Okay.” You sighed, defeated. Joshua watched as you finished your beer, setting it down on the floor of the balcony. Your elbows loosened, allowing your hands to dangle a bit over the balcony, eyes staring straight ahead. “Are you guys going to live here forever?”

        “Do you want us to?” he grinned a bit when he heard you laugh.

        “It definitely is less lonely with you two here. But we’ll have to actually invest in nicer beds and maybe more space.” Joshua was now that one to laugh. “Let’s go house hunting.”

        “That means we’ll need jobs.” Joshua sighed. “I never thought an angel like me would be sending out job applications on earth.” You smiled as Joshua playfully dropped his head loose on his neck. “Oh, how the mighty fall.”

        “For someone who calls Jeonghan dramatic, you’re really dramatic.” Both of you shared a laugh in the cool night air. Joshua glanced over at you one more time. He bit his lip for a second, before finding himself unable to hold back as he asked you a very important question.

        “Can I hold your hand?” Confused and stunned expressions led him to clarify. “I want to see my symbol…”

        “Oh.” You laughed nervously, turning to him. Joshua watched you extend your hand to him, which he gently took into his own. He stared at it for a minute, as if he was thinking. It made you smile. “Did you forget how to do it?” you asked playfully.

        “Heh. No.” He assured. His thumb rubbed over the back of your hand for a second, before he finally closed his eyes. He felt what little angel power he had in his body to summon the contract seal. Is it even there? He thought to himself. If it’s not, there is absolutely no going back. One of his eyes popped open, studying your expression. You were looking back out at the skyline as you waited. The moonlight sparkled along your features, your eyes dancing along to the stars in the sky, studying each one. He felt himself grip your hand a bit tighter when you smiled, seemingly catching a constellation in your sights. I won’t be able to go back. If it’s not there, if it’s red, I’ll use this as a chance to tell her-.

        “Uh…Joshua…” the nervousness in your voice made Joshua’s eyes pop open, his cheeks flushed as he tried to pull himself from his thoughts. So much for his chance, he was to flustered now. He followed your gaze, your wide and curious eyes now staring directly at your hand. His eyes followed, and immediately, he saw the little check floating above your hand. “It’s….”

        “It’s white.” He breathed out, a mix of relief and shock. Immediately, the both of you looked up at each other, eyes wide. Joshua gripped your hand, looking down at it once again. “It’s white! It’s white again!”

        “What does that mean?!” You shouted.

        Both of you went silent, turning back to the living room. Joshua wasted no time fling the balcony door open, the loud thud of the large door crashing against its hold startling the entire crew.

        “JEONGHAN!” You both shouted, making him immediately hop out of his seat.

🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶So Close Yet So Far🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶

        “I’m home.” The sound of the sink running in the kitchen signals for Mina to make her way down the hall. She heads that way after taking her shoes off. When she pokes her head in, Mingyu only looks in her direction. “Hey.” She smiled sweetly.

        “Hey.” He points to the fridge. “I saved some of my lunch, if you’re hungry.”

        “Ah.” Mina smiled a bit. “Thank you. That’s thoughtful.” Mingyu nodded, turning back to the sink to finish with some of the dishes he had started with. Mina rested against the door frame, watching his back silently. “Mingyu.” She said, but he only hummed. “Remember when we went to the cherry blossom festival in the spring?”

        Mingyu nodded his head, not once looking up from the bowl he was scrubbing. “With my friends? Yes.” He said. Mina nodded.

        “Would you want to go again next spring?” Mingyu shrugged at the question.

        “Maybe.” He said. Mina nodded. Mingyu then stopped the dishes, finally looking back in her direction. She instinctively stood up straight. “Oh.” He motioned to the kitchen table in the corner by their bay window. “I took the liberty of skimming through some of these when I got the mail. I was curious.” He picked one up, flipping through it casually before turning the page in her direction. Her eyes followed his finger as he tapped on a set of beautiful Christmas flowers. “These are nice.”

        Mina felt her heart speed up, eyes sparkling. He’ll come around. “You think so?!” She asked. Mingyu nodded, and Mina looked at the burgundy red flowers nestled in beautiful green leaves. The wintery background of the picture only enhanced the Christmassy vibes of the flowers. Mingyu turned the page back to him, smiling a bit to himself as he nodded.

        “I’ve really fallen in love with this color in the past year…” he said. Mina’s smile dropped as Mingyu set the magazine down on the table, making his way back over to the counters. Mina watched him grab a sponge and start to wipe some of the counters down. She looked over at the flowers once more, trying to recall where she had seen that color before. The more she thought about it, the more images flashed into her brain.

        “She does look so pretty in that dress.” Mina whispered to herself.

        “What?” Mingyu looked over, eyebrows furrowed together as he tried to figure out what she was whispering about. He saw Mina closed the magazine and set it back down, an obvious look of discomfort on her face. “Hm? Are you okay?” Mina walked over to Mingyu without an answer, taking his hands tightly. He dropped the sponge that was in his hands, glancing down at it for a second. “Hey.”

        “Let’s go on a trip.” She said quickly. Mingyu arched an eyebrow, but Mina was already dragging Mingyu out the door, slipping on the fastest pair of shoes they could as they made their way to his car in the garage.

        The drive was quiet, but not in a way Mingyu had found himself used to in the past. Mina looked out the window the entire trip, hands in her lap as she gripped her pocket book. Mingyu sighed, running a hand through his hair as he turned the next corner. 

         “She really did think she was talking to you.” Mina said, the sudden sound of her voice causing Mingyu to look over at her. She turned to him. “At the beach house.”

         “Ah….” he nodded. Mina sighed.

         “I was right on the balcony. I saw it all. Jeonghan came to get her, and she said goodbye to Mingyu.” Mingyu gripped the wheel.

         “Why are you telling me now?” he asked curiously.

         “I thought you should know.” she said simply. “I know it really hurt you, and her. Not only that, but it hurt Joshua. He didn’t do anything wrong. I was jealous.” Mingyu nodded his head.

         “Thank you.” he said. Mina smiled a bit, looking down at her pocketbook. She admired the cherry blossom keychain that jingled with every bump Mingyu hit on the drive, and she took it gently into her hands. 

        “How cute! Thank you Mingyu!”

        “I figured you’d like it since you seemed to enjoy the festival.”

        “I didn’t buy you a gift.”

        “Don’t worry. It’s from friend to friend. Thank you for being so cool with everything at breakfast.”

        “No problem…”

        “I’m hoping next year I’ll be able to take my friend to the festival. We can go together. She’s been telling me how badly she’d love to see them in person.”

        As Mingyu pulled up in the driveway of his father’s home, Mina was relieved to see her father’s car also there. Mingyu slowed the car in the driveway, and when it came to a stop, Mina was already out of the car. He watched her speed walk up the driveway, bag gripped tightly in her hands. Mingyu slipped out of the car as well, beeping it to ensure it was locked before following after her. “Mina!” He called, but there was no answer.

        Mina walked past every single worker in the house as they greeted her, Mingyu quickly following behind and saying his own greeting to them followed by a frantic slew of ‘sorry’. “Mina.” He called again. “What are you doing?” He was horribly confused to what had her locked and loaded right as they pulled into the driveway. However, when he saw Mina turn down a very familiar corridor with a very familiar set of doors at the end of the hall, Mingyu felt dread in his stomach. “Mina.” He called again, but it was too late.

        Mina swung the doors of the office open, alerting both her father and his own. Mingyu hurried behind her, finally alerting her attention to him for a second. “What are you doing?” he asked. She only offered him a smile, before turning to her and Mingyu’s fathers.

        “What’s the problem, honey?” her father asked, standing up from his spot.

        “Father.” She took a deep breath. “I’d like to end my engagement.”

Return to Kpop Masterlist Return 97/98/99 Line Masterlist

Next / Previous

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen reader insert #scoups #seungcheol #jeonghan #joshua hong #hong jisoo #junhui #jun #woozi #jihoon #hoshi #soonyoung #wonwoo #dokyeom #seokmin #minghao #the8 #myungho #mingyu #kim mingyu #mingyu xreader #mingyu fluff #mingyu imagine #seungkwan #vernon hansol chwe #vernon

[toruro]

if ur thots are open I feel the need to spread my on pussy spanker hao and shua I feel like they'll be so mean or I'm just horny atp

(ps. Idk if this is over your guidelines because I didn't see anything about it but have a good day)

a/n. smut (18+), ugh yes hao and shua are secretly super super mean ... i wrote abt pussy slapper hao here so >_< let's talk abt pussy slapper shua ...

his eyes crinkle up into that mean look, your legs kicked up and over his shoulders so he's perfectly settled between your legs. "'shua," you call out to him softly, voice barely above a whisper.

"what is it baby?" he croons in a sickeningly sweet voice, hot breath falling on your pretty, soaked folds.

a soft huff falls from your lips as you whine, "gimme something ... please 'shua ..." and then you feel it—the hot, sharp sting and then a blooming ache spreading through your core as your cunt throbs for more.

"gettin' impatient?" joshua asks condescendingly, raising a brow at you as your hips buck up in search for some, for any friction. there it is again, his hand cracking down on your clit as you moan out his name. he chuckles lowly, rubbing his fingers through your slick folds. "can't believe this is turning you on ... not much of a punishment if you're enjoyin' this as much as you are ..." his voice trails of as you look up at him with pleading eyes. "maybe i should stop ..." he thinks aloud, starting to lift himself up from between your legs.

your eyes widen and your hand shoots out to grab his shoulder, holding him down. "joshie ... please," you mumble, nearly on the verge of tears from how your cunt aches to just feel something. and holy shit, joshua can't hold himself back when you say his nickname so sweetly, his pupils dilating at just the sound itself.

letting himself fall back down between your legs, he lets out a heavy sigh. "alright pretty girl," he murmurs. "but you gotta be good for me, can you do that?"

"yes!" you agree, eagerly nodding your head. "'m gonna be your good girl."

"there she is," joshua praises, bringing one hand to rest gingerly over your folds. "can my good girl count for me?"

"y—ah!" you moan when his hand smacks your cunt.

"mm, that doesn't sound like a number to me baby," he chides, and heat rushes to your face.

"o-one," you say quickly.

"atta girl."

#seventeen joshua #joshua smut #joshua x you #joshua x reader #hong jisoo xreader #hong jisoo x reader #hong jisoo #svt smut #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #svt reactions #seungcheol x reader #seventeen smut #💌 drabbles

[toruro]

svt + them coming home after a tough day

a/n: sorry, i get so carried away while writing these i don't even realize how long they get ajdskdsk

w/c: 3.0k

warnings: sexual content in some (it's not super descriptive), face fucking, oral (m receiving), a little bit of angry sex, lmk if i'm missing something

seungcheol

definitely is constantly exhausted just because he has to take care of so many other people so he hardly has time to focus on himself. he finds is so easily to just collapse into you when he gets to see you like i'm saying you hear the door open and before you even have time to get up from the couch he's just already slumped on top of you. he'd murmur something like, "missed you," softly as you adjusted your arms around him, gently massaging your fingers into his scalp. yes seungcheol LOVES to be the caregiver—the protector—but sometimes, especially on tough days like these, he loves to be babied. he wouldn't need to say anything, because him acting like this was enough to let you know that it was one of those days, and that all you needed to do was give him the care and attention he deserves. he'd ask to take a shower together, and although you know he means for it to be a way to hold you close and feel safe in your proximity, you can't help but feel the need to suck him off too. of course, he doesn't mind—welcomes it with open arms. after the shower head, you'll wash his hair for him and finally settle into bed extra early so that he can quietly tell you about his day while some songs play in the background.

jeonghan

i feel like he'd find it a bit hard to directly ask for help or comfort just because he's so used to taking care of others (like cheol) but is also somewhat reserved (not like cheol!). you still know him too well and he loves you so much for it, but he's always so surprised by how perceptive you are. he'll make his way into your apartment, and you immediately would notice how he shut the door harder than usual; jeonghan hardly ever gets angry at people, rather objects, so you take this as your first sign that something's up. then he'll be a little—just a little—more brisk with his responses when you're trying to make conversation. finally, when he turns down your offer of a chocolate, you know something's going on. you'll have to practically force the truth out of him and when he finally confesses that he's just been having a hard day, your heart sags. you hug him as he sits in the chair in the dining room and you stand, pushing his face into your chest as you rest your chin on the top of his head. after a few moments like this, jeonghan finally brings his arms up to wrap around your waist and hold you closer, mumbling something softly. "thank you for always being here." you almost want to scold him for thanking you, but you figure just kissing him on the cheek will let him know that he doesn't have to thank you for this.

joshua

of all the members, i feel like specifically joshua (and minghao) really values communication above all else. in joshua’s case, that’ll be as much as just texting you a sad face a few hours before he comes home, letting you know that it’s one of those days :( he won’t go into detail over text, rather settling for laying down on your lap when he gets home and quietly telling you about everything. it’s less about asking you for advice and more about being comfortable and honest with you about his emotions. when he’s done you’d offer to order his favorite takeout and he’d welcome the idea. after placing the order, he’ll just sit slumped next to you on the couch, fingers playing with yours until he grabs you by the waist and pulls you onto his lap. you’ll be making out sloppily for a few minutes before you sneak a hand in his pants, drinking in his soft gasps of, “baby, please.” basically you give him a hand job and when you’re done he just holds you close, resting his chin on your shoulder while you say your “i love you’s.”

jun

soft. like really soft and clingy and like the moment he comes home he’ll drop everything and crawl into the spot on the sofa next to you, pressed up as physically close as possible. literally will not let you go even when you pepper him with kisses and tell him you need to go prepare dinner. you’ll have to literally pull both of you up since his hands’ll be circled around your waist CONSTANTLY. like he will not let go. even when you’re in the kitchen he’ll have his chest pressed up against your back and he’s just so much bigger than you and it’s so comforting to him BUT it does make cooking rather hard (you refrain from asking him to let go, even if it is a bit inconvenient). i feel like jun wouldn’t want to talk too much about exactly what’s bothering him but he knows you know somethings up and you aren’t going to press him if he doesn’t want to talk about it—you know if it’s really important he’d tell you. but overall i think you get the point: VERY clingy and constantly wanting your attention (and obviously you indulge).

soonyoung

super grumpy. like frowning and adding a little stomp to his feet kinda grumpy. you can feel the cloudy atmosphere around him as soon as he steps through the door, walking up to him and placing your hands on his shoulders to ask what’s wrong. “bad day,” he’d mumble with his grimace deepening as he sits down at one of the chairs at your dinner table with a sigh. you gently stand behind him, massaging his shoulders as he starts talking about his day, his voice getting increasingly heated and tempered as he goes on. you hum in response, adding small, short-phrased replies to some of the stuff he says. he finishes his rant by leaning back in the chair, head resting on your stomach as you move from his shoulders to stroke his hair. his eyebrows will still be furrowed when he closes his eyes, but you feel his body relax and lean into your touch. you can tell he’s thinking, so you settle on just telling him you love him. that seems to set something off though, and hoshi would soon be grabbing your wrist and pulling you to stand in front of him with your body faced away. he’d push you down so you’re bent over the dinner table, standing up quickly so he could grind against you. “love you so much,” he’d grunt out as he pulls your shorts and panties down in one go as you brace yourself against the cool wood of the table, excitement pooling in your stomach. “you’re always so good to me baby,” he’ll murmur before getting to work.

wonwoo

honestly he’s great at hiding his emotions, at least when it comes to his expressions, but he should’ve known that you’re way too good at picking up on how he’s actually feeling. you realize that it’s one of Those Days within the first two minutes of your conversation with him once he comes home. urging him to talk to you about it, he eventually spills out the contents of his day to you while he leans against the counter when you’re cooking dinner. you can tell it’s a little hard for him, by the way he deeply furrows his eyebrows after talking about a particularly annoying event, but you don’t push him and let him take things at the pace he wants. once he’s done and you offer your share to the conversation, you tell him to get washed up since you’re almost done with dinner. he doesn’t seem too fond of that idea, pouting and frowning and all—it’s honestly so cute that you can’t help but happily agree when he asks, “shower with me?” you agree but only under the condition that you eat first. after you’ve taken your last bite of the meal, wonwoo is quick to grab your wrist, using his other hand to muffle any complaints you have about how the dishes still have to be made. the reason for his rush doesn’t really click for you until you’re both stripping in the bathroom and notice he’s already half hard. you roll your eyes playfully, but wonwoo doesn’t let it slide. you barely make it into the shower before he’s got your waist in a tight grip, fingers digging into your skin, as he presses you against the glass. basically blowing off steam by taking an extra steamy shower hehe.

jihoon

i’d imagine he’s kind of like hoshi in the sense that he’s visibly very grumpy. it’s less sad and a little bit more mad and i feel like he would value his own space a little. you know what he’s like when he’s in this kind of mood so you try not to pry too much—you trust woozi to talk to you if he needed to—but eventually you think it’s time for you to say something when you’re both quietly eating dinner together. “you okay?” you’d ask softly, reaching your hand over so you can interlock your fingers with his. he’d sigh sadly, and it’s almost as if he knew you were going to ask him at some point. it takes him a second to properly react, finally responding by tightening his hand’s hold on yours, murmuring something about how work was hard. i feel like in general, he’d be very reserved about the entire situation, but after confessing the reasons behind his frustrations to you, he mood would go from angry to more subdued and more sad. not that it was a great improvement, but it’s much easier dealing with a sad woozi than a mad one, so you spend the rest of the night by his side and even bring out his favorite dessert so that you can bring up his mood. 

seokmin

visibly upset when he gets home. like the other boys might be pouty or angry or what not but dk is upset. like i don't know how to emphasize that any more. wants to be clingy just talk to you but also has had such a hard day that he finds himself exhausted. you'd encourage him to sit down on the couch while you make dinner.  once you finish, you let him talk about your day as you two eat, holding his hand throughout the entire process. your heart nearly breaks when you see his eyes get glossy at some parts but you don't say anything until he's done. once he's finally finished, he'd try to apologize for taking so much time or what not but you need to quickly shush him down and reassure him that he is not a burden and that he should not apologize for anything. you'd give him lots of "i love yous" and he'd just soak them all up and go from sad to more of a playful poutiness and agadsjh so cute 

mingyu

pouty. SO SO SO pouty. he’d come home and the first thing he’d do is complain about his day to you while you sit on the couch, mingyu between your legs, his head on your chest. and he knows you love him sososo much and that you’re such a sucker for him so he’ll give you puppy eyes and say something like, “since i’m having such a bad day, can we get takeout?" and when he looks at you like that you just can't say no. you'd order from your favorite pace, mingyu still resting between his legs as you play with his hair. massaging his scalp, he'll fall deeper into your hold and after a particular, soft tug at his hair he'll let out a quiet groan that sparks an idea in your mind. gently pushing him off of you, you won't hear the end of mingyu's whines and protests as he sits upright to try and pull you back toward him. "baby hold on," you'd murmur, setting down on your knees in front of the couch, in between his legs—that's when it clicks for him. his pout would transform into a smirk as he leaned back, lifting his hips and pulling down his pants for you. definitely face fucks you. like i think in general he's pretty gentle but he knows you're doing this so that he can let off some stress and that's exactly what he's gonna use you for.

minghao

like i said earlier, he's like joshua—THRIVES on communication. you don't even have to ask him to tell you what's wrong because it's pretty much the first thing he tells you when he gets home. i don't think he'd tell you everything though—not because he doesn't trust you or your help—i just feel minghao takes issues like these as something for personal growth. that doesn't mean he's not sulky and isn't going to indulge in your comfort though. he would go about the evening like you two usually do, but stay by your side a little extra, like sitting next to you at the dinner table as opposed to across from each other like you normally do. usually in the night, you would both read separate books in the bed, but tonight he pulls you close so your head rests on his shoulders as he puts on some show for you to watch together. you definitely maybe give him a blowjob while you're at it, both of you finding solace in the way his fingers tangle in your hair as he pushes you down a littler more than usual, the pent of frustration slowly withering away. aside from that, it's the little things: how his fingers are interlaced with yours when they're usually be buried between the pages of a book, and how cuddling, which is usually a morning time activity, is the only thing he's doing before you two sleep.

seungkwan

i just know he the SULKIEST of them all. he would bug you and want all your attention and all your sympathy and all your kisses and your lips just all over him and all over his di—you get it. seungkwan adores you, and even when his mood is sour, he would want to be all up in your space. that doesn't mean he won't be petty about it—his heart would already be so tender from the events of the day that he would need you to be extra careful with your words—you're basically tip toeing around legos at this one point—one wrong move and it's pretty much a disaster. luckily for you, you know just how to handle seungkwan. you'd bring out his favorite dessert after dinner and while both of your lips are extra sweet you'd make out in the kitchen. it would be desperate and sloppy, your arms wrapped around his neck as his hands would run up and down your body. it'd only be a matter of time before you're sinking down to your knees unbuttoning his jeans. here's to say you definitely made him cum more than once.

vernon

honestly i feel with vernon it can go one way or the other: 1) he's just very pouty and honestly, tries to be intentionally difficult for the sake of being stubborn OR 2) he's just super clingy like jun. either way he's going to be bothering you somehow but of course you don't mind—how could you? whatever's the case, you'd eventually have to sit him down and make him talk about his day before you two begin to cuddle on the bed. now i feel like vernon just loves oral in general but for some reason he'd feel bad for asking for head (even though you've told him multiple times you enjoy it too), so he settles on like making not so subtle innuendos so you can try to get the hint; stuff like "hmm you make me feel better," when he's holding you or just toying with the hem of your shirt ever so slightly. you're slightly oblivious though, finally getting the hint when he's spooning you and you feel him hard behind you LOL. it all makes sense now, you'd think to yourself, before finally pushing yourself off the bed and giving the man what he wants lmfaoo

dino

i feel like if he was having a bad day, he’d feel more tense than anything. like not really sad or angry or frustrated, it’d just feel like there’s a weight on his shoulders that he can’t seem to get rid of, and he tells you this right when he gets home. he'd be very vocal about his emotions which you both love since communication is key! after he's done talking about everything he'd still be really exhausted, excusing himself to take a shower while you prepare dinner. everything after that goes pretty normal except you can still tell that chan's feeling a little...down :( which means that you need to think of ways to cheer him up because if there's anything you hate it's seeing chan not be his bright and passionate usual self. after dinner, you suggest you two watch a movie together on the couch, and while you can tell he's a little tired, he agrees nonetheless, eager to curl up by your side. like most of your movie nights go, you two don't even make it 30 minutes in before you're sitting on his lap, mouths connected in a hot, sloppy mess. he's about to turn you over so he's on top before you pull away, pushing down hard on his shoulders so he falls back into the couch. "this is about you," you tell him, leaning back in to kiss him while you both shuffle out of your pants and shorts. basically you ride him and chan definitely spanks you at least once. or twice. or thr—okay you get the point.

#seungcheol x reader #jeonghan x reader #joshua x reader #hong jisoo xreader #jun x reader #junhui x reader #hoshi x reader #soonyoung x reader #wonwoo x reader #jihoon x reader #woozi x reader #dk x reader #dokyeom x reader #seokmin x reader #mingyu x reader #minghao x reader #the8 x reader #seungkwan x reader #vernon x reader #dino x reader #lee can x reader #✰ drabbles

[toruro]

I'm the anon who sent the nipple peircing ask!! Could you do something with Joshua and reaction to partner having the peircing too?? Im a Shua bias lmao

((I will also add for anyone who sees this, if getting your nipples peirced has ever crossed your mind,,,,, fuckin do it. It's so worth it))

joshua + partner w/ a nipple piercing

sorry i didn’t put joshua in the original ver :c okay honestly i feel like joshua is a wild card when it comes to this. it’s not expected but…he is so into it. joshua is such a sweet, gentle, polite, well-mannered boyfriend, and you’d both take some time to get intimate in your relationship. you’d be a little nervous—you got your nipples pierced a while back and you’re aware that it doesn’t quite…”match with your personality” and you aren’t sure how joshua would react when he finds out.

your first time together, you’d be on his lap on his apartment making out lazily before he sneaks a hand up your shirt. pulling away from his lips as he pulls a shirt over your head. at this point, your stomach would be tumbling with the possible reactions when he pulls off your bra. you’d place your hands on his knees behind you, leaning back as he toys with your bra clasp before it’s falling off and exposing your tits.

let me tell you the way his eyes would literally turn into hearts in front of you—holy fuck, he’d be so enamored by you. joshua wouldn’t even say anything as he brings a finger up and flicks the metal bar that runs through your right nipple. you’d whimper at the sensation alone, and he’d literally look up and you and grin.

joshua would fucking love it.

“baby, you’ve had this this whole time?” he would murmur. “so pretty…can’t believe you hid this from me.” would run his tongue over your nipples, grasp at your tits, literally just obsess over then in general. he would love having you ride him so he can bury his head between your tits, basking in the feeling of the cool metal bars hitting against his cheeks.

even when you aren’t fucking, i feel like joshua would love just staring at the piercings. especially in the shower, he would make sure to pour over extra soap in you and just see the bubbles crowding around your nipples and he’d feel his resolve crumbling and aaaahhh. in general, i feel that joshua would love your nipple piercings waaaay more than you would expect.

#joshua x you #joshua x reader #hong jisoo xreader #hong jisoo x reader #hong jisoo #joshua #svt #svt smut #joshua smut #seventeen #seventeen smut #svt reactions #svt imagines #svt x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #answered #✰ anon #💌 drabbles