#impressed at how popular it is tbh | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

7s3ven · 11 months ago

Text

ONE CUP OF COFFEE. theodore nott

( master list )

IN WHICH… Theodore Nott can’t stand the idea of actually falling in love but he finds himself questioning his choices after a series of rather comforting conversation with a Hufflepuff.

“Do you hate me so much that you can’t stand having one coffee with me?”

Warnings: Smoking, mentioning of throwing up, mentioning of weed, swearing here and there, mentioning of hooking (pretty tame for a Theodore Nott fic tbh)

—

“One coffee. Black. No milk or sugar. Make it hotter than usual.” Theodore Nott wasted no time in repeating his order to the worker behind the counter. A new coffee shop had opened inside of Hogsmeade and in the Slytherin’s opinion, their drinks were better than any muggle one.

He tossed a few golden coins onto the table before walking away and taking a seat in a deserted corner. He liked to be away from people because despite being part of a popular Slytherin group and partying often, he wasn’t a social person.

The quiet lulling of muggle songs played around in the cafe, bouncing off the walls. Theodore pulled his turtle neck up higher, covering his bare skin from the cold air. It nipped at his slim fingers and he wished he had taken a pair of Draco’s Dior gloves now.

The rusted bell attached to the door dully rang as someone else entered. The cafe wasn’t too crowded. There were a few other students scattered here and there but not many people were willing to freeze just to grab a coffee.

Melted snow dripped off Theodore’s boots as his observant eyes followed the actions of the newcomer. He couldn’t tell what house she was in because she was wearing all white, but she definitely wasn’t a Slytherin. The girls clad in green and silver had a certain aura; an unfriendly, poisonous, and addictive one.

This girl radiated off sunshine and daffodils and basking in the warmth of a crackling fire. Theodore guessed she was in Hufflepuff because she had a certain charm to her bright smile.

“One cinnamon chai latte.” She ordered, kindly handing the cashier a few coins. She was practically the opposite of Theodore.

“Name?” The cashier asked, much comfortable in her presence as opposed to the Slytherin who sat a few feet away.

“Y/N.”

Her name jogged Theodore’s memory. She was the girl Lorenzo had been paired with in herbology. It was quite a long and dragged out assignment so whenever Lorenzo wasn’t hanging out with his friends, he was with her.

Theodore subconsciously sat up straighter and leaned forward to get a better look at Y/N. Lorenzo described her as a pretty and bright girl with a warm perspective on life. Instead of saying “what’s the worst that could happen?” She always said “what’s the best that could happen?”

Theodore was somewhat impressed by how positive a person could be.

He didn’t notice he had been staring until Y/N turned her head, innocent E/C eyes burning holes into his. Theodore almost jumped. He quickly adverted his gaze, clenching his jaw.

Out of the corner of his vision, he could see Y/N sit at the table beside him. She sat with her legs oddly crossed and her body was turned so she could look at him.

“Theodore Nott, right? Enzo’s friend?” Her voice was gentle, like a meadow full of daisies and glittering ponds of water.

Theodore thickly swallowed before he nodded. “Yeah. Lo’s talked about you. You were his partner for potions.” The brunette had never heard anybody call Lorenzo by Y/N’s nickname, but maybe that was because he didn’t allow anybody to call him that. Unless it was Y/N, of course.

The poor boy was smitten with her during fifth year but he shyly backed off when he realised he had too much competition. To this day, Draco was still trying to convince him to man up.

“He talked about me?”

“Only once or twice.” Theodore lied through his teeth. He may be a tease, but he refused to out his friend.

“The assignment we did was so annoying. I’m glad I had him as my partner. If it was anybody else, I would’ve gone mad.” Y/N signed and a small laugh slipped past her pink-tinted lips.

“You practically saved his herbology grades. Lo is smart but his plant knowledge is in the negatives.” Theodore huffed in amusement, his mouth curving into a sly smirk.

“He’s good with everything else, though.” Y/N uttered. Out of the whole Slytherin group, Lorenzo, Draco, and Pansy had the highest grades. Blaise couldn’t care less; he still scored pretty high but grades weren’t his whole life. And Matteo and Theodore, the players they were, didn’t even bother studying for exams.

“Black coffee.” The barista suddenly called out, making Theodore realise he had never given the worker his name.

“That must be your’s.” Y/N said, nodding over at the steaming drink. She smiled, which almost set Theodore’s heart alight. It was already drowning in gasoline and her damn grin may as well be the flaming match. “Theo?” She waved a hand in front of his face as he spaced out.

“Huh?” Finally, his blank eyes shifted to stare at her.

“Your coffee.” Y/N reminded him.

“Oh. Right. I’ll see you later.” Theodore was quick to stand up and grab his drink, the paper cup burning the palm of his hand.

“See you later, Theo!” Y/N called out, not seeming to notice his uneasy mood.

Theodore sped walked out of the coffee shop, holding a hand to his chest. His stomach sank as dread overwhelmed him.

Him and Matteo were like two peas on a pod. They shared the same habits too, like drinking their sorrows away and smoking until their lungs burned. And let’s not forget their infamous reputations as playboys. Theodore Nott didn’t do relationships so he refused to let a soft Hufflepuff change his mind.

Despite shoving down whatever warm feeling he felt when he was next to Y/N, Theodore couldn’t help but crane his head in search for a certain flash of H/C hair.

“Black coffee. Extra hot.” He muttered absentmindedly to the same cashier who had served him a week before.

“Name?” She asked, bored eyes gazing up at him.

“Theo.” He quickly replied, turning his head again when he thought he saw Y/N. He felt disappointed when it wasn’t her. The worker seemed to notice.

“Are you looking for that Hufflepuff you were talking to last time?” She questioned, arching a thin brown eyebrow. Theodore glanced down at her name tag that read Eulia.

“No.” He quickly denied her inquiry, wrapping his long Slytherin scarf tighter around his bare neck.

“She comes in every week around this time. She’ll be here soon.” Eulia said, glancing over Theodore’s shoulder to take in the growing line. She cleared her throat, reminding Theodore of where he was.

As usual, he threw some coins onto the countertop and walked away to the same table he sat at before. His head perked up when he heard the sound of familiar laughter.

Y/N walked in, waving good-bye to her Ravenclaw friend. “The usual, Y/N?” Eulia asked, already typing her order into the monitor.

Y/N practically bounced over to Theodore, taking a seat in front of him. “Hey, long time no see. I thought I’d see you at school but I guess not.”

“I was busy.” Theodore lied. In truth, he had been hauled up in his dorm and listening to Draco rant about Pansy.

“Doing what?” Y/N innocently tilted her head to the side, genuinely curious.

Theodore, as blunt and brainless as ever, blurted out the first thing he could think of. “Weed, drugs, and smoking.” He wanted to bash his head into the table. What kind of response was that?

Yes, he used to do all those things but he had toned it down. The only addiction he had was smoking now.

“I don’t know why I said that. It was the first thing that popped up in the mind.” He admitted, scratching the back of his head.

“I’m not judging you, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Y/N laughed, “By the way, your cigarettes are about to fall.” She pointed to the packet that was lazily shoved into Theodore’s pocket. He quickly caught it.

“I don’t do weed or drugs anymore.” He uttered, “Just so you know.”

From the coffee machines, Eulia rolled her eyes. “Coffee for Theo. Cinnamon chai latte for Y/N.” She called out, placing the drinks down.

Theodore quickly stood up. “I’ll get them.” He offered, not waiting for a response.

“Smooth.” Eulia said as he grabbed the drinks.

“Cut me some slack. I’m used to hooking up with toxic girls, not chatting over coffee with a sweet Hufflepuff.” Theodore lightly scoffed.

“So, Theo, what do you want to do when you graduate?” Y/N asked as soon as he sat back down again.

He shrugged. “I don’t know.” In all his years of Hogwarts, he had never thought about it. “What about you?”

“I want to open a bakery.” Y/N said like she had been waiting the question to come up.

Theodore raised his eyebrows. “You like baking?”

“Yup! I’ll bake you something next week. Do you like chocolate?”

“Who doesn’t?” Theodore only knew one person who didn’t like chocolate, and that was Pansy. But to be fair, she had gotten food poisoning from spiked chocolate in third year.

It was safe to say that she spent most of that day hunched over the toilet while Matteo held back her hair and Lorenzo gently got her to drink water, which she threw up too but it’s the thought that counts.

“Great! I have to go now. I’m meeting up with another friend. See you at school, Theo!” Y/N effortlessly chugged her scorching hot drink. She slammed the cup against the table, grinning.

“What the…” Theodore was still trying to process what had just happened as he watched Y/N run out of the cafe and into the arms of her friend

The next week, Y/N arrived earlier than Theodore. He had been held up by Blaise, who was curious as to why he was visiting the same coffee shop three times in a row.

Theodore entered the store after managing to shake Blaise off. He shoved his hands into his pockets, shivering despite the atmosphere being warm.

Eulia, who seemed to be on duty every day, had already made his drink and placed it in front of Y/N. She was too busy doodling on his cup with a permanent marker to notice his sudden appearance.

“Cute outfit.” He said as he sat down, the legs of his chair scraping against the tilted floor. Y/N’s face visibly lit up at his small compliment. Theodore observed her pink sweater with little bows sewn on it and her short white skirt with fleece leggings lining her legs.

“As promised, your cookie.” Y/N slid the box over to Theodore, smiling. “I would recommend heating it up. A warm cookie is better than a cold and hard one.”

“Do you bake often?” Theodore asked, taking the box and letting it rest on his lap.

“I try to bake as much as I can. I like helping the house elves too.” Y/N began to fondly talk about her love for baking and as much as Theodore tried to focus on her words, his gaze wandered to a suspicious group huddled in the opposite corner.

Once Theodore looked past their dark sunglasses and large coats, he recognised them as his friends. He saw Draco shove past Pansy and he surely pointed at Y/N then at Theodore before slapped his hands together.

Theodore stared at him, puzzled. And it showed as he furrowed his eyebrows and frowned. Y/N didn’t seem to notice his wavering attention, much to his relief.

“Do you want to bake together sometime, Theo?” Y/N asked, bringing him back to their conversation. He felt a little guilty because he hadn’t heard another word of what she had said.

“Sure. Though, I don’t think I’d be much help. Matt and I tried making edibles once and we messed that shit up.”

From behind Draco, Matteo glared at Theodore. It was your fault, he mouthed. He wasn’t lying, Theodore had gotten just about every ingredient in the recipe wrong.

“Edibles?” Y/N tilted her head to the side.

“Weed brownies.” Theodore elaborated, “But that was last year. I don’t do that anymore, remember? I only party and smoke.”

“I know. You told me.” Her eyes crinkled when she smiled. Y/N’s gaze flickered to his packed of cigarettes that always looked like it was about to fall out.

“Would you like to come to a party with me?” Theodore asked, leaning forward. There was one in the Slytherin common room next week. Normally, people from other houses weren’t invited but if you had the right connections, you’d be let in.

“Parties aren’t my thing. I… don’t like the vibe. You know?”

“That’s fine. You ever tried smoking?”

“No. Cedric offered to teach me but I declined.” Y/N frowned at the lost opportunity.

“I’ll teach you.” Theodore said a little too quickly. He cleared his throat. “I mean, you keeping me company wouldn’t be so bad.” He grabbed his packet, sliding it across the table. “These are my good ones. Keep ‘em and whenever you’re having a bad day or just wanna have a smoke, find me. I’ll light one for you.”

From across the room, Matteo lightly gasped. Theodore never ever shared his good cigarettes with anyone, not even him.

“Really?” Y/N picked up the worn-out box, staring at it.

“Yeah. I gotta get going. My friends are probably wondering where I am.” Theodore, once again, lied through his teeth. He knew his friends had questions and he didn’t want to keep them waiting. He stood up, feeling Pansy’s gaze burn a hole through him.

“Enjoy the cookie!” Y/N exclaimed, grinning and waving him off.

Theodore smiled. “I’m sure I will, love.” He walked out of the cafe, his friends following close behind and bombarding him just like he had predicted.

“You clearly have some sort of feelings towards her.” Panay said as she poked the brunette beside him. All throughout breakfast, Panay had been trying to get Theodore to admit his growing affection for Y/N. He denied it every time.

“I don’t.” He said for the third time, leaning down to stuff some bacon into his mouth. As he quickly chewed, his gaze flickered to Y/N.

“You’re looking at her again!” Pansy exclaimed, huffing. “It’s so obvious you like her!”

“Where’s Lo and Draco?” Theodore changed the subject, realising the two boys were missing.

“You can’t change the topic. You like her and you know it.” Unfortunately for Theodore, Pansy was persistent. Maybe a little too much.

“Theo likes who?” Lorenzo tilted his head to the side in curiosity. The whole group, even Blaise who laughed at awkward situations, froze.

Nobody responded for a moment before Blaise put down his fork. “Y/N. He likes Y/N L/N.” Theodore glared at the boy, wondering why on hell he’d even tell Lorenzo the truth.

“… Oh.” Lorenzo didn’t say much as he sat down, glancing over at Y/N. “You’re not going to break her heart, right?”

“I don’t like her. End of conversation.” Theodore groaned, taking a huge gulp from his goblet.

“I don’t believe you.” Lorenzo uttered, pointing his fork at Theodore’s eyes, “Your eyes say it all. You keep looking at her every minute and when you do, your eyes soften.”

Pansy snickered, nudging Theodore. “Told you.”

“If you don’t like her, then you wouldn’t mind if someone else asked her out, would you?” Matteo piped up.

“You aren’t her type.” Theodore immediately replied, scoffing.

“We’re practically the same, Theo. If I’m not her type then you aren’t. She’s pretty and all but I don’t date. That guy, on the other hand, seems like he does.” Matteo pointed over to a Ravenclaw boy approaching Y/N. The whole Slytherin group watched as he nervously asked her something and when she slowly nodded, his face lit up.

Theodore clenched his hands into fists. “Did he just ask her out?” He seethed, clenching his jaw.

“You don’t like her, remember? You shouldn’t care.” As usual, Matteo had that same infuriating smirk on his face. “Anyway, what are we doing for the party tonight?”

Theodore had forgotten all about it. He faintly remembered Y/N saying parties weren’t her thing. Did she like guys who didn’t party? That Ravenclaw boy looked like he didn’t. Is that why she said yes?

“I’m not doing. Not really my thing.” He uttered, shrugging. His friends looked at him in disbelief.

“Not your thing?” Matteo stammered, “Mate, the only thing you do is party! What’s gotten into you?!”

“He’s trying to turn into Y/N’s ideal type.” Pansy snickered, “He knows he isn’t the blueprint and he can’t see her with anyone else so he’s improving himself.”

“Respect, bro. But what about Izzi?” Matteo motioned to the Slytherin girl down a few rows who was Theodore’s favourite hookup.

“I don’t care about her.”

“What about the drinks?”

“I need to cut my alcohol intake.”

“Smoking? You can’t give up smoking! You’re addicted!”

“Y/N has my cigs. When she wants to learn, I’ll teach her.”

“And if she never wants to learn?”

“Then I won’t pester her. Not smoking for a while might do me some good.” Theodore on the brink of giving up smoking for some girl was a huge deal.

Matteo leaned over to Draco, “Is he sick?”

Pansy lightly snorted and she teasingly grinned, “If you mean lovesick, then yeah.”

To be honest, Theodore didn’t even know what he was doing. His head tried to convince him to return to the common room and drink like he usually did, but his heart said no.

That’s how he ended up in the courtyard, enjoying the fresh breeze.

“Theo?” An all too familiar voice called out. He practically spun around, facing Y/N. “I thought you’d be at your party.” She stared at him, confused.

“I’m taking a break from all that.” He said. Y/N silently sat beside him on the stone bench.

“I still have your cigarettes if you want them.” Y/N said, handing the packet over. “I thought about it and I don’t think I want to smoke just yet.”

“Thanks, love.” Theodore took the box, shoving it into his pocket without hesitation. Normally, he’d take one out and light it up but tonight was different.

“So, that Ravenclaw boy.” Theodore drawled. “He asked you out, huh?”

“Hm? Oh, Rowan? Yeah. I only said yes to be nice though because he helped me with some work last year.”

“You’re too kind, love. You need to know your boundaries.”

Y/N’s cheeks heated up at the sound of his endearing nickname. “I can’t say no now. It’ll just be one date then I’ll say it didn’t work out.”

“What if he wants a second date? What will you do?” Theodore moved closer to Y/N so he could feel the warmth radiating off her body. His heart jumped at their close proximity.

“Then I’ll tell him I don’t want one.” Y/N whispered, staring up at Theodore with those gentle eyes he liked so much.

“I liked your cookie, by the way.” Theodore slowly smiled, “It was good.”

“I’ll bake you a few more next time.” Y/N beamed. “I’m trying a new recipe for a brownie so I’ll give you one too!” Theodore smiled as she jumped into another rant about baking. This time, he could actually listen without being pestered by his friends.

Theodore, as usual, walked into the cafe around the same time he usually did. Eulia spotted him and subtly waved. “Has Y/N come in yet?” He asked.

Eulia hesitated before she pointed over at Y/N and Rowan. Theodore visibly deflated. He knew Y/N was only being nice to the Ravenclaw but he still felt a twinge of sadness.

“I’m sorry, Theo. If it makes you feel better, she hasn’t looked like she’s enjoyed the date. She looks much happier talking to you.” Eulia handed him his coffee.

“Right.” He sat down at a nearby table, glancing over at Y/N every so often. The slight pang in his heart reminded him of why he never dated in the first place. He quietly cleared his throat, deciding that whatever butterflies he felt for Y/N had to be drowned.

He stood up and Y/N immediately caught his gaze. She smiled and waved when Rowan wasn’t looking, but Theodore ignored her. Slowly, she lowered her hand.

As Rowan ranted on about how Ravenclaw was the best house, Y/N couldn’t help but think of what she had done to possibly anger Theodore. So much that he ignored her when he usually enjoyed her small smiles and secretive waves. She blocked out Rowan’s voice, frowning. He couldn’t grab her attention like Theodore could.

If only she knew that Theodore was simply trying not to fall in love.

Theodore avoided her for the rest of the week. Whenever she tried to approach him, he’d walk away. Even his friends were puzzled. After another failed attempt of trying to talk to Theodore, Pansy placed a hand on her shoulder.

“We’ll talk to him.” She said.

“I don’t know what I did wrong. He’s been acting so moody all of a sudden.” Y/N sighed and pouted.

“Maybe he’s on his period.” Matteo snickered at his own joke but immediately stopped when nobody else laughed with him. “I mean, Theo hasn’t had a good drink, fuck, or smoke since Monday. And all he did on that day was smoke for five minutes before he got caught.”

“I thought he liked doing all those things. Why’d he stop if it’s just going to make him grumpy?” Y/N murmured, playing with the hem of her blouse. Matteo and Pansy exchanged a glance, knowing they shouldn’t expose Theodore so early.

“He’s just being unreasonable. Don’t worry, we’ll get through to him.” Matteo grinned, his eyes flickered to the box in Y/N’s hands. “More cookies for him?”

She nodded. “Could you give this to him? It might make him feel better.” Matteo lowly hummed, taking the box. He and Pansy walked off after Theodore, muttering to each other about what could possibly be wrong with their friend.

“Theo.” Matteo called out as they entered the Slytherin Chamber. They found him sprawled out on the couch, a burning cigarette in his mouth. “Y/N made you cookies.”

Theodore looked at the box in Matteo’s outstretched arms. “I don’t want ‘em.” He said with a lazy flick of his hands.

“But you said you love her cookies. Jeez, dude, what’s gotten into you?” Matteo scoffed as he grabbed one, shoving it into his mouth. “If a girl made me cookies like these, I’d fall in love.”

“That’s the problem!” Theodore exclaimed loudly. “I’m Theodore Nott, Hogwarts resident fuck boy. I don’t do relationships! But Y/N- Y/N is making me feel things I shouldn’t!” He groaned, pulling at the ends of his hair.

“That’s the problem?” Pansy huffed, taking a seat beside him. “Theo, look at yourself. You haven’t partied in ages, you haven’t drank, you haven’t had sex with any other girl since last month. And you haven’t been smoking up until now! If you’re willing to stop all that shit for Y/N then you obviously like her!”

“What if I’m just concealing it, huh? What if I haven’t changed and if I date Y/N, then I hurt her? I don’t care about any other girl’s feelings but Y/N, fuck. I don’t want to hurt her.”

“Figure your feelings out then decide what you want to do. Easy peasy.” Matteo shrugged, eating another cookie. Theodore clicked his tongue, snatching the box out of his hands.

“It better be easy or I’m going to smoke all your favourite cigs, Matt.”

Matteo was lying. It was not easy to figure out how he felt towards Y/N. Every time he got close to her, he changed his mind last minute and rushed off. It earned him some weird looks but he couldn’t care less.

“Have you even slept lately?” Matteo questioned, slamming a cup of coffee in front of Theodore. He groaned.

“Do I look like I’ve slept?” He muttered, glowing at Matteo.

“Like a baby.” His friend teased, cruelly laughing. Lorenzo glanced over Theodore’s shoulder, clearing his throat.

“Y/N’s coming this way.” He whispered, kicking Theodore.

“What?” He looked around, panicked. Y/N was indeed walking towards him. He grabbed his coffee, splashing it onto Matteo’s wrinkled blouse.

“Yo! What the fuck, dude? That’s hot!” Matteo seethed, resisting the urge to peel his wet shirt off. Some girls hoped he would.

“Sorry, Matt. It was an accident. I’ll help you clean up.” Theodore tried to play his stunt off as an accident while practically dragging Matteo out of the hall.

“Okay, seriously, what was that all about?”

“I needed an excuse to get away.”

“So you spilled hot coffee on me?!”

“I would’ve let you do the same.” Theodore glared at his friend as he sat down and slumped. “She’s everywhere. How is she so social? I can’t get away from her.” He ran a hand through his messy hair.

“Have you been running away from Y/N this whole time?” Matteo questioned, arching an eyebrow. “It’s hilarious to imagine you running away from a girl.”

“Shut up. I’m processing things.” Theodore sighed.

“Just talk to her, Theo.” Matteo lightly nudged his leg, “What else can you lose? You’ve already lost your dignity.”

It had been a few weeks since Theodore had returned to the coffee shop. But finally, he strutted through the doorway with his usual uncaring demeanour.

Someone else entered as Theodore stood in the middle of the room, taking in everything he had missed about this cafe.

“Theo?” Y/N asked, peering over his shoulder. “I haven’t seen you in a while.” He stiffened and slowly turned around. “Are you having a coffee?”

“I’ve already had one, actually. I was just seeing if this place had changed.” Theodore wanted to walk away but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from Y/N’s eyes.

“Well, there’s no harm in having another one, right? It’s on me.” Y/N smiled at Eulia, “One cinnamon chai latte and…” She thought for a moment, glancing over at Theodore, “You’ve already had a coffee so one cream latte as well!”

Y/N paid and brushed past Theodore.

“Kiss her.” Eulia hissed, harshly poking Theodore’s shoulder.

“I’m not kissing her.” Theodore replied back in a hushed whisper.

“Theo, you coming?” Y/N called out, looking over her shoulder.

There was barely anybody in the cafe and even if there was, Eulia would’ve ignored their drinks to make Y/N and Theodore’s.

Theodore reached out to grab his but Y/N was quicker. She grasped both drinks, smiling at him. “We don’t have to be back at school for a while so let’s sit here.”

Theodore nervously followed behind Y/N to their usual table. He sat down, rigid and stiff. He saw his cup and glared at Eulia, who laughed. She had written a message on the cardboard, kiss her, and Theodore was quick to cover it.

He looked out the window, almost jumping with joy when he saw Matteo. “Oh! Matt! I need to talk to him! Sorry, Y/N. I’ll see you later!” He ran out of the cafe, crashing into his friend.

“Matteo! Quick! Do something!” Theodore shook his friend, urging him to create a distraction.

“Is this about Y/N?” He asked.

“She’s in the coffee shop- don’t look!” Theodore shoved his friend.

“And you need me to something stupid?”

Theodore eagerly nodded but was unprepared when Matteo pushed him forward and down a snowy hill. “Theo! Sorry! My hand slipped! I’m coming!” Matteo yelled out in a fake worried voice as Theodore rolled and got a mouthful of snow.

Y/N watched their strange interaction as she sipped on her drink. “… He didn’t call me love like he usually does.”

Y/N hummed to herself as she slipped on a pair of mittens and took out a tray of cookies. She placed the hot metal tray on the counter, the smell of baked goods wafting through the air.

She poured herself a cup of light coffee and sat down, swinging her legs. She lifted her head when she heard the sound of quiet swearing and smelled the scent of cigarettes and cologne.

“Theo?” She asked, tilting her head to the side. It was silent for a moment before the boy sheepishly pushed the kitchen doors open.

“I was looking for a snack for Pansy. She’s not feeling well.” He looked around, staring at everything but Y/N.

“I would offer her a cookie but she doesn’t really like chocolate, does she?” Y/N circled her finger around the rim of her cup, “Would you like some coffee? I made it myself.”

Theodore found himself sitting across from her against his will. He watched as she poured him a cup, softly smiling.

“Thanks.” He stammered, grabbing the white mug and gulping it down.

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Careful! Isn’t it hot?”

Theodore slammed the cup down, ignoring the burning sensation on his tongue. “No.” He wheezed, his vocal cords threatening to give up on him, “I’m fine. Tastes great.”

“You’ve spilled some.” Y/N said. She leaned forward, pointing at his collar. His top two buttons were undone and hot coffee trickled down his skin. “That must hurt. Here, let me help.”

Y/N dabbed a tissue against Theodore’s collar and he flinched as her fingers came in contact with his exposed skin. She noticed, peeking up at him through her lashes.

“Do you hate me so much that you can’t stand having one coffee with me?” She asked, taking a small step back.

“What?” Theodore choked. He didn’t hate her, quite the opposite to be honest.

“You keep running away from me. And you left me in the cafe the other day. And you didn’t wave back. Do you hate me?”

Theodore hated how he could see her E/C eyes glass over. He fiddled with his mug, tapping his nails against the porcelain.

“I… have to go. Pansy needs me.” He stood up, leaving without another word. He was doing what he did best; running away from his problems.

With Theodore out of the picture, Y/N felt lonely. She dug around in her pocket, confused when she fished out a cigarette. “Oh… it must’ve fallen out.” She murmured.

She was on her way to the cafe, but not to meet up with Theodore. The day after he had walked out on her, again, a Gryffindor had approached her and asked her out. She said yes in hopes this date would be better than her date with Rowan.

Spoiler alert, it wasn’t. In fact, she felt like it was worse. Y/N stared at her cup as the boy beside her talked on and on about his love for quidditch.

“What’s your hobby?” He suddenly asked.

“Baking.” Y/N answered absentmindedly.

“Oh, that’s kind of boring. Quidditch is better, don’t you think?”

Y/N resisted the urge to sigh. Theodore never insulted her love for baking.

“Do you do anything else?” The boy questioned.

“I study.”

“Jeez, you really are boring. You wanna come to a party with me? I know a guy who’ll hook us up with some coke.”

“No thanks.” Y/N rested her cheek in the palm of her hand, watching the clock closely so she could dart away as soon as the date was over.

Someone suddenly pulled up a chair in front of Y/N. “Coke is boring.” Theodore uttered, “Baking is better.”

Y/N tried to conceal her smile since she was still upset with him, but when he winked at her, she couldn’t help it.

“What are you doing here, Nott?” The Gryffindor sneered.

“I’m here to thank you for keeping my girl company.” Theodore grinned, showing off his pearly white teeth. “Now, if you’ll excuse us.” He grabbed Y/N by the wrist, tugging her out of the cafe.

“Why do you choose the shittiest guys to go out with?” Theodore asked.

Y/N lightly huffed. “It’s not like I mean to. At least they don’t walk away from me when I’m trying to talk, though.”

“You still upset with me, love?”

“You hurt my feelings, Nott.” Y/N pulled out the lone cigarette, shoving it into Theodore’s hand, before hurrying off.

He quickly placed it between his lips and lit it. “Let me explain, love!” He exclaimed, chasing after her. He breathed out a mouthful of smoke.

“Okay. Then explain.” Y/N folded her arms over her chest.

“What? Here? Now?” When Theodore saw the unamused look on Y/N’s face, he sighed. “Fine, but this is going to sound stupid.” He took another hit from his cigarette, needing all the courage he could get.

He took a deep breath. “I think you’re wonderful person and I didn’t want to risk hurting you so I tried to distance myself but that backfired and I was trying to process my feelings because I’m Theodore Nott. I don’t do relationships. But you made me want to give it a go so I got scared and that made me do stupid shit like spilling coffee on Matt or running away or allowing Matt to push me down a hill.”

Y/N furrowed her brows. “What are you trying to say?”

“I like you, Y/N! I like the way you smile and the way your eyes light up and I like how you look and me and how fond you are of baking! I like how you take the time to make me cookies because it makes me feel special! You treat me so differently from other girls and that’s how I know you aren’t just around for a hook up! I like your perfume and your hair and your outfits and the way you skip when you’re happy and how you read classic Muggle books because you want a cute teen romance!”

“You noticed all of that… about me?”

“How could I not? You have such a charming aura and I can’t stand it because no matter how much I try to deny it, I like you.”

“You really like me?” Y/N knew about Theodore’s reputation and she’d be lying if she didn’t feel the same way. But what if he was just toying with her?

“I do.”

“Okay then. Hug me!” Y/N exclaimed, confident he was joking. Theodore shrugged before embracing her tightly. “Uh… hold my hand!” He intertwined their fingers without hesitation. “Kiss me!” Y/N was sure he wouldn’t do it but when he leaned down and pecked her lips, she froze.

“Are you done? There’s a lot more things I’d do for you, Y/N.”

“Are you sure you like me? Like, really? Because what if we get married and you decide you don’t like me but we already have two kids and a cat together? Who will keep the cat? Or will we have shared custody over it?” Y/N spoke so fast Theodore could hardly understand her.

“What about the children?” He asked, tilting his head to the side.

“What about the cat, Theo?”

“I really do like you, Y/N. Believe it or not. I’m willing to give dating a try… if it makes I can date you.”

“Please don’t break my heart, Theo.”

“I won’t.”

“Can we finally drink coffee together without you running off?” Y/N questioned, which earned her a small chuckle from Theodore.

“I won’t run away this time, love. I promise.”

4K notes · View notes

stitchposts · 1 month ago

Note

OK, so while I sew a lot, I've always thought of embroidery as something I Just Can't Do Properly, because I was bad at it when I tried to learn it, while other crafts I've picked up easily.

And then I realised what had happened.

Mother often offloaded me on her three great aunts when I was a kid and they had the tools, knowledge and supplies for knitting and dressmaking, and soon figured out that teaching me to Make Things was a great way of keeping me quiet.

And they'd all done a lot of embroidery when they were young, beautiful tablecloths and things, BUT they'd stuck to more practical things as soon as they were out of what passed for school then, so they didn't have the stuff for doing embroidery, so when they tried to teach me it was with a crappy kids' kit with a plastic hoop that couldn't hold its own shape never mind the fabric and a blunt needle, so no wonder I sucked at it.

What would be your recommendation for someone getting started?

Hey there! Damn, that's pretty insightful for you to realize and it makes a lot of sense. I'm happy to help you get started!

My usual recommendation from absolute zero is to just buy a kit with everything you need from a reputable vendor. Since you have a crafting history I think you're good to not be overwhelmed by the stuff you need to buy. You'll need:

a pattern

a hoop (plastic are totally fine, just not the kids ones you used)

non stretchy fabric (I like kona quilting cotton for beginners, it's a name they can search for easier, is widely available, and good quality without being expensive)

embroidery floss (dmc, anchor, or cosmo are available worldwide depending on where you are and are high quality)

embroidery needles (larger eyes, sharp tip)

scissors

way to transfer your pattern to your fabric

Transferring a pattern is as simple as using a window as a tracing pad and copying the pattern from the paper printout to your fabric using a washaway or heat erase pen. You can also use chalk. There are fancier ways to transfer, let's keep it simple for now though.

I like patterns that casually integrate a large amount of stitches into a design. The ones that are like, carefully laid out sections of DO A BACKSTITCH 5 TIMES. DO A CHAINSTITCH 5 TIMES. DO 3 FRENCH KNOTS - those don't teach you anything in a way that matters. it's not enough repetition to make the stitches stick in your mind nor is it integrated learning to see how stitches look in situ in order to get a grasp of how to use them for your own art.

To learn to do stitches, I like the Royal School of Needlework stitch bank. Other stitch banks online don't give the historical citations for their stitches and often make shit up just to look more impressive or have options not on any other site. Yeah, of course other sites wouldn't have your made up stitch name.

DMC's free patterns are high quality, tell you what threads to buy, and are aimed at all skill levels. I'm linking the list of the ones I personally think are good for beginners to learn on under a cut here because this is getting long!

Blue Hill - wreath with blue flowers

Etoile Constellation - celestial star/moon/sun tableau. Ignore the call for etoile threads tbh and just use the number codes for the plain colors

Etoile Magic Star - tri-toned shooting star. Ignore the call for etoile threads tbh and just use the number codes for the plain colors

Strawberries - a scattered ditzy design with strawberries, leaves, and flowers

Lemons - a scattered ditzy design with lemons and sprigs of flowers and leaves

Oranges - a scattered ditzy design with whole oranges, orange slices, and sprigs of leaves

Raspberries and Roses - a scattered ditzy design with raspberries, roses, leaves, and flower bits

Toadstool - an amanita mushroom scene. This one's really fucking popular online, you see it a lot.

Jellyfish - uses a variety of stitches to give texture to the titular sealife

Octopus - uses a variety of stitches to give texture to the titular sealife

Seahorse - uses a variety of stitches to give texture to the titular sealife

Shrimp - uses a variety of stitches to give texture to the titular sealife

An Hee Jin, Toucan - cute lil toucan on a branch with leaves and flowers

Flying Snakes - snakes but theyre circus performers. lean into the whimsy. life is short.

Woodland Bear - forest scene with a bear. Lots of french knots for the trees, still a beginner pattern. Get that practice in.

#chatter #embroidery help

219 notes · View notes

enden-k · 1 year ago

Note

asghdgas i can imagine alhaitham reading every possible book and even going to grandmas at bazaar or to nilou at the theater so they would teach them how to braid for the off chance kaveh will one day ask him to braid it so he could blow him away with his skills that he totally didnt plan months in advance

he could prob learn from aether in secret but tbh i love this idea bc im a big fan of haitham and nilou together bc shes such a cute contrast to his vibes (+ my fav female character anw ansbshcb) and making haitham popular w the grandmas is kinda fun and cute sjxbsjbc more than half of the ppl of sumeru who knows him in some way finds him insufferable or arrogant or intimidating but only the grandmas love him saxnjxjhascjb

haitham now possesses all the braiding techniques/styles of 12 grandmas combined, just bc he wants to impress his love and enjoys learning new things

#own art #sketch #eremite au

497 notes · View notes

the1864thregression · 1 year ago

Text

Would the ORV characters go to watch the Barbie movie with you?

Characters : Yoo Joonghyuk, Yoo Sangah, Han Sooyoung, Uriel, Kim Dokja (derogatory)

Warning : contains spoilers for Barbie movie

Yoo Joonghyuk

YES. He'll take along Yoo Mia and Lee Jihye too. The funniest part is he'll also wear a pale pink shirt due to his sister's and lee jihye's insistence. He'll draw gazes EVERYWHERE.

But overall he would like the movie and it's underlying themes. He would also be impressed by how much effort it went into props. Definitely the kind of dude who would listen to you ramble about the movie and would put his own thoughts into your analysis in between.

Would really like the "I'm just Ken" song but will soon grow tired of it because Han Sooyoung kept singing it at every minor problem.

"Why don't you like Ken, Joonghyuk? I thought he would be relatable to you. "

"He brought misogyny to Barbieland. I would never do that."

Yoo Sangah

She would absolutely go with you. I just know she'll rock the barbie-coded outfit

Han Sooyoung

She might also tear up at the Barbie scene at the end, where she sees all the human memories (girl same). Her favorite character would be Barbie. You two will then go to a food court after the movie where you'll spend an hour or so discussing the movie and the layers at which it mirrors the real world.

"Do you think that Barbie was bound to become attracted to the concept of being human the moment she got named after her creator's daughter? I think that —"

She'll say smth like, "Im an Oppenheimer person " to annoy you at first but would go along with you in the end

The type of person who ends up talking too loudly during a movie accidentally, so you'll recieve some disapproving glances.

She'll. Get. Obsessed with the Ken song. She would hum or sometimes outright break into a song after the movie after some minor inconvenience happens.

Hsy : Where's my lemon candy stash??

Yjh : I threw it out. Your brain will rot even more along with that cheap sugar

Hsy : .. Doesn't seem to matter what I do, I'm always number 2, noone knows how hard I tried.. Oh—

Yjh : (tired)

Uriel

She would be the one to ask you out to the movie. Her excitement would rub off on you and y'all will be positively vibrating with anticipation when the movie starts.

Would also get asked out for photos with some people because she looked absolutely "angelic" with her long golden hair and pink outfit.

You know how some people started to ship Allan with Ken after the movie? Uriel accidentally saw a fan art and immediately jumped on board with the ship.

"All of Ken's clothes fit him!— is such a boyfriend statement tbh, don't you agree (y/n)? "

"... Actually, you're not wrong about that"

Kim Dokja

He wouldn't at first get the hype. He'll just assume it's one of those pop movies that are being popular with their mass marketing and aesthetic.

He was pleasantly surprised.

Would LOVE the underlying satirical themes and the songs. He'll watch the end credits too with you.

Is the type to sometimes look at their partner during the movie and observe their reactions to a particular scene.

Would click instantly with Alan for some reason. (You're not even surprised)

"I like Alan. He's just...there yknow. I hope he leaves Barbieland someday"

#orv #kim dokja #omniscient readers viewpoint #kdj #barbie spoilers #yoo joonghyuk #han sooyoung #kdj/reader #kim dokja x reader #yoo joonghyuk x reader #han sooyoung/reader #yoo sangah/reader #uriel/reader #omniscient reader's viewpoint x reader

311 notes · View notes

hongjoongspoetry · 5 months ago

Text

Cold Hands, Warm Heart

Part 3 – You Know You're On My Mind

⛸️ Summary: Would you rather A) represent Seoul at the Spring Championship, B) find the answer as to why Mingi was ignoring you or C) stay in your shared flat for the winter holidays? How smart of you to go with option D), none of the above.

⛸️ Genres/Tropes: College AU, non-idol AU, rivals to lovers but it's more like one-sided resentment, hockey AU, figure skating AU, angst!!!

⛸️ Warnings/Tags: Female reader, no use of (Y/N), explicit language, brief alcohol consumption, petnames (princess, beans), a lot of tears and crying, probably incorrect use of hockey terms, fist fight, blood, verbal fight, Mingi is really mean but also aware he's being a douche, Dasom is a good friend, more side characters!!!

⛸️ Wordcount: 16.6K

⛸️ Author's note: I freaking love angst 😈 Hence why I've looked forward to the third part of Cold Hands, Warm Hearts! A warning, I have absolutely ZERO knowledge about hockey so the things you'll read concerning the hockey game may or may not be wrong idk. I've tried watching a lot of hockey games on YouTube, but they move so fucking fast I can barely wrap my head around what's happening lmaooo.

I also wanted to write my own comments for the chapter (something I should have done since the first part tbh), but I've been home with a fever for some days now and I honestly can barely sit up, let alone write extra stuff so I'm sadly skipping out on that. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy this part and don't be shy to tell me your thoughts 🩷

This is all fiction and not meant to represent the idols involved in any way or form. This work is NSFW and not appropriate for minors as it contains explicit scenes as well as adult language. Minors and ageless blogs refrain from reading this work!

AO3 Masterpost Moodboard Click on me!

December 9th, 2024.

The day was marked in Mingi’s little red calendar he kept away in his backpack — not that he needed the reminder, the day was practically burned into his mind — and the fanciest suit he owned was ironed three nights prior with the help of his best friend and roommate, Jeong Yunho. One would think it was an important day — as to explain why he woke up at a presentable hour with enough time to spare for a few errands and a brunch with his roommate — an exam determining his final grade or something to do with his hockey, but no it was just the day of your competition.

Currently sitting in a sandwich shop, thumbs twirling and eyes set on the flower shop across the street, Mingi contemplated whether bringing a bouquet — maybe roses or those tulips, they were quite popular nowadays — would be too much or not at all. The two parts of his brain clashed and before he could make a decision Yunho came back with their orders, a teriyaki chicken sandwich for Mingi while he ordered something nasty looking with a really fancy and long name that Mingi couldn’t bother remembering.

“There you go.” Yunho settled in the seat across Mingi and dove right into his food, letting out a moan of approval. “Best sandwich in town, no kidding.”

“Do girls like flowers?”

Caught mid bite, cheeks coated with crumbs and mayonnaise, Yunho looked up at Mingi who already had his eyes set on him with a seriousness that rarely outshone his happy and goofy exterior.

“Uhm, I suppose. I mean the girls I’ve given flowers to liked the gesture. Why? You looking to impress someone, Mings?” A teasing smile quirked at the edge of his lips. “Is it a quick fuck?”

“Dude?!” Mingi hissed and quickly threw a glance around the room making sure no one overheard their convo and labeled them as creeps.

“Oh, come on, we’ve talked about worse things than some sex deets.”

“It was a simple question, Yunho-ya. Do flowers equal happy girls? Yes or no?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, cool.”

Sensing this wasn’t a topic Mingi was all too keen to talk about, Yunho gave him some space and took another bite of his sandwich. Then he remembered their conversation three days ago and how Mingi begged him to help him iron his suit and teach him how to properly handle a tie, and if that wasn’t enough of a reason then he could always use the we’ve-been-friends-since-diapers card and pry whatever information he wanted out of him.

“Is this about that figure skating girl?”

“Absolutely not… Do you think she’d like roses or tulips?”

Mouth full of bacon, tomato, lettuce and bread, Yunho mumbled out a barely audible answer. “Roses. Definitely roses.”

“I’m just saying if Hyunjin brings you roses I’ll jump in front of the ice resurfacer!”

Keeho laid flat on your bed, legs dangling in the air and chin propped on both palms as his eyes burned holes on your back. While rummaging through your closet you threw a random shirt over your shoulder, purposely aiming it at him and you knew it was a success as he let out a surprised ‘ack’.

“That’s what you get for being noisy,” Dasom chirped and rolled over him, her feet hitting your pillow and arms reaching the end of your bed.

“You guys promised to help me pack! I’m so going to be late.”

An empty duffel bag sat on your bed beside the entanglement of limbs that were your friends. Despite waking up a whole twelve hours before your planned departure, you were running late or would be if you didn’t leave in the next fifteen minutes.

“Fine, but I’m just helping because I know you’ll make it big one day and I can use it to be a multimillionaire influencer. Yoon Keeho, best friend of the South Korean Olympic figure skater. It has a nice ring to it, no?”

Another shirt hit him in the face, this one coming straight out of the dirtied piles of clothes in the corner.

“No more throwing shirts!”

“Up we go, Kyo.”

Dasom repositioned to sit criss-crossed in front of your bag and began neatly placing necessary things inside; towel, spare change of clothes, bobby pins, hairspray, your skates.

“Where’s your suit?” She asked while zipping the bag.

“My coach still has it. Something about seeing it before the comp would bring bad luck or whatever. Like it’s a competition not a wedding and Keeho, get out I need to change.”

“I bet a round of lamb skewers Hyunjin is proposing after the comp– I’m leaving, I’m leaving, put that down!”

As the door closed you quickly stripped and threw on a sweatsuit bearing the logo of Tiny University printed on the front and back. Knowing you were practically working on autopilot while your nerves skyrocketed, Dasom didn’t want to step out of bounds and send you into a potential spiral of panic and stress but she was also very curious, and her greed won over her morals. With a soft call of your name she asked the million dollar question.

“Did you only invite Hyunjin?”

You froze with your hands in your hair, a bobby pin between your fingers and an extra in your mouth as your gaze fell on her. Flashing you a derpy yet reassuring smile that warmed you up like the sun on a summer afternoon filled with sugary strawberries and pink lemonade.

“No… Not just Hyunjin, I actually invited Mingi too, but I… don’t know why.”

You plopped down beside her and played with your fingers. It all felt so silly and you didn’t even have the time to think about him or Hyunjin or anything boy related overall. Not that it was a bad thing, in fact it was great, but that meant your mind was completely occupied of nailing your choreo, imaging everything that could go wrong and to not let anything go fucking wrong.

“Maybe it just felt right,” she whispered, as if the words were made of steel and you were of twigs that would break at the slightest contact.

Sighing, you nodded and fell back on your bed with Dasom in tow. There wasn’t much left to say. You couldn’t remember what drunk-you thought when inviting Mingi nor did you want to know. All you knew was that your heart did that little leap thing before violently kicking at your rib cage when he said he’d be there and that was concerning but not more so than your competition taking place in a few hours.

If Mingi showed up, great.

If he didn’t then that was great too, is what you forced yourself into believing.

Mingi stood before a body-length mirror and kept running his hand through his neatly made hair. Yunho placed a palm over Mingi’s shoulder and the shifting motion immediately subdued only to proceed as the hand withdrew.

“Stop moving around dude, you’re making me nervous!”

Taking a step back, Yunho quietly assessed Mingi, searching for creases in his black suit or stray hairs standing up funny. There were no faults, his tall friend — that was still slightly shorter than himself — looked perfect appearance wise. It was the slight twitch of his finger and sweat collecting at the nape of his neck that gave him away.

“Why are you so nervous, Mingi-ya? It’s just a figure skating competition, nothing more nothing less.”

Taking a hold of the perfectly wrapped bouquet of heart-colored roses he paid a good penny for, Mingi pouted and shrugged his shoulders as if a toddler being put on the spot for doing something bad.

“I don’t know.”

“You want me to come with?”

Yunho, dressed in an old tattered shirt and bright red basketball shorts with his naturally dark hair growing at the roots and taking on the look of pudding, was ready to drop everything and jump in his brand new suit planned for their graduation if that’s what Mingi needed.

“No, no. I’ll be fine, it’s just… Don’t you think it’s too much? Flowers, a suit? It’s a figure skating competition not a wedding.”

“Does it matter? Personally, if it were me, I’d rather see the girl I invited put in the effort even if it means wearing nice clothes over something raggedy. This shows you care.”

“I guess…”

Mingi jumped as Yunho reassuringly landed his hands on his shoulders, giving him an encouraging squeeze and smiling so his cheeks puffed up. “Come on, let’s get that tie fixed and then I’ll give you a lift.”

“Ah, the privileges of not having a driver’s license.”

“You mean the privileges of being a passenger princess?”

“Yah, Yunho-ya!” Came the whine as Mingi followed his friend like a kicked puppy on a rainy Monday morning.

The arena was packed and while it wasn’t an unusual sight for Mingi — always being a witness of how the bleachers slowly filled up during his warm ups — it was weird seeing it from an outside perspective. Everything seemed so much smaller and compact compared to when he was on the ice squinting past the blinding headlights to barely even catch a glimpse of the audience. Other than practice and hockey game, Mingi had no reason to visit the arena. There was no other sport that piqued his interest enough to stand in line, pay an overpriced entry fee and freeze his ass off on a plastic chair. He’d usually just enter through the changing rooms and skip all that yet there he was, all glammed up and standing behind a family wearing shirts with the name of some random chick printed in big bold letters.

Thinking about it, Mingi couldn’t actually give less of a fuck about figure skating and months ago he didn’t care who represented Seoul or if they were even capabale to compete with the other cities.

“All my friends are going to be there.”

“Nice friends you have.”

“We are friends,” you said matter-of-factly, your ‘S’ coming out with a lisp. “Alllll my friends are going.”

“You want me to come to your competition princess?”

“You’ll come?!”

You slinked your arm through his and squished it against your chest, cheek pressed to his bicep as you looked at him. One would believe Mingi hung up each and every single star individually in your name for you to look at him that way.

“Yeah,” he whispered, “I’ll be there.”

It was your stupid yet endearing eyes that did it all. The little shining glint that completely vexed him and before he knew it, the promise slipped off his tongue and was spoken into existence. Mingi didn’t get to indulge more in the memory of the beauty that was your face as the lights dimmed and an enthusiastic voice boomed through the speakers, welcoming everyone and announcing the start of the preliminary that would determine the female representative of Seoul at the annual Spring Championship.

Honestly, Mingi didn’t know what to expect. He didn’t know a lot of things; how long this would be, what time your performance would start, was he supposed to find you after or before they announced the winner? It also didn’t help that he was sweating through his dress shirt despite the freezing temperature inside.

Performance after performance passed and he was yet to catch sight of you. Honestly speaking, Mingi was growing impatient. The numbers weren’t anything extraordinary — he had seen you do much better even when ending on your rear — and he wasn’t here to watch some mediocre ladies flip around to classical music. The weight of his phone burned in his suit pocket and he was itching to reach for it. He was three taps away from dialing Yunho and making the taller man pick him up again. Oblivious to the curious and soft eyes peering at the bouquet in his lap, Mingi stared at the ice rink with a far away look on his face and bottom lip caught between his teeth.

“Those are beautiful,” a voice came from his left. It was comforting and full of kindness.

Snapping his head towards the person, Mingi faced a woman looking old enough to be his mom. The compliment pulled at the corners of his lips and soon a full blown boxy smile took over his face as his eyes creased into crescent moons.

“Thank you.”

Mingi contemplated whether to hand her the darned flowers and leave while you still hadn’t caught sight of him, that way his money wouldn’t go to waste and the flowers wouldn’t end up in the bin outside the venue.

“I’m Chaeryeong’s mom.”

“Song Mingi,” he curtly answered with a little bow of his head.

“Are those for your girlfriend?”

As kind as this woman looked she sure was twice the amount noisy.

“No, they are for a… friend. She’s competing today.”

“Oh, when is she up?”

At the sight of his uncertainty, she handed Mingi a pamphlet with several numbers followed by first- and last names of the competitors. Quickly scanning the sheet of paper he landed on your name in last place and with the twenty-ninth performer taking her starting pose right as Mingi looked back up again. The urge to squish his face against the pamphlet was immense.

“She’s last.”

“Oh! That’s Hoseok’s kid. She’s amazing and if it weren’t for my Chaeryeongie I’d root for her.”

Pride swelled in his chest and heat nipped at his cheeks. He tried suppressing the fond smile forcing its way out but failed.

“It’s actually my first time watching her perform but yeah, she’s pretty… p-pretty cool!”

“Really? Well, it’s better late than never.”

Why Mingi was getting flustered was beyond him. Not wanting to think about it and eventually fall down a rabbit hole he always did when thinking of you, he nodded and took the praise with the lady leaving a pat on his shoulder.

“Mmm, you’re smiling! Are you sure she’s just a friend?”

Mingi lowered his chin and avoided the teasing eyes of Chaeryeong’s mom. No way was he talking about girl problems with a random lady at a figure skating competition.

“Would you spare my seat? I just need to go to the restroom.”

“Of course, son.”

With one last bow he ran up the stairs leading to the main hall and straight for the male restroom which — to his delight — was empty. Mingi released a breath of unease and stopped by the sink hoping to wash away the sweat collected on his hands. Looking at his reflection in the oblong mirror, he pursed his lips and splashed cold water on his face before lightly slapping his cheeks.

“It’s easy. We hand her the flowers, tell her she did great and then we leave.”

Mingi couldn’t remember the last time he was this nervous over talking to a girl. Thinking about it, he talked to you all the time. Yes, most of it was hidden behind jokes and teasing remarks, but it still counted as talking.

“Welcoming our last performer of the night…”

The booming voice of the announcer echoed through the whole building and with a quick ‘shit’ falling from his lips, Mingi dried his hands off his expensive pants and ran back into the arena receiving weird stares from other people, but he wasn’t about to miss the start of your performance after waiting for over two hours. In sync with you gliding out on the ice he flew past the double doored entrance and caught himself on the metal railing. Mingi realized there was no need to go back to his previous spot, not when he had a great view of the whole ice rink from where he stood and a great look of you posing in the middle, one arm elegantly thrown over your head and the other following the length of your figure and stopping midthigh.

Stunning, gorgeous, beautiful, angelic, breathtaking, enchanting, marvelous and other adjectives wouldn’t do the justice to describe how truly captivating you looked.

The first thing that caught his attention was your costume. It was a long sleeved dress transitioning from dark to light blue with sparkly beads going down your chest, across your abdomen and arms in a tilted motion as if the foam of multiple waves. Your costume had a tiny skirt which Mingi was sure would swirl prettily when pirouetting and twirling in the air. The upper part of your dress took on the shape of a heart and went down your back in a v-form leaving your collars, shoulders and back completely exposed. Your hair was styled in a sturdy updo matching the elegance of your suit and while Mingi couldn’t see your make-up, he assumed it would reflect the colors of your dress and accentuate your facial features in just the right way.

The starting notes of your chosen song erupted from the speakers and Mingi’s breath got caught in his throat as you glided across the ice, his heart beating in rhythm to your every landed jump. You moved with grace and for once the teasing nickname he reserved just for you had no malice objective behind it. You surrendered yourself to the music and allowed it to guide you, your body resembled the elements of nature and became an entity that was no longer your own. Moving like the ripples of a wind, flowing and rising as though you were water yet curving fiercely as a controlled fire and flourishing like a sunflower yearning for light.

It was beautiful. You were beautiful.

Mingi would rather have spent two hours watching you skate than those other amateurs and he was slightly bitter your number only lasted for four minutes. 240 seconds of no breathing or thinking, just existing to admire you as if you were a painting exhibited in the most famous art museum in the world.

As you were entering the last moments of your performance, the music picked up and you mentally prepared yourself to do the main stunt. There was no turning back now and with confidence pumping in your veins, you inhaled and propelled yourself off the ice. Time slowed down and magically you could somehow hear the amazed gasps of the audience. Your body spun, and spun and spun and you felt the start of gravity doing its work. As if caught in a sense of Déjà Vu, the sharp point of your skates chipped the ice and threw your landing off course, and before you knew it, you landed on the outer side of your thigh. The crowd gasped again, the tone much more horrible than a few seconds ago, and all you wanted to do was continue to lay on the cold surface, but the show was yet to be over. In hopes of saving your score, you recovered with a double-axel which wasn’t nearly as appealing as the one you failed, but at least you landed it.

The performance ended with you posing in the middle — much like you practiced — and waiting for the last piano notes to run out. Despite your big fail the arena erupted in chaos of applause and whistles. Thanking the spectators with three respectful bows — each facing a different side — you skated off the ice with shaky legs and a heart hammering in your ears falling right in the arms of your coach. Mingi didn’t move until you rounded the corner towards the locker rooms and disappeared from his sight.

A short static echoed in the hall as the AUX was rather harshly unplugged from your phone, making you lose your footing and fall on your ass.

The ice beneath was hard and cold, and it numbed your whole left leg except for the burning pain that flared up in your backside. You had to physically hold back tears as you stood back up on shaky legs.

“Majestic as always, princess, but I’ll have to deduct ten points for that eye captivating fall.”

A chorus of laughter and gloves pounding against the plexiglas averted your attention for a split second, and the picture of an audience watching wasn’t much of an imagination as the whole hockey team stood by the entrance of the rink.

Mingi sighed at the memory and stalked back to his seat where the kind family and bouquet of roses waited on him.

“You missed her performance!” Chaeryeong’s mom exclaimed and handed him the flowers.

Mingi smiled shyly, then scratched the back of his neck. “Ah no, I watched from up there.” He turned and pointed at the spot he was standing in not even thirty seconds ago. “It was a better view so yeah…”

Chaeryeong’s mom smiled tenderly with a knowing gleam in her eyes. “What a relief! You got me worried for a minute but I should’ve known you wouldn’t miss it.”

“She was amazing,” Mingi stated and received a smug look from the woman.

“Mmm, I told you so. It’s a shame she fell. Well, we’re going out for a breather but we’ll be back so please save our seats for us.”

You sat in one of the locker rooms, head in your hands and feet tapping on the floor. The performance couldn’t have been more perfect, all for it to go to shit in the end.

All the hours, sweat and energy put into practice was a waste and you didn’t have to wait for the winner to be announced to know whether it was true or not. It was ironic really, despite being in a competitive sport, you hated the concept of competitions. The idea that there could only be one winner always got to your head like a parasite planting eggs of anxiety. Your number was great, but your fall made the other girls as good if not better and that really got you spiraling.

Not to mention neither of your parents could make it, the timing clashing with their working schedules besides driving back and forth from your hometown was too exhausting for one day. Keeho and Dasom weren’t there either, occupied with work or school projects making it unreasonable for you to be angry with them. You also didn’t spot Hyunjin or Mingi in the audience which wasn’t that much of a surprise as you could barely make out the people in the front row, but nonetheless, the lack of support was weighing on you. That’s why in these situations, you were so grateful for Mr. Jung. Not only being your coach, but for stepping up as a ten man army of supporters.

A series of knocks snapped you out of your thoughts followed by Mr. Jung’s voice on the other side.

“You ready, star? They are announcing the winner.”

“Oh, look! I think they are announcing the winner!” Chaeryeong’s mom exclaimed as she sat back down in her seat.

The competing figure skaters went back out on the ice in a neat row, all dressed in various shimmering suits creating a palette of multiple colors. The whole crowd quieted down as the announcer asked for silence and simultaneously caught everyone’s attention. Not Mingi’s though, no his eyes were set on you who — together with the other girls — lined up behind the host.

Hands trembling and breath caught in your throat, you didn’t allow yourself to think of anything. You felt like your head was underwater. It wasn’t scary or suffocating, but not a great feeling either as you couldn’t hear anything clearly thanks to the blood pumping in your ears. Somehow you could make out the distant voice of the man holding the mic, but no words were being registered. Focusing on the white translucent puffs of your short inhales and exhales, you didn’t hear the thick voice announcing the winner. It all happened incredibly fast. One second everyone was at the edge of their seats — you imagined them to be nibbling their nails like in the cartoons — and the next thing you know, the whole arena exploded in cheers. You were so out of it you hadn’t even heard the announcement of the winner. Although it didn’t matter, because a second later the call for a girl who wasn’t you sounded through the speakers as she was welcomed up on the podium.

“Everyone! A round of applause for Seoul's representative of the Spring Championship 2025!”

You felt yourself sink deeper and deeper into the ocean as a booming wave of applause and whistles scattered around, shaking you to the core. Tears sprung to your eyes and you silently thanked the makeup artist for using waterproof cosmetics, the last thing you needed was for everyone to notice your emotional breakdown. The winner skated up to the host and he rewarded her with a bouquet of various flowers and a sash reading ‘Seoul Representative 2025’ in gold letters. You imagined him to be wishing her good luck and words of encouragement before letting her shine in the light of attention and praise.

After bowing to the girls, judges and audience you skated out of the rink and threw yourself in Mr. Jung’s embrace who patiently waited by the open board door. His heart smile didn’t hold quite reach its natural form and came out more pained than what he’d like to and his creased eyes mirrored your own sad expression. The flashes of a dozen cameras quickly annoyed you as well as the sound of the gadgets going off and you tried your best ignoring them, but each flicker was like a stab to your heart.

You were supposed to be the winner. The camera was supposed to be on you, not on that girl.

“It’s alright, starshine. Winning is not always guaranteed,” he whispered and hugged you tighter as you started crying harder, hot tears soaking his shirt.

He stayed with you a while inside the locker room. The silence and your occasional sniffles were the only sources of sound, besides the light chattering noise outside.

“I’m still proud of you.”

The simple sentence brought another fresh set of tears to your eyes and you hung your head in defeat, and slight embarrassment.

“I know you think it’s not fair and that you should be the winner of tonight's event, but that would have been too easy and that’s just not something life is… We’ll break down and start again.”

Mr. Jung had always been exceptional at shifting between being a serious and humorous coach, but the current words spoken came from someone who had experienced failure before. From one loser to another, his little words of wisdom helped you get on your feet even if you felt like you were at the lowest point of your adult life. It would still take days to get over your disappointing performance, but you’d be alright. With a pat to your head, he ushered you to wash the blue feelings off.

While you did that, Mingi found himself once again in the bathroom, wet hands combing through strands of hair in an attempt to look less disheveled and more like he had his shit together (he did in fact not have his shit together). He sniffed the collar of his suit jacket and then his armpits, and as he didn’t detect the smell of sweat, but the aroma of his favorite cologne — that smelled of bergamot and lavender — he straightened the jacket and went out to accomplish his mission or rather plan B.

Instead of congratulating you, like he initially planned to, he’d do something else — and what that was, he had yet to figure out — but from his own experience, he’d known better than to give you praise, especially after losing by a few points.

Skipping two steps down the stairs, he stopped by the see-through doors instead of continuing down the hallway with several changing rooms. Mingi didn’t know what room you were assigned to and even if he did, he wasn’t planning on barging in while you were possibly getting dressed or showering. The vision of a soapy you sent heat rushing to his head, both of them, but were quickly discarded as you came out.

You looked different from the girl twirling on the ice minutes ago. Wet hair and dressed in comfy clothes, no fancy make up or extravagant details, but a solemn expression and puffy eyes. It didn’t matter though because you were still beautiful, he thought and fixed his tie out of sheer anxiety, and opened the door. Your name swayed at the tip of his tongue and was just in need of a small push to reach your ears. Eyes entirely focused on you, Mingi missed the boy walking towards him and slinking through the opening created by the taller man.

“Thanks, bud.” Hyunjin didn’t spare Mingi another glance as he headed straight for you.

At a loss for words and frozen in place, Mingi just watched you fall comfortably in Hyunjin’s arms and as if a masochist he stood rooted and felt his heart squeeze painfully as you melted in his hold, your sobs filling the bleak silence taking residue in Mingi’s head.

One, two, three and four seconds later, Mingi headed home, hands stuffed in his pockets and roses left in the trashcan by the smoking area outside. Thinking back to it, he should’ve given them to Chaeyeon’s mom — or whatever her name was — at least then they’d be rotting away on someone’s kitchen table and not in a random bin on the streets of Seoul.

Entering the shared apartment with Yunho nowhere in sight — something Mingi was grateful for — he stripped out of the expensive clothes and pushed them to the back of his closet, saving his future-self from a painful reminder of what did and didn’t happen. Somewhere in the rational part of his mind, he knew not to be angry with you, but the other part, the selfish and angry one, put the entire blame on you. If there was one thing hated more than losing, it was to be made into a fool.

“I can’t believe I lost,” you said and downed a shot of soju.

Hyunjin quickly snatched the soju bottle from beside you before you could pour yourself another shot, your sixth one to be exact.

You frowned and placed your palms against your heated cheeks. “I’m never figure skating again.”

After the little meet up with Hyunjin, he requested (more like demanded) on treating you to food, and while you insisted he admitted he’d do it either way if you lost or won. That was how you ended up in a meat house, sitting around a table for two as Hyunjin grilled the food.

“Don’t be silly. If you give up now you’ll never win.”

You rolled your eyes and the frown turned even deeper. Gazing down at the sizzling meat, your mouth watered and stomach rumbled impatiently. You could already taste the savory flavors just by looking at it.

“I can’t believe you dragged me here looking like this.”

Hyunjin raised a brow, genuinely not understanding what you meant. To him you looked just fine in a pair of leggings and hoodie, and it didn’t matter that your hair was still wet or your face bare of makeup because you were perfect.

“What’s wrong with the way you look? I think you’re cute.”

A fire lightened in your core and rose up to your cheeks, ears and neck, and the air in the restaurant changed too, suddenly feeling as if you were a chicken sitting in an oven. As your heart didn’t do its usual badum-badum-badum, you realized the effect Hyunjin had on you didn’t appear. You were surprisingly calm. Unbothered even and instead of buzzing with joy you were counting down the seconds until it was time to leave.

Not to get you wrong, you loved his company. You’d been dreaming of days like these since the first time you laid eyes on him and now that you had it, all you wanted was nothing more than to jump in bed and just go into hibernation, and forget about the world.

Something was telling you though, that even if you were eating meat and celebrating your win, you still wouldn’t feel the spirit of a winner. Deep inside, you knew the root of it. The reason as to why a gray cloud hovered over you — besides losing — and it all led back to the absence of a certain hockey player.

“Here, try this.” Hyunjin gently hand fed you a piece of beef and other fillings wrapped in lettuce. “It’s good, huh?”

“You good there, princess?”

You reeled back, momentarily stunned by the unexpected presence. Mingi grinned at your reaction and sat back. Very satisfied with his work. As he readied his own computer, you took in his appearance and found yourself growing more irritated. There was no denying that he was attractive. Thick pink lips, a straight and sharp nose and a very prominent jaw. His brown eyes were surprisingly relaxed and didn’t resemble those of a fox. The boy was even blessed with not one, but two moles. His knitted sweater was an ugly shade of moss green but it looked good on him, much to your dismay.

You sighed and sucked through your teeth, “Why are you here?”

Why wasn’t he there?

It was as if the universe was out to get you.

First, you lost a spot at the Spring Championship. Then you failed an assignment that took a month of your life to get done, and if that wasn’t enough, the representative face of Seoul at next year’s championship was plastered all over town. She was even on the newspaper thrown in your mailbox, which you hadn’t subscribed to! If it weren’t for your personal duo of Chip and Dale, you’d skip school just to avoid it all.

To say, you were feeling down right shit would be an understatement, and everyone around you could feel it. That was probably why Mr. Jung canceled a whole week’s worth of practice and you couldn’t have been more relieved.

Figure skating was the last thing you needed right now.

Besides your friends and coach giving you space or peppering you with love, there was another person to be added in that equation. Hyunjin made sure to spend more time with you, always asking to go out for lunch or a stroll in the park that usually ended up with window shopping and eating ice cream.

“Felix and Changbin have been dying to meet you, you know,” Hyunjin stated as he scooped a spoon of chocolate ice cream.

“Really?”

You remembered Changbin solely by his Halloween party and you pushed aside the other memories that came along with that night. The other boy, Felix, you knew a little next to nothing about.

“Yeah, they haven’t stopped pestering me about it, especially Changbin.”

“Mmm, have you been talking about me, Hyunjin-ah?”

The black haired boy grew red at the teasing and nearly choked on the plastic spoon.

“Wh-what!”

It was the first time you’d ever seen him flustered and it sure was a different sight from his usual composed self. Your chuckle filtered between the giggles and chatter of multiple friend groups. It was a surprise to see so many people outside in the snow. Hyunjin eventually calmed down and returned to his natural skin color, and he proceeded with caution at his next question, slightly afraid to walk straight into another teasing trap.

“They are going to watch that hockey game… if you want, it would be a great time to meet them.”

Truth to be told, you had completely forgotten about that sport and it had everything to do with Mingi, the only connection you had to the hockey team of your university. The last time you saw him was a few days before your performance and you hadn’t seen him since, at one moment you thought he disappeared to another country, but Keeho’s confirmation of seeing him on campus debunked that theory. It wasn’t that weird though, considering you hadn’t stepped foot in the ice rink and didn’t share any classes with him, courtesy of majoring in two completely different studies.

You wouldn’t say it to anyone, not even Dasom, but the less you saw of him, the more bored you got. Obviously, you didn’t miss his irksome comments or that stupid pet name he’d use at any given moment, yet the days seemed to go slower without the pain in the ass of a man. Going to that hockey game would maybe change that, and what better excuse than to go with Hyunjin?

“Of course! I mean,” you cleared your throat. “Of course, I’ll check if I’m free and then I’ll let ya know.”

“Great. It’s next Friday and, unluckily, I pulled the short straw so I’ll be driving… So if you can and want, there's space in my car.”

Parting your mouth to answer, the left side of your brain suddenly halted all your speech function as you caught sight of a familiar figure.

In the many places of Seoul, he just had to be in the same park as you. Wearing a blue tracksuit with the slogan of a wolf on the front and running sneakers adorning his feet, told you he was out on a late night run. It was quite unfair how even with his hair sticking to his nape and sweat trickling down the sides of his face, Mingi still looked great.

You and Mingi had never been friends — that much you knew — but for him to just run past you without as much as a nod of acknowledgement had you questioning if something was wrong. His exhausted eyes morphed into a nasty glare as they landed on you, which served as a nail in the coffin to your theories.

“Was that Song Mingi?” Hyunjin asked from beside you.

“Yeah. Yeah, it was.”

“What’s wrong, bean?”

Laying upside down on your bed with feet tucked beneath your pillow and your head a few inches from the edge apparently wasn’t a normal thing to do if Dasom assumed something was going on.

“Nothing, everything is perfectly fine.”

Everything was perfectly fine if you ignored the fact that Mingi was angry with you and was intentionally avoiding you like the plague.

“Mmmm.”

Dasom fell back and mimicked your position, arms thrown out and eyes locked on the ceiling. Some days were like that, spent doing absolutely nothing. Wrapped in big fuzzy blankets laying in either her or your bed, getting lost in space or scrolling endlessly through tiktok until the clock struck the early hours of the morning.

“You still going to that game?”

You huffed, “Yeah. I promised Hyunjin I’d go and he wants to introduce me to some of his friends in return. Is Hongjoong still coming over?”

“He hasn’t rain checked on me yet, so I think so.” She drummed her fingers against her shorts-clad thighs. “Isn’t the game at eight?”

“Yup.”

“Cool. Cool.”

You slid down to the floor, brows furrowed and lips titled. “What time is it?”

“Now?”

“Yes, Dasom. Now.”

“Hmmm, it’s currently seven-thirty.”

“It’s seven-thirty!?”

The blood rushed up to your head at your abrupt movement and the whole room spun as black spots clouded your vision. Left with no choice you laid back down and clutched your skull as you tried taking control of your own body again, all while assessing the situation. The game started at eight and you had approximately thirty minutes to get changed and figure out a way to get there before then. The messages Hyunjin sent you earlier today flashed in your mind and you were starting to regret turning down his offer to pick you up, at least then you wouldn’t risk being late and embarrassing yourself in front of his friends.

“Okay, I’m jumping in the shower real quick while you put together an outfit for me that doesn’t scream ‘I spent five minutes on this’ as I walk through the doors.”

Jumping to her feet with an imaginary tail wagging left and right, she saluted. A determined yet excited look on her face. Besides writing poetry in the dim light of your fridge at three AM, Dasom had a big passion for fashion and would always play dress up with you during your childhood days.

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am!”

A trail of water followed from the bathroom to the bedroom and stopped below your feet. You stood with a towel wrapped around your bare body as you watched Dasom finalizing your outfit. The clothes on your bed were a baggy gray sweatshirt with bold letters spelling out ‘TORONTO’ — borrowed from Keeho and never returned — and a pair of blue jeans. It didn’t give too much, but was still appropriate for where you were going.

“Okay, go put it on. Have you figured out a way to get there?”

Shimmying on the clothes you heaved out a breath. “Nope.”

“Want me to call Kyo?”

“It’s a Friday so I’m sure he’s pre-gaming with Jiung and the others.”

“That’s true… I mean I could always give you a ride on my bike?”

You laughed at that. The bike in question was bright purple, almost lilac-ish with shimmering tinsel handels and star shaped wheel clips. It was cute, but embarrassing at the same time. Plus it would be a shit-show, you sitting on the carrier holding on for dear life while Dasom would do her best not to run people over. She was not the most trusted driver, hence the lack of a driver’s license (that she’s tried for five times and failed every single one).

“As much as I love you, I’d rather be late than arrive on that oddity and risk a broken arm or leg.”

“Hmpf, well if you don’t appreciate Melody then you can walk there!” She crossed her arms and pouted, her lower lip jutting in a show of feigned hurt.

“I don’t really mean it, Dae-Dae, I love youuuuu! I’ll come back with something nice to make up for it.”

The sour golden retriever-looking girl immediately brightened at the mention of a treat and wrapped her arms around you, her chin digging above your sternum.

“Can you buy those shrimp chips that I like?”

“Deal! I seriously gotta go now, I’ll text you when I get there. Kisses and hugs and all that bullshit!”

For once you were grateful not having a car as the parking lot was packed with them and other vehicles. It must have been a big deal if some people just blatantly abandoned their cars on the sidewalk, yellow tickets flapping on their windshields. The match was in full swing and it was everything you could expect of a hockey game. Red and blue blurs of jerseys zoomed past you, the sound of blades against ice, the livid roar of the crowd, cutting blows of a whistle, sticks cracking against the puck sounding like thunder and the thump as an opponent was checked against the boards. Seeing the bleachers full of people wasn’t something you expected when you crossed the entrance. The sides were divided into two parts — red and blue — and while you weren’t about to backstab your own university by sitting with the ‘enemy’ you found no empty seats between the Blue Wolf supporters. The other side wasn’t anything better except for the few vacant seats here and there, and more nude chests and faces covered in paint.

This was everything but your scenery.

Staring through the plexiglas you tried spotting the familiar mop of black and white hair you hadn’t seen since God knows when. You gave up as you quickly realized the gear covered almost the entirety of their faces and body proportions, making everyone look identical to one another, the only thing differentiating them being the numbers and colors of their jerseys that did little to help as you didn’t even know his. A pair of hands suddenly grabbed your shoulders and you jumped at the unexpected touch, hastily turning to see who the culprit was and coming face to face with a grinning Hyunjin.

“Boo!”

“Don’t do that!”

His beautiful laugh reached your ears and emitted a chuckle of your own. He coaxed you into his body and enfolded you in a warm embrace that you reciprocated, chin on his shoulder and arms going around his waist. It was first when the hug broke that you could finally take in his full appearance. His whole attire — suit pants, a tucked in turtleneck and leather boots — were completely black except for the long and expensive-looking jean coat and red beanie showing support for the opposing team.

“Let’s go, I have to introduce you to some of my friends.”

Without missing a beat he took your hand in his and intertwined your fingers as he gently maneuvered you through the crowd. Every few seconds you flinched as the people jumped up from their seats, cheering or groaning at what was happening down below.

From across the rink in the bench area adjacent to the ice, the red and blue players filled the booths closest to their goalkeepers. The game was in full swing with both teams scoring a point each and neither willing to let up on their explosive paces. The substitute players were all buzzing from excitement or nerves — probably a combination of both — as they shouted encouraging words to the starting lineup. Like the remaining defencemen of the blue team, Mingi sat in the middle with his hockey stick high up in the air and shoulders squishing against his fellow position players, but his eyes weren’t trained on the puck flying from one player to another. No, they were set on the pair of figure skaters on the other side of the rink. More precisely, he was focused on their interlocked hands and the subtle exchange of smiles.

A red light and the loud blaring of the goal horn went off in the arena as the opposing team managed to hurl the puck behind the blue goalkeeper and Mingi could argue it was how he felt on the inside seeing you together. The big crowd jumped from their seats, waving their red merch and screaming words Mingi couldn’t hear over the angry voice of his coach.

“Matthew, what the hell are you doing?!”

“Wow… This is really annoying. We’re only ten minutes into the first period and we’ve already received two points,” Jungkook fumed.

It was weird that neither Mingi or Jungkook were a part of the starting lineup, considering they were up against one of the better teams of the season. Trusting that their coach was making the right decision of keeping them off the ice, Mingi didn’t try persuading him to be put in. There were still two and a half periods left of the game, leaving plenty of time for Mingi to change the course of the match if needed to. It also gave him more time to keep an eye on you and simmer in his own rage, if he just hadn’t lost you in the three seconds he looked away. Frantically searching the bleachers for a girl with a blue scarf wrapped around her neck, you were nowhere to be seen.

“Song!”

The abrupt call of his name snapped him out of his search and he was met with the beetroot red face of his coach.

“Are you deaf?!”

“Nu-uh. No, sir!”

“Then get off your ass, you’re going in.” As Mingi stood up, his coach threw an arm around his shoulders and pulled him in closer. “Remember what we talked about. There are scouts watching and they’ve heard great things about this Song Mingi, so show them you’re not all talk, yeah?”

Mingi pushed in his mouth guard and nodded determinedly.

Coach patted him encouragingly and gave one last pat on his helmet for luck.

“Good, get in there and put a stop to their number three.”

Everything turned to background noise as Mingi leaped over the board and his blades slashed against the cool surface. There was only him and his defending zone, and the fact that you were somewhere in the crowd, probably watching him or getting cozy with that stupid figure skater. The grip around his hockey stick tightened at the image and he hated the effect you still had on him. He should’ve been worrying about being on top of his game and impressing the scouts, and not what you were up to.

Mingi and Matthew held the blue line and passed the puck between each other as the remaining blue players skated around in the offensive zone, searching for an opening to get the puck handed to them. As Mingi slid the puck to Matthew, the bigger defender quickly hurled it to the next player only for the pass to be cut off.

Going backwards, Mingi immediately retreated home while putting pressure on the puck carrier and simultaneously keeping him from having a clear view of the net. He skillfully managed to push the opposing player (without physical contact) to the side in the defensive zone. He quickly realized that he was closed off and sent the puck diagonally backwards to another red player who moved with such speed, Mingi knew he wouldn't be able to stop the additional player in time. Protests erupted from the bench as all fourteen substitute players had a hunch of what was going to happen.

To his aid came Matthew and the two defensemen managed to shut down a possible counterattack. As the remaining players entered the defending zone, the puck was still in the possession of the red team. It landed in the hold of their number three, who was a few diagonal meters from Mingi. The winger locked gazes with the blue defender and sent him a smug smirk, tauntingly saying ‘watch this’ as he winded his hockey stick up to his shoulder and readied himself for a slapshot.

Losing all control of his body, Mingi changed the trajectory of his movements and skated almost backwards while getting in number three’s sight of line. Mingi waited for the perfect timing and when the red player rushed forward to skate past him, Mingi jutted out his hip, flipping the opponent over him and stealing the puck in the process. Cheers erupted in the arena and Mingi soared at the jumbled praises and roars of encouragement.

“This is Felix and that’s Changbin, they attend TOP University. Lix-ie, Bin-ie, this is the friend I’ve been telling you about,” Hyunjin introduced you as the crowd calmed down.

The two guys weren’t dressed in anything over the top, basic hoodies and joggers or a pair of jeans with small accessories showing their support for the Red Tigers which made you feel out of place with Keeho’s blue scarf wrapped around your neck. You recognized one of them as the guy who hosted that halloween party; buffy build, a triangle shaped head, but kind features.

“Hey.”

The deep voice that greeted you didn’t match the sunshine-face of the other boy beside Changbin. A sprinkle of freckles covered his nose and cheeks, his eyes crinkling as he offered you a sun-like smile that matched the color of his hair.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” you gently said and sat in the spot beside the sunshine-boy.

“It’s great to finally see the girl this one’s been obsessing about,” Changbin butted in with a teasing grin and earned himself a slap on the thigh by Felix.

“Just ignore him, he loves to tease.”

“Ah, that’s okay. I know banter when I hear it,” you smiled reassuringly and looked at the game below.

One would think that because ice was your dome, you’d easily understand other winter sports, but you were truly having trouble keeping up with whatever was going on in the newly polished rink. The puck was traveling a hundred miles an hour and the skaters were freakishly fast, you could barely keep up with who was attacking and who was defending. It seemed like the moment one team scored, the other was immediately taking back a point. On top of all, you had zero knowledge about the rules. To say you were surprised when a — what looked to be dangerous and illegal — tackle occurred, would be an understatement. You expected at least someone to jump out of sheer anger, but no one batted an eye. They just kept watching and the players resumed as if it were the most normal thing of the day.

“Do you want to die?” Chan growled as he bumped shoulders with Mingi, getting all up in the defenseman’s face.

The chants of the Blue Wolves’ fans sent another surge of adrenaline through Mingi’s veins, not that he needed it, but gave him an ego boost to return the cockiness to the max.

“I should be asking you that. Don’t think you can get past us just like that. I’ll shut you down, Chan-hyung.”

In any other circumstance and in a conversation with quite literally anyone else, the use of honorific wouldn’t have been out of place, but hearing it come from Mingi wasn’t an indication of respect. It was a ploy to humiliate him and a way to set the tone of the game. In other words, telling him not to expect an easy win. Chan didn’t think anything less.

“I’d like to see you try.”

Mingi scoffed, a smirk of triumph playing across his lips. “I already did and guess what, hyung. I’ll do it again and again, and again. You will not get past me. I’ll knock you down until your ass makes a dent on the ice.”

Returning the ever-so-kind favor of butting shoulders, Mingi pushed past him and stopped right behind his center, ready to receive the puck or defend if the odds played out in the red team’s favor.

“I’m sorry about what happened at the preliminaries,” Felix smiled empathically and placed a hand on your shoulder for support. “If it makes you feel better, I thought you were perfect and deserved to win.”

You forced a smile at the reminder of the event. The wound was still fresh and even though Felix didn’t have any ill intentions with bringing it up, it still didn’t spare you from the bitter taste of winning — if it could even be considered a victory — second place.

“Thank you, but the jury is rarely ever wrong.”

“Tell me about it,” he started and focused momentarily on the game again. “It still doesn’t change my opinion on who should’ve won though.”

Before you could thank him again and express your gratitude to his kindness, Hyunjin joined the conversation. “Oh, I see you’ve found yourself a new figure skating partner.”

Glancing from Felix to Hyunjin and back to Felix again, you pointed at the freckled boy. “You’re a figure skater too?”

“Yup, I've been training with Jin-ie since elementary school. A tick would be easier to shake off than him.”

“Oh, don’t be like that, everyone practically begged you to sit beside them but no, little Lixie the new student decided it would be best to annoy Hyunjin-ie in the back.”

With a witty remark waiting on the tip of his tongue, Felix parted his lips, but was interrupted by Changbin abruptly standing up, hands clasped around his mouth and shouting, “Come on Chan! Don’t let him get away with that!”

Glancing down at the rink, you noticed number three in the red team was pushed against the border with a blue guy towering over him. Both guys seemed to be communicating through their eyes and if it weren’t for their teammates getting in between, you were sure a full on fist fight would’ve taken place in front of everyone.

“You’d think Chan was his boyfriend and not mine,” Felix said to you — more so screamed over the loud cheers and hollers of distress — and watched an agitated Changbin slump back down in his seat, eyes following the flying puck kissing the net of the red goalkeeper.

“Boyfriend?”

“Ah, right, of course Hyunjin wouldn’t talk about his friends. Anyways I’m dating number three in the red team, maybe you’ve heard of him. Bang Chan or Christopher, whatever seems fitting.”

Your mouth turned into an ‘o’ as the puzzle pieces clasped together. Felix never stopped smiling and even chuckled at your reaction. He found you endearing and understood why Hyunjin wouldn’t stop talking about you during their study sessions.

“I take it, you know him?”

“Mmmm, I wouldn’t say I know him but we had a brief encounter at a halloween party.”

“Ah, that’s cool. The world is really small, isn’t it?”

The buzzer beat you to an answer, indicating that the twenty minutes of the second period were out.

“Oh, and that’s halftime,” Felix said and stood up to stretch.

Changbin shot him a deadly stare, as if the figure skater cursed out his entire family. “You know it’s not called that. It’s an intermission!”

“Eh, we don’t keep up with all that in Australia. Halftime is halftime in whatever sport you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you were Australian,” you admitted.

“What, really?” He said in English and then switched back to Korean. “All the people I meet point out I speak with an accent so I’m surprised you didn’t notice.”

“Yeah, now that you’ve said it I can actually hear like the faintest accent. Oh, that’s embarrassing of me.” You sheepishly smiled and scratched the back of your head.

“Nah, not really. Anyway, Bin-ie and I are gonna get some snacks, you guys want anything?”

“I’m alright, thank you though.”

Felix threw you a thumbs up and looked at Hyunjin for his reply.

“Yeah, surprise me with something good.”

“Gotcha! We’ll be back like a lil’ before they start if we don’t get held up by the bathrooms. Changbin sure does love to take his time there.”

As the duo followed the crowd out, you and Hyunjin fell into a comfortable silence and listened to the chatter of the people around you. For being your first time at a hockey game, you weren’t bored at all, despite being oblivious to the set of rules. Keeho did say something about fights being legal and you sincerely hoped to avoid that. The sport on ice you were aware of was so less violent, flashy and fast paced. It was so different from your figure skating which was more or less art or a story being conveyed by body language.

Nonetheless, you were still having a good time, even though much of it was spent getting acquainted with Hyunjin’s friends.

“So… what do you think of the game so far?”

Snapping from the ice taken over by a bunch of kids chasing each other and falling on their rears, you hummed and looked back at Hyunjin who already had his eyes on you.

“It’s interesting. I mean, it’s nothing like figure skating, obviously, but it’s cool… Do you guys always do this? Watch hockey?”

“Mmm, not always, but whenever Chan has a game we try to show our support just like he does whenever Lix or I have anything going on with our figure skating.”

“That’s sweet of you. That’s actually really cute,” you gushed and the thought reminded you of your own friend group. How Keeho and Dasom showed up at your competitions or the many times you and Keeho attended Dasom’s poetry slam.

Hyunjin leaned closer to you, a playful smile across his features. “I don’t like being called cute, but considering it’s coming from you I’ll let it slide.”

Taken back by the almost flirtatious side of Hyunjin, you bashfully looked away and cheekily covered your mouth, hiding the way your smile expanded at his comment. Hyunjin, attentive as always, took notice of the action and chuckled.

“How, uhm…”

You leaned back in your seat and braided your fingers together as the change of topic went from cheerful to sullen.

“I didn’t want to ask in front of those two, but yeah… How you holding up?”

Still trying to hold up your happy expression, you faced him and tilted your head, and Hyunjin had to physically hold back from planting a kiss on your cute nose.

“I’ve been alright. There’s not much I can do to be honest and I don’t want to dwell on it more than necessary, you know?”

“That’s understandable. Why think about the things that make you feel bad?”

“Exactly. I’ve decided to focus on the more happier things in life.” You grimaced as a hockey player tripped and smacked head first into the plastic glass. “Even if that is watching people get concussions for just 13.000 won.”

Hyunjin burst out laughing, elegantly covering his mouth with the back of his hand and tipping his head backwards. A laugh of your own lingered with his and the multiple cheers in the air.

“Three for three, Jeon Jungkook does it again! The nimble winger of the Blue Wolves can’t be stopped!”

The announcement sounded through the arena a few seconds after the red lights flashed behind the Tiger’s goal and buzzer erupted, nearly rupturing your eardrums. Jungkook was really on a blast tonight, you thought as you followed his retreating figure, making a mental note of remembering his jersey number. Although you had yet to find Mingi, you felt proud for at least figuring out Jungkook and Chan, completely dismissing the fact that you barely knew a handful of players on the ice.

“You’re doing great out there, Kookie.” Mingi dunked him on the back as they retreated to the neutral zone. “Make that into five out of five and I’ll treat you to some lamb skewers.”

The smirk stretched across Jungkook’s face could only be described as menacingly and with him in his element, Mingi knew they weren’t going to go down without a fight.

“Add steamed dumplings into the mix and I’ll double it.”

As the referee held the puck in the air between the red and blue centers, the rest of the players prepared themselves for another brawl over who put the puck behind the opposing net. Mingi was warm all over, and the extra weight of pads and equipment was taking a toll on his body, as well as defending his home base, but each time a player was stopped, the pride was enough to resurrect his energy. Glancing slightly to the side, everything moved in slow motion as he briefly made eye contact with the supporters of both teams. Some were screaming at him out of happiness and others with harmless distaste, angry at his ability to shut down the reds’ plays and advances. Moving further up the rows, it was like a headlight lit up a spot in the crowd, and suddenly, amongst the hundreds of people, he could make you out like a tulip in the middle of a meadow.

The hold around his stick tightened seeing you squished between pretty boy and an unrecognizable face, and Mingi promised he didn’t care. He didn’t care as pretty boy whispered something in your ear and he definitely didn’t care as you flung your head backward, and let out what probably was the most angelic laughter known to heaven. Smoke erupted from his nostrils and the moment the puck was in possession of the red team, the vibrant colored jerseys irked him like a matador irritatnig a bull. As the puck was in play, all sound ceased to exist and Mingi zeroed in on the players advancing forward.

Mingi would describe it as being underwater with all the noise distant and his movement sluggish no matter how hard he tried to lift his limbs, and if he wasn’t so aware of his surroundings, Mingi would certainly think he was losing one of his five senses.

See, although ice hockey was a sport all about seeing and physical contact, hearing was an important part too and if Mingi wasn’t revolted by your presence, he wouldn’t have missed the referee signaling an offside, and he wouldn’t have skated into the first player daring to cross the blue line that separated the defending and neutral zone.

The referee immediately blew his whistle and fully extended his right arm, fist clenched and eyes set on the defenseman, and time turned back to normal as a pop-like sound burst in Mingi’s ears. He barely managed to realize what happened when another body collided against his, pushing him straight into the boards. Chaos ensued as multiple players got involved trying to ease the situation, but the damage was already done and Mingi was sent to the penalty box — purposely avoiding the heavy gazes of the blue bench — along with whichever guy flew into him.

He cursed out loud as he slumped down on the bench. This was embarrassing on so many levels. It was one thing to ram into someone as payback, but lashing out for no apparent reason and after the whistle was (almost) unacceptable. He wanted to laugh at his stupidity; so much for not caring.

“What happened?” You asked no one in particular, surprised at the sudden turn of events.

“Nothing out of the ordinary. Ah, that Song Mingi, always up to no good,” Changbin grumbled, more so to himself than you.

You snapped your eyes to the plastic enclosure the blue player was sent off to and sunk your teeth into your bottom lip. Through the year you had known Mingi, you’d never guess he could really use his size and strength to quite literally floor another person. Hockey was a rough sport, that wasn’t news to you, and considering Mingi could use his strength to his advantage, it was probably why he was so sought after. You couldn’t shake away this feeling of awareness. Just now realizing how… big Mingi actually was and you didn't know whether it was relief or pride, knowing that of all the times you pushed him over the edge, never once did he raise a finger at you out of anger or spite.

Mingi may have been an asshole with 70% height and muscle, but he wasn’t a bad guy.

“That’s called roughing,” Felix started explaining. “It’s like… I wouldn’t say it’s an illegal move, but if done out of motive or in a way to really hurt the other player, it could lead to a minor penalty — a timeout — or game misconduct. But it all depends on how bad the situation is.”

“So he won’t play until the end of the game?”

“Nah, he’ll probably be out in like a few minutes,” Hyunjin answered for you and clapped as the red team scored, evening out the score board to five-five.

“Then the blue team will be a player short up until then?.”

“Pretty much,” Felix confirmed and popped a chip in his mouth.

You didn’t see how that could be fair, but then again, ice hockey wasn’t your forthe and as no one in the crowd was making a fuss over Mingi’s penalty — except for pointing out his poor judgment — you didn’t say much else, but hum in agreement. For twelve minutes, you didn’t pay attention to what was happening on the ice, only applauding when the crowd did and slumped back in your seat as the supporters groaned in disappointment. Your full attention was set on the lone player in the plastic box.

Worry, confusion and pity circled your mind and you wondered if this was how everyone felt seeing the placement of your figure skating competition. As soon as the thought made home in your head, you shooed it away, reminding yourself to focus on the happy things and not everything that was blue.

Forcing your eyes from Mingi, the most blue thing in the arena (both clothing and emotion wise) you zoned out and the players blurred into small vivid spots twirling on the ice like flies above a bowl of fruit. You didn’t understand where the worry came from or why it decided to take shelter in your stomach. It probably wasn’t Mingi’s first rodeo in the penalty box and wouldn’t be the last on either, and you recognized his sudden outburst as the one you saw a glimpse of at the party, right before you left him with that blonde police officer.

Mingi never lashed out in anger and if he did, you were never on the receiving end of it despite giving him back a tenfold of insults he greeted you with. Seeing him quite literally floor a guy his size, made your guts twist in discomfort. It was an emotion that didn’t look good on him at all.

The game was growing more intense with each minute passing and the atmosphere amongst the audience was also getting rowdier as the teams were practically neck and neck, neither willing to let up. The second Mingi stepped foot on the ice again, the whole arena blew up with cheers. It was like the almost extinguished torch of hope re-awakened into a bright and lively fire, and you too held onto the light of hope that the Blue Wolves would take it home, definitely because of your loyalty to Tiny University and not the growing affection for a certain defender in said school.

The puck was flying from one side of the rink to the other in just a matter of seconds with all players, excluding the goalkeepers, circling around and cashing the rubber like stone.

“Here, wanna help me hold this up?”

You didn’t know how you missed the big sign leaning against Felix’s legs, but you did. With a nod of agreement, you both took hold of each side of the white cardboard cutout and quickly looked at the glittery blue writing on it.

I am Chan’s #1 fan.

“Don’t judge, I made it like last second.” A blush kissed his cheeks and his eyes squeezed into crescent moons as you read the corny line.

“No, no! I think it’s cute.”

With ten seconds left of the game everyone in the arena stood up which made you and Felix raise the sign even higher. When everyone thought the game would end in a tie, a player from the defending line of the blue team somehow managed to steal the puck from two red players and sent it hurling across the rink, right in the sanctuary of his teammate’s stick who calculatedly launched it towards the red goal and past its keeper. The buzzer went off and chaos ensued. From what you could see all the Blue Wolves players crowded the scorer and dunked the defender who sent the winning assist, while the fans raised the volume through the roof. Whistling, cheers, laughter, even some old fashion booing circulated the arena.

Not all that upset with the outcome of the game, Felix applauded and turned to his friend who seemed to be quite butthurt. “Song really is crazy good, isn’t he Bin-ie?”

“Whatever, he’s lucky Jake sprained his ankle and couldn’t play today or he’d have them all eating ice. Ha! Get it, cause they’re playing on i–”

The rest of the conversation was tuned out as you focused on the celebrating team, trying to catch sight of eighty-nine. Your eyes traveled from one bulky player to another and then, as if your prayers were answered, the player came right into view.

Mingi walked beside a shorter guy clad in blue and you assumed it was Chan by the sole way he pointed up at you and the other guys. Your suspicion was confirmed as the helmet was removed and Chan’s face was illuminated by the strong lights. You could just make out the faint movement of his mouth, saying something to the giant beside him.

“Good to know your girl is cheering for the right team, Mings.”

Mingi followed the invisible line leading to where you stood and scanned the group of friends. He immediately recognized Hyunjin and the buff one, and he didn’t even manage to take a proper look at the third boy as his eyes found yours. Beautiful as ever, he thought and admired as much of you as possible. Your face, clothes, make-up and everything about you was perfect, and the passive aggressive comment was almost brushed to the side until he zeroed in on the paper in your hands. It was in that moment that the rose-tinted glasses slipped down his nose, jealousy quick to seep into every corner of his existence and he remembered why he’d been avoiding you for weeks.

Before he could send you a sharp (and unjustified) glare, he redirected his anger to the guy beside him.

“Oh, don’t be like that. She was the one to look at me first.

Mingi wasn’t a violent person, he really wasn’t, but there was no acceptable excuse for why he did what he did.

As if born ready for this day, Mingi used his teeth to tear off his gloves and pounced on Chan. One hand grabbed around the collar of his red jersey as the other was colliding with his cheek. He managed to get in two more punches — the first successfully collided with Chan’s jaw and the second just barely missed the bone of his nose — before Chan used his own limbs to defend himself. The red winger grabbed hold of Mingi’s helmet and snatched it off his head, and seized the chance to send a fist flying in his face, returning the punches he received from the blue defender. Red bruises quickly littered across their knuckles and warm blood covered their skin, the thick liquid pouring from both Chan’s nose and Mingi’s lip.

The crowd was going wild, the whistles of the referees were being ignored and it didn’t take long before the remaining players of each team were trying to separate the two brutes.

“Oh my God!”

Felix and Changbin flinched at your gasp.

“He’s fucking crazy. Hey! What the hell?!” Changbin jumped between the seats and rocketed down towards the ice with the rest of you hot on his heels.

The silence was deafening. Everyone was curious as to what was going on and why a fight ensued now that the game was over, usually the nose breaking happened on ice and not off. Whispers and rumors spread like a wildfire, some claimed it was the aftermath of adrenaline while others thought of something more extreme like hard drugs taking over. Nonetheless, the crowd riled them on, clearly finding joy in the brawl. You weren’t anywhere near when the referees and teammates broke them up, Mingi being forcefully sent towards the locker room as Chan stayed laying on the ground, crimson face and teeth no longer pearly white.

“What the hell, Mingi,” you muttered under your breath and slipped through the mass of people, running to where you assumed he’d be.

Your head was working a hundred miles an hour with the images of Mingi hunched over Chan, fists violently beating the blonde and a lot of blood covering his face. You were sure you’d never get them out of your head and you shuddered at the amount of red that ran down Chan’s nose. For the sake of the giant asshole you grew attached to, you hoped it wouldn’t put a stop to his career, both school- and sportwise. It would by far be his dumbest decision yet. For what even?

A group of reporters stood outside a door you assumed was reserved for the Blue Wolves and if that wasn’t enough of a give away then it was the loud cheers and victory singing echoing out to the hallway. In reality you wanted nothing more than to barge inside and interrupt their celebration — how they could celebrate after that bloodbath was still something you couldn’t wrap your head around — but you did no such thing. The moment the door opened you pushed the reporters aside and flew in with your head first, paying no mind to the perverse wolf whistles and cheers of the adrenaline drunken boys. You didn’t even bother with them as your eyes scanned the room that smelled of sweat and axe deodorant for him. Jungkook, seemingly the most normal one there (which spoke volumes), quickly understood why you were there and approached you with no teasing glint or malice in his gaze.

“Try looking by the abandoned gym on the ground floor. There’s a vending machine there we usually go to so I assume if he’s taken off somewhere it should be there.”

You wasted no time in turning on your heel and practically sprinting down the route you repeated like a mantra. First floor. Abandoned gym. Vending machine. First floor. Abandoned gym. Vending machine.

Lo and behold, he was right there and if it weren’t for the worry growing in your belly you’d go back upstairs and reward the playboy with a big smooch to his rosy lips.

Mingi sat down on the floor, legs up to his chest and forearms folded on his knees. His sweaty forehead was leaning against the skin of his arm and an anxious rhythm of his heart beat in his chest. It was hard to miss the red on his knuckles. Inhaling a shaky breath as if it would steady your own heart, your feet stopped before him falling right in his line of sight. Surprised at the unexpected company, Mingi looked up and got a first row ticket of the concern swimming in your eyes. You didn’t know what to expect going after him, but the annoyed — almost disgusted — scoff he let out cut through you like a knife and twisted as he looked back down. Despite the act of annoyance aimed at you, Mingi wasn’t actually that annoyed with you but rather with himself because after everything he still had the urge to reach for your touch and he hated it. His jaw clenched at the circumstance and his nails dug in the palms of his hands. You weren’t even supposed to be here, it made everything ten times harder than it should’ve been.

Having had enough of his pity party Mingi and the weight of your gaze judging him, he pushed up from his position and walked right past you. No hello, no second glances, just walking as if you were a ghost he couldn’t see let alone feel. His movements halted when you latched onto one of his wrists, knowing that if he truly wanted to get away he’d shake you off like a ragdoll and be on his merry way. Although he was with his back facing you, the fact that he stood rooted to the ground was the approval you seeked to continue with your winged attempt at getting him to speak.

“Mingi, what the hell was that?”

The two of you weren’t heavy on the use of honorifics, but hearing you spit his name out like that surely sent a shiver down his spine. You weren’t pissed off, he noticed, you were actually worried and it was quite amusing. The nerve you had of showing up after that fiasco to interrogate him about his actions. Who the hell did you think you were?

“Huh? Why did you do that?” Shaking his arm, you tried again. “Can you please say something? I’m worried for you and your silence isn’t helping, please just say something.”

Mingi didn’t budge and you were starting to lose it. The avoidance wasn't enough, now he was blatantly ignoring your attempt at helping too.

“What is your problem?! I’m trying to help you, something’s obviously happened so why won’t you tell me!”

Ripping his wrist out of your hold, he turned around and it took every particle in you not to cower at his sharp eyes staring you down.

“You want to know what my problem is?” His loud voice bounced off the walls and punched you right in the gut.

There was so much anger in his gaze, his tone and his body. Everything screamed of anger and you didn’t even know why you were on the receiving end of his emotions. You were just trying to help.

“You! You are my fucking problem!”

“What?”

“As if you don’t know what you’re doing. Acting all nice and cutesy like we are friends, like you’re interested in ever befriending me which now that I think about is so stupid because you and I? What a joke. We’re a fucking joke!”

“What are you even talking about?!”

Mingi scoffed again. He looked to the side, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. There were so many thoughts going through his head and all he could think about was what words to use to hurt you the most. To make you feel the hurt he did.

“First, you invite me to your stupid competition and then you come to my game sitting with him! Was this all a game, huh? To get back at me for all the dumb shit I did to you because if it is then wow, you’ve really proven yourself to be more shallow and boneless than I ever thought. I mean, you’re really going out of your way to get under my skin and act like a fucking–”

Mingi closed his eyes and clamped his mouth shut, the veins on his neck were more prominent than ever and his face was almost identical to the red color of Dasom’s hair. He really needed to calm down before he said something he’d regret. Not that it mattered, the damage was already done and he knew the aftermath was already biting him in the ass. Shit, the look of your glossy eyes was quick to make his inside burn with remorse.

Each insult was a poisoned arrow aimed at your heart. The words physically hurt you more than ever before and you weren’t aware just how mean Mingi could be. Your previous bickering never stooped on a level this low before and it brought tears to your eyes but even that wasn't enough to stop his rant. Not wanting to be caught vulnerable in front of the guy who was practically stepping on you with his shoes, you quickly wiped away the tears that managed to escape.

Mingi knew he was taking his frustration out on you and he knew it wasn’t fair because you hadn’t done anything wrong. It all kept piling on his shoulders. All the instances he saw you two together; the joint practices, your embarrassed giggles any time Hyunjin breathed, watching him console you in the hallways like a poor reenactment of a romcom, sitting so close together at his game, shoulders touching a little too close for Mingi’s liking… If that stupid piece of cardboard was a bomb waiting to be activated, then Chan was the flame that set everything off.

“Oh, great. This is really great now you’re fucking crying too. You think some tears are going to make me feel bad? They won’t, I don’t care anymore okay? I’m done with you and your fucking shit. So go back to your prince fucking charming and don’t even bother looking for me, you hear? I’m fucking done!”

You shrunk back at his unwavering and stern voice. Having nothing more to say Mingi stormed away, blood boiling and hands shaking as the final words set in. The last you saw of him before gut-wrenching sobs wrecked your body was the door slamming up against the wall and back the doorframe so hard the walls vibrated. And later that same night when Mingi got home, he wouldn’t even be surprised if you decided to never look at him again, let alone speak with him.

Different emotions tore you apart and it was hard to make sense of anything that happened in the past ten minutes. The questions — what, why, how — were endless and you wanted to go home, preferably dig a hole in your bed and not come out until better days, whenever that would be you didn’t know. Tears burned your cheeks like lava and snot tickled your nose, dropping off your chin and onto your shirt. With the already wet sleeve of your sweater you wiped everything off your face, not in the right mind to care about what Keeho would say about his precious shirt. Like a baby cub seeking its momma bear for comfort, you retreated home yearning for the closest touch of a mother you could find.

“You have reached the voicemail of Choi Dasom. Please leave a message after the beep.”

After the fifth attempted call, you gave up and continued trudging home. Dark clouds hovered over Seoul and the light pelts of rain quickly became a downpour. Being picked up on Dasom’s bike didn’t seem like such a bad idea anymore.

Unlocking the front door of your shared apartment you were greeted with Hongjoong and Dasom sitting awfully close on the couch. They jumped apart as you harshly dropped the keys in the fruit bowl and froze at the sight of you; bawling, wet and shivering. Skipping the formalities you wasted no time diving in the shower and by the time you ventured back out, Hongjoong was nowhere to be seen as if the boy was never there to begin with and you couldn’t have been more relieved. You’ve had enough boys for the next ten years of your life.

“Beans?”

It was probably the dumbest thing to cry about, but your lips still quivered and the tears you just managed to stop surfaced at the nickname. The girl caught you in her arms and you buried your head in her shoulder as your cries got louder. Dasom offered you solace with gentle rubs to your back and patiently waited until your labored breathing became even.

“Let’s get you to bed,” she whispered and slowly guided you to your bedroom.

Attentive as always she helped you get under the covers and shuffled in beside you to which you immediately buried your face in her bosom, her hand slank under your neck and connected with the other at the back of your head. You lay there in each other’s presence and listened to the coexisting beat of your hearts. Dasom didn’t try coaxing the troubles out of you and you heaved out a big breath. A wave of exhaustion washed over you at the constant tears and after waking up from passing out of exhaustion, you knew you’d be a victim of an unbearable headache and heavy feet. The whisper of your name was loud in the silent room and you hummed in reply, letting the other girl know you were in fact awake.

“You wanna talk about it?”

The most obvious thing would be to talk about it; talk about why you burst through the door, face wet and not entirely because of the rain. Your mom always told you to never sleep with an empty stomach, a busy mind or a heavy heart and while you didn’t appreciate the advice at the minute, future-you would (hopefully) think back to this moment and thank you for your courage. Dasom followed in tow as you sat up criss-crossed, taking your hands in hers and giving them comforting squeezes every once in a while. By the time she was pulled through the story of your evening — meeting Changbin and Felix, having a good time with Hyunjin, to seeing Mingi beat the living shit out of Chan and then him lashing out on you — the clock struck somewhere between two and three in the morning, courtesy of a few short crying breaks in between. Glancing up at your friend who was still digesting the events, you felt lighter at the thought of having your very own sun sharing warmth and hope wherever she went.

“He likes you,” she eventually said, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You sniffled and wiped at your nose again, hands falling to play with the bedsheet.

“He doesn’t.”

“How do you know who I’m talking about?”

You thought you ran out of tears hours ago but were proven wrong as a new batch stung your eyes and eventually trickled down your sore cheeks. Dasom pulled you in another soul crushing hug and held the back of your head, nails gently massaging your scalp.

“Why are you crying, bean?”

Through tears and her thick cardigan you replied. “Because we aren’t talking about Hyunjin, are we? He’s the one we should be talking about.”

“But we aren’t and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

It felt wrong crying over someone who held no significance in your life just a few months ago. The same guy who riled you up like it was his daily dose of sunshine and who set it as his life mission to have you curse him out. The guy who called you stupidly cute nicknames and walked you home at night, offering up his jacket to keep you warm and safe from colds. The guy who didn't turn up to your competition and then lived in your head like an annoying song playing on repeat refusing to disappear. The same guy who shook you to your core with his angry words and fiery gaze.

“Why am I like this?”

“Like what?”

Dasom wasn’t foolish. She knew what you were going through and could only hope you’d come to terms with the unknown feelings rather than to be the one revealing the reason behind your heartbreak.

“Drawn to a guy who’s mean and an asshole when I have the perfect one right there, waiting and catering to my every need.”

“I know I’m supposed to hate him for the things he’s said to you and I do, I really do bean…. so if you think I won’t at least glare him down in the hallways then I’m revoking your position as my best friend… But I’m going to be completely honest with you, bean because that’s what you deserve. I think something else must have triggered him to lash out, it couldn’t just have been because you were simply sitting beside Hyunjin.”

She gently played with your hair as the words sank in.

“He really hurt me.”

“I know, bubs and I’m so sorry. Know that nothing excuses that behavior.”

“Then why do I still think of him even when he’s shit. Why won’t my brain let me be happy with Hyunjin?” You broke from the huge and fell back on the bed, hands gripping the sheets as if they held all the answers to your questions.

“Hyunjin is safe. We all like the safe and predictable, right?”

Your nod of agreement spurred her on.

“But Mingi, oh Mingi, is exciting. He drives you crazy, keeps you on your toes and throws you off course yet you can’t ever really get enough of him no matter how much it annoys you. I see it and I’ve been seeing it for months now and I promise this is the most objective version of me speaking right now.”

“But I like Hyunjin,” you whined, refusing to accept your own feelings.

“And you like me and Kyo too,” Dasom whispered softly, like a breeze passing through a field. “But we don’t fall in Mingi’s category.”

The days leading up to the holidays were spent within the four walls of your room waiting for the time to pass until you’d take your suitcase and haul ass across the country, definitely not because you were afraid to stumble across the very person you were avoiding. After the not so pleasant discovery you didn’t know what to make of yourself or your feelings. You couldn’t just phone him and proclaim your undying love because last time you checked, he explicitly made it clear he wanted nothing to do with you. You from a few months ago would throw a party big enough to think it was for a quinceañera or a sweet sixteen celebration with this information, but the present-you acted like Bella Swan during the disappearance of Edward Cullen just a tad bit less depressing.

Dasom was the first to leave. Her parents surprised her with a vacation to Jeju-island and her flight left the first morning of winter break. Keeho was still in the city but with college out of the way, he took on more working hours than usual. His immediate family lived in Canada and the plane ticket would be more expensive than the salary he’d get over the next two weeks. With your two friends unavailable you passed time thinking about the one who shall not be named and realized how unfortunate the whole situation was. You also realized you probably wouldn’t act upon your feelings as you didn’t with Hyunjin and would just let them flow until evaporating into thin air.

Speaking of Hyunjin, you and him still texted back and forth albeit the conversations were slow and not nearly as exciting as you once found them to be. Your sudden disappearance at the hockey game was covered with a quick lie of ‘not feeling well’, which he immediately believed because, why wouldn’t he? Christmas wasn't anything special. It started with an early message of Hyunjin wishing you a Merry Christmas attached with a selfie of him in a Santa hat and fake beard, and the rest of the day was spent inside with your family watching movies and drinking hot cocoa.

The new year was welcomed on the couch where a bump would sooner or later be formed and that alone was enough to explain the excitement level in the household. You all went to sleep a little after midnight and as you laid in your childhood bedroom, feet almost sticking out of the small bed, you mindlessly scrolled down the explore section of Instagram. A pang of sadness struck you at the picture staring back at you through the screen. It was a post of Mingi and his friend — the golden retriever looking one — posing on a snowy mountain both clad in skiing gear. The taller of the two had an arm slung over Mingi’s shoulder who, in return, sported a boyish grin and held up a peace sign. The split lip had healed perfectly and the only indicator of him being in a fight was the slight plum colored mark under his eye (courtesy of a nice punch delivered to his nose). At least someone was happy with you out of their lives.

Angry, sad and just tired, you exited the app and shoved your phone under the pillow drowning out your scream. You didn’t even know why his post landed on your feed. Wasn’t the explore page supposed to show videos of millennials doing cringy trends and not the most recent activity of the dude that shit all over you.

This continued on for days. While you were decomposing in your room he was updating his Instagram account as if a celebrity. Pictures and videos of him clubbing until the early hours of the morning, pretty girls and tables full of alcohol captured in short stories and then a complete 180; sharing clips of him flying down snowy mountains, doing stunts and whatnot.

If he was so upset with you, why were you the one wasting days self wallowing? It wasn’t like you could party away the worry. Your hometown was the size of a nut meaning A) you knew everyone and their mother, and B) every person in a ten mile radius was well-over the age of forty and the closest thing that came as a party would be the retirement home down the street. Then again, playing bingo with the grannies was better than binge watching gut-wrenching dramas. At least you’d be clearing your ‘to watch-list’.

The weeks passed in a blur and, before you knew it, you were back in the comfort of your apartment with two days to spare until classes started rolling again. Dasom would be home the day after and Keeho was either passed out in his apartment or working his second shift of the day, leaving you to unpack the chaos sealed inside your suitcase. Swirls of snow beat violently against the windows, turning the outside world into a winter wonderland. The heavy weather picked up on your journey home and as you traveled halfway back to Seoul, the ground was slowly being covered in white flakes. You only got so far with your unpacking when a series of knocks rattled against the front door.

“What’s uuuuup?!” Keeho screeched as you opened the door and an equally excited Dasom rolled in with her red large suitcase.

“What are you doing here?!”

They pulled you into a hug. Keeho’s loudness and Dasom’s giggles warmed up the place in no time and you immediately felt better.

“Surprise!”

“I hate you guys!” You exclaimed and squeezed their waists, head resting on Keeho’s shoulder with Dasom’s nose buried against your chest.

“Don’t lie, we know you love us. Now let’s get this bitch started!”

Scurrying to the kitchen Keeho brought back three animated cups; one with Naruto, Totoro and–

“You’re not drinking beer from the cup plastered with a picture of my dead cat!”

“Of course not, that one’s yours. Mine’s the Naruto one and Dasom gets Totoro, for obvious reasons.”

Said girl skipped quickly to the pantry and pulled out multiple bags of snacks. The huge smile on her face got you all curious.

“What’s got you all happy?”

“Nothing, I've just missed you guys! Jeju was fun but it would’ve been better with you there,” she pouted and poured the snacks into separate bowls.

“Pfft, don’t listen to her. She’s been texting that Cruella de Vil boy all winter break.”

Her smile grew and grew until it was a full blown grin and you squealed in delight, genuinely happy for your friend despite the green monster gnawing at the back of your head.

“Tell me everything, c’mon!”

“Ah, ah, ah!” The fun and what would be the start of a girls’ night was interrupted by Keeho. “I should be the one asking you that, little miss I’m in love with my greatest enemy.”

Gasping, you turned to Dasom. “You told him?!”

“So it’s true?!”

He leaned towards you and nearly snickered as your hands covered your mouth — if it weren’t for the serious circumstance — and stared at him with wide eyes. You walked right into his trap and as you told him everything that happened — the good and the bad — Dasom threw her hand out, palm facing upward..

“Pay up, pretty boy!”

“They aren’t even together!”

Dasom, a feral little chihuahua, jumped on him and a wrestling match took place in the middle of the living room. You couldn’t find it in you to be mad or upset. Leaning back against your arms, you watched them with a smile tugging at your lips. This is what you missed back in your childhood home. As much as you loved your family, the one you built in the heart of Seoul was very dear to you.

The ding of your phone snapped you out of your love-struck daze.

Hyunjin [07:16 PM] you back home yet?

You [07:16 PM] yeah, arrived a few hours ago

Hyunjin [07:16 PM] im glad

Hyunjin [07:16 PM] how was it?

You [07:17 PM] Good to see the family again but God did I miss my bed

You [07:17 PM] What were you up to?

Hyunjin [07:17 PM] yeah no kiddin ik exactly what u mean

Hyunjin [07:17 PM] Nothing much, did a lot of practice on the choreo w Iseul

You [07:17 PM] Ohhhh how’s that coming along?

Hyunjin [07:17 PM] it’s good but nowhere near perfect

You scoffed at the reply.

You [07:17 PM] I’m sure you’ll get it down in no time

Keeho harshly grabbed your shoulders, peering down at the screen but not comprehending any of the words.

“And who are you texting?”

“Hyunjin.”

“Hyunjin!” Dasom sang, already tipsy from the soju she downed while you were busy typing away.

“And what does Mr. Popular want?"

Hyunjin [07:19 PM] wanna help me practice?

Author's note pt.2: There's one thing I'd like to say regarding this chapter. When it comes to significant others, situation ships, partners, etc do not ever let anyone speak to you in a condescending matter. It doesn't matter how upset they are or what you've done for them to explode, you should never, and I really mean NEVER let anyone talk down to you. The only reason I didn't make MC obliterate Mingi is for the sake of the story, otherwise I'd have her drag him along the streets of Seoul like a dog, lmao. Anyway, if anyone speaks to you like Mingi did to MC in their fighting scene, please either leave/break up or put them in their place. You deserve to be treated with respect and love as much as anyone else.

#song mingi x reader #song mingi #song mingi fanfic #song mingi imagine #song mingi angst #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez angst #hockey au #figure skating au #hockey #figure skating #kpop x reader #kpop #angst #mingi x reader #mingi x you #ateez x reader

124 notes · View notes

cheralith · 2 years ago

Text

if the shoe fits — 「 prince!vash x reader x prince!nai 」

content warnings ; gn!reader, they/them pronouns, reader wears a ball gown and mentions of makeup, mild violence, mention of a tri98 character, not much romance but more so tension from nai tbh whoops

contains ; royalty!au, cinderella-esque!au, gardener!reader, friends to lovers (?) (vash), enemies to lovers (?) (nai)

notes ; i can't stress enough how well rachmaninoff's symphony no. 2 in e minor: adagio, followed by largo suits this so much, please take a listen as you go!

The names of Nai and Vash Saverem of JuLai were no strangers to the townsfolk of their kingdom. Firstborn twins and only children to the late queen Rem Saverem, the two were notorious for sticking by each other’s side almost on the daily, but also for their contrasting personalities. In front of the people, Prince Nai is distant, only preferring to stare straight ahead when in an open carriage and seemingly ignoring his townsfolk. His lips would subtly purse at the sight of the crowd before drawing a breath and crossing his arms over his chest. He says that it’s the best way to make an impression on the townsfolk—their future king cannot be bothered with sillier antics, unlike a specific someone.

Prince!Vash cannot be any more different from his brother, who is to be crowned with the regal title of “king” when he is of age. He’s much more connected with the townsfolk, often waving excitedly to them while in the carriage and taking any gifts that are handed to him with a large smile on his face, cherishing and archiving them in his bedroom. The ladies love him, their babies too, and he loves them back. A natural charmer—he’s managed to easily win the popularity contest amongst him and Nai, since he prefers to frolic out of the castle without suspicion to spend time with his people.

Prince!Nai busies himself more with work-related matters, ruling the palace with an iron fist. Make one move out of line and your fate is already decided by him before you can even beg on your knees. It’s not to say he’s completely authoritarian, however, since if he could rule the way that he truly wanted to, the townsfolk would despise him and would demand his younger brother to usurp him, despite the fact that the younger twin has no interest in royal politics.

Prince!Vash brings joy and light to the palace, he makes the place much more lively. He prefers to dine in the boisterous servants’ quarters rather than with his brother and other boring royal officials in the quieter dining hall, enjoying their stories about what life was like in the village or their stories about his late mother. They often say he reminds them of her—the fondness in his eyes, his soft and playful voice, and his pacifistic, loving demeanor. It’s also there that they freely complain about his brother without fear, to which Vash can only laugh and excuse Nai to the best of his abilities.

Prince!Nai knows his place in the world. He belongs to the higher pedestal, like a true future king should be. White gold and royal blue adorn most of his clothing, signifying his importance and regal nature. He knows his place in the world—he just wishes that everyone else does, too.

Prince!Vash forgets he’s a prince half the time, just like how he “forgets” to wear his crown (he just merely doesn’t like the feeling of superiority it entitles to him, but he guises it under the complaint of it being too heavy). He’s intrigued more by the culture of his kingdom and what a “normal” person would do rather than the gleam and glory offered by his palace.

On an early Saturday afternoon, Prince!Nai frowns at the sight of his brother talking amongst a particular someone when he passes by the gardens with his royal court following behind him while they continue mumbling about incessant political meetings with other kingdoms. He can recognize those dirtied gardening boots and soiled apron that sit a little too close to Vash’s thigh for his liking anywhere, and his frown deepens when he watches as an amateur royal gardener hands the younger prince a red flower with its petals all bustled together, clicking his tongue when dirt-stained hands touches the pure white of Vash’s glove.

Prince!Vash is awe-stricken by the flower you hand to him, carefully twirling it around with his fingers. It was his mother’s favorite flower, according to the other gardeners. You give him a toothy smile and say he came to the garden at the right time—geranium season has just bloomed and the garden sprinkled with their beauty all over this spring in honor of the late queen.

“I hear your mother was a lot like you,” you murmur quietly, watching as the prince pets the petals tenderly when you change into your spare, cleaner shoes. “Do you have memories of what she was like?”

He looks at you with a glimmer of longing flashing through his cerulean eyes. You’re about to apologize for your hastiness when you see his lips thin momentarily before he gently smiles and leans back into the seat of the gazebo that protects you and him from the afternoon sun.

“Gentle,” is what slips past his lips, “is what I remember best. Kind and wise, too. She used to always tell me that there’s beauty everywhere, even in the harshest of places. All it really takes is for one to just simply,” he reaches over to you and gently nestles the flower neatly in between your hair and ear, not noticing you stiffen at his touch despite him looking at you straight in the eyes. “... look a little closer.”

Prince!Nai can only huff at the shared touch between a lowly gardener and the other branch of his royal blood before briefly excusing himself from the royal counsel to escort himself to the gardens, not wanting his brother to be in such close radius of you any longer. He calls out his name sternly, making you and him flinch at the sound of his voice. His nerves relax themselves when Vash pulls away from you, but his jaw clenches slightly when he sees a speck of dust on the fingertip of his glove that Vash scratches his cheek with, embarrassed.

“You should be getting ready for tonight’s ball,” Nai states flatly, not even acknowledging your existence when you bow and greet him. “There is much preparation to do.” His eyes fleet towards you, where you stand still, your head still bowed to show your respects to his majesty. “I expect the flowers for the ballroom to be set up by early evening,” is all he says to you before trotting away with his head held up high.

Prince!Vash makes sure that his brother is out of sights before he sighs and urges you to lift your head up. Apologizing for his brother’s rudeness, he can only sigh at the fact that he couldn’t sneak out of the palace tonight like he usually does, making you laugh when he pouts at the thought of entertaining boring old nobles and lords.

“I wish I could say that,” you mention as you smooth your pants out. “Balls seem like fun—dancing around in pretty clothing and eating all those tasty desserts the chefs make.”

Vash snorts. “Sure, they’re fun if you like talking awkwardly with people twice your age and having people step on your feet after not being able to sit down for almost three hours.”

“But still!” you exclaim. “Just the thought of being in a ballroom and being with everyone enjoying themselves would be such a delightful sight.”

As you sigh dreamily about your fantasies, Prince Vash can only stare at you incredulously, marveled at the two different worlds that sit side by side so close under a gazebo. He wonders if you fantasize about royal life a lot, wondering if you think like him but with his fantasies about being a commonfolk and not worrying about the societal pressures of living up to his brother. He finds it so fascinating that such two different people from two different worlds can be together under a single roof, bonding over miniscule things like flowers. It’s what he finds so amazing about human nature the most—the skill of connection.

He looks at you from the corner of his eye as you gaze longingly into the garden when all of a sudden, an idea pops into his head.

Prince!Nai carefully watches with contempt as you and the younger prince talk amongst each other from his office window that sits a few stories above the garden, sneering when Vash holds both of your speckled hands suddenly and nods excitedly, the sparkle in his eyes evident even from a hefty height. His eyes narrow in suspicion when you shake your head to his unknown words; your brows furrow in nervousness before Vash caresses the top of your hands with his thumbs, making Nai’s icy blue gaze harden.

Prince!Vash is about to beg on his knees at this point.

“You must come! You’d enjoy it, I promise,” Vash pleads as he grips your hands tighter. “I’ll be by your side the entire time, so you won’t feel too anxious.”

“Your majesty—” you attempt.

He pouts. “Please don’t call me that,” he says with a soft frown, not enjoying the sudden formality.

“—it would not be wise for a menial gardener such as I to attend such a regal event,” you whisper, your eyes darting over the place to avoid any eavesdroppers. The palace does enjoy its part-time gossip, after all. “I am not suited for it.”

“But I am inviting you!” he exclaims. “You would be coming on my behalf. I’m allowed to do that, I swear!”

Your lips purse in anxiousness, a thick swallow trailing down your dry throat. “It would not be deemed appropriate… and what if his majesty found out about one of his staff attending a royal ball and not tending to it?”

“Then that would be my problem to handle,” Prince Vash retorts. “Please come. It’d make me eternally happy.”

“I…” your words fail you, and you do consider giving in for a brief moment just to get the prince off your tail before your eyes deepen with disappointment one more time. “I’m sorry, my prince, but I must refuse your offer.”

Prince!Nai cocks a brow when he sees his younger brother’s smile disappear and morph into a saddened frown at your words that he can’t seem to articulate from the window above. He watches a little too intently when Vash heaves a great big sigh and finally stands up, his eyes rolling when he offers you his hand. Assuming that the conversation between a gardener and blue blooded prince is finally over, he moves his eyes to his royal secretary.

“Must this be a ball with the intention of finding me a spouse…?” Nai huffs, settling himself in his chair. “I can rule a kingdom perfectly fine without the nuisance of a marriage.”

Legato can only shake his head at his superior’s words. “Tradition goes as follows, your majesty. Your coronation cannot take place without a spouse by your side. At least you are able to choose them—your mother was not granted that option.”

The future king of JuLai knows that, and he also knows that he should be more grateful to what he is given. But he has always been alone and prefers to keep it that way, his younger counterpart being the only exception. Yes, his mother may have married to a more irrelevant royal, but after his death, she was able to rule JuLai properly by herself, so why couldn’t he? Nai only shakes his head before staring at the royal orb and scepter that sit in their glass box on the dresser, a reminder that he keeps close to remind him of his goals and his duties. He can feel the ghost of their coldness on his palms from practicing so much in the mirror. His hands twitch.

“Your outfit for the ball is in your quarter’s, my prince,” Legato says before excusing himself to make sure the preparations for the ball are in place.

Nai can only sigh in disappointment when he watches the doors of his office close before standing up again to face the window. His eyes graze around the garden again before sharply landing on the gazebo again, where nothing but soil-ridden boots stand under it

Prince!Vash looks into your eyes, where disappointment hides under a curtain of uncertainty. He sighs, releasing your hands from his grasp. He supposes that it does seem a little too risky to sneak in a commonfolk into the royal ballroom, and he wouldn’t want you to face any punishments if you were caught.

“Thank you for the invitation, though,” you retort. “I truly do admire your enthusiasm.”

“If I was able to invite the entire kingdom, I would,” the prince sighs, biting the inside of his cheek. “I’m sure everyone would enjoy it, especially the children.”

You smile softly at his words; he was always a man of the people and it never fails to show even during more private moments. “I have no doubt about that. Perhaps in another lifetime, when you are king, you’ll be able to do that.”

A haughty laugh escapes his lips. “If I am able to do that without being a king or leader of sorts, that’d be better. Honestly, if I’m able to just one day escape this life in general—I’d be satisfied.”

You shrug casually. “What’s stopping you? You could always just escape and go live under a fake name, I wouldn’t tell a soul.”

Prince Vash pauses suddenly. He snaps his head to look at you with a sudden idea lingering in his head at the mention of a fake name. Glassy eyes go to scan your figure up and down and slowly, an almost mischievous grin starts to etch onto his face.

“Fake name, huh?” he raises his eyebrows at your confused countenance. You exclaim out of surprise when he suddenly tugs you away from the gazebo and back into the castle. “I have an idea.”

The evening sun is beginning to rest its rays. Prince!Nai watches from the leveled floor as the guests begin to flock in numbers into the ballroom, occasionally bowing to greet those who greet him. Legato stays by his side closely, making sure no one would get too comfortable to the royal host, his eyes darting to eye any suspicious characters.

“Is there anyone that you find… interesting so far, your majesty?” Legato murmurs. Nai finds his attempt at loose matchmaking poor.

"Do not ask such foolish questions,” Nai scoffs quietly as he bows to a curtsied countess that bats her lashes at him. “Where is Vash? He should’ve been down by now.”

Prince!Vash waits outside an almost-never used dressing room, wincing occasionally as he hears you yelp from the pain of having your hair tugged in a certain direction or cough from the amount of powder dabbed onto your face. His plan was sure to work; have you be disguised under a fake name with a fake title from a fake kingdom and merely just have you accompany him the entire night under the impression that you and him fancied each other when in reality,it’d just be you helping him get through the night to avoid talking to other political figures and most importantly—let you have fun.

“Are they almost ready?” Vash asks the head seamstress that runs in and out of the corridor. He pulls out his inherited pocket watch from his mother, its hands ticking a little too fast for his liking. “I’d hate for us to be late.”

“Nearly, your majesty,” she replies, ribbon between her teeth as she shuffles back into the room. “Give us another moment—they do not seem to have a tolerance for a makeover, I’m afraid.”

He gives out an amused laugh when he hears you hiss through your teeth as your hair gets pulled back. “P-please be more gentle…” he hears you mumble.

“Work your magic however, Meryl,” Vash grins and says with a wink, “I’ll give you and your team double the pay if you manage to make my jaw drop.”

Prince!Nai anxiously taps his foot, his eyes flickering back and forth between the growing crowd of nobles and the large clock that screams Vash is quite late. The guests themselves have asked a number of times where the younger Saverem is, his presence already ghosting around the ballroom.

“Legato,” Nai calls. “Take Livio and Monev to search for Vash. I cannot have his tardiness stain our reputation like this,” he stresses.

“Prince!Vash!” Milly, a handmaiden, calls out worriedly. Distress floods her entire being, causing her to trip on the rug and fall towards him. His reflexes do not fail him (he can thank all the swordsmanship training for that one) and manages to break her fall with his arms. “Prince Vash! They’re looking for you! Prince Nai’s bodyguards are asking about your whereabouts—!”

Vash curses under his breath, knowing that your transformation wasn’t complete yet. “Meryl, how many more minutes do you need?” he calls aloud to the head seamstress, only for his face to pale when he receives a reply of a plentiful fifteen more minutes at minimum from the closed door. He turns back to the handmaiden, urging her to, “Tell them I’ll be down there shortly, and that I was just um… occupied in the bathroom!” he laughs unconvincingly before urging her to leave the corridor and forward the message.

He knocks on the door. “(Y/N)?”

“Yes?”

His heart lightens at the sound of your voice coming from all the commotion. “I, uh…”

He wanted a chance to at least look at you to see if you were properly fitted for the part before the ball. “I unfortunately have to go down to meet my brother, so I won’t be able to escort you like I promised… but I’ll meet you down there once you’re down!”

There’s a brief pause before you ask, “You’re not coming with me?”

He swears the mild disappointment in your voice is enough to break him whole. “I can’t, I’m so sorry. But both Milly and Meryl know what to do, I’m putting them in your care!”

Vash begins to dart out of the corridor before he pauses and quickly walks back up to Milly, and in a hushed tone, reminds her, “And please… do not forget about my gift to them.”

Prince!Nai hears his name being called aloud from the right side of the ballroom. His silver eyes meet deeper azure ones in sweet relief, before becoming unamused again at the sight of his brother’s hair all tousled, his sash not properly seated across his chest, and his crown sat improperly atop his head.

“Where were you?” Nai mutters to him before fixing the brooch on Vash’s collar. “Everyone was asking about your whereabouts?”

“Ouch!” Vash exclaims when Nai tightens his collar. “On the toilet. I think I had too much to eat for lunch, haha.”

Nai only looks at him with mild disgust. “No matter,” he waves off. “The fact is that you’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

Nai’s next few minutes are filled with him commemorating the ball to the currently present guests, thanking them for taking time out of their schedules to celebrate such a festivity with him and letting him host such a regal event. He etches on a fake smile to the people below him, making it subtly known of his position above them on the leveled flooring by refusing to greet them from down below and making them come to his feet.

The last few guests are still flocking in by the time the first couple of dances start, and Nai can’t help but eye Vash’s fidgeting and consistent scanning of the ballroom floor. He watches as Vash’s eyes go to dart at the clock while bouncing on his heels—biting his lip in what seems to be a foreign anticipation of sorts. Nai is about the question if he was alright, seeing as how nervousness was an extremely rare face that his brother would put on until when Vash’s eyes return to the dance floor. They no longer bounce about the crowd but instead, fixate on a specific sight that makes his jaw drop slightly. But when Nai attempts to share the same sight, Vash beelines down to the dance floor, Nai’s shouts of his name falling deaf to his ears.

He hesitates to follow him, but his foot stops in place and almost enables him to move. Before becoming paralyzed at the sound of his name being called by one of the royal advisors. Nai snaps at him to leave him be, glaring at the man and making the advisor stiffen and scurry away, but when he returns his eyes back to the dance floor, Nai almost loses sight of his twin just before he spots him weaving through the dancers thanks to his bold red suit.

“Vash!” His eyes follow him until Vash slows towards something—no, someone that Nai can’t see thanks to his brother’s broad build. He grits his teeth, almost losing his composure at his brother’s hyperactiveness.

His tension suddenly seems to ease itself when Vash finally moves out of view to reveal what had gotten him so worked up.

Prince!Vash looks at you breathlessly, eyes wide and an open-lipped smile gazing down upon you as you stare up at him.

“You look…” he scans your complete appearance ever so carefully, savoring every detail.

The flecks of the lights given by the chandelier embellish you in a soft spotlight. Adorned in a shimmering, celeste blue ball gown bespeckled with diamonds that had made everyone around gaze at you in wonder, Vash bit his lip—the color suited you a little too well for his liking. Elbow-length silk gloves snaked their away around arms that were usually shielded with soil-stained gardening gloves, and instead of a wide-brimmed sun hat like you usually wore that hid your face and hair from view, your hair was neatly done and atop your head settled not a sun hat, but a jeweled tiara with matching earrings and a choker that opened up your painted face.

Normally, you do not get a lot of eyes following during the daytime when you’re in your usual outerwear. But Vash can’t help but feel weary when he sees people eye you with curiosity and admiration in your current attire—some part of it wants to believe that it’s only because you’re talking with him, but all their attention is on you, like his own.

When Vash doesn’t finish his sentence, you worriedly fidget with the itchy material. “Do… Do I look weird?” you inquire with no self-security in your voice. “Is it too flashy—”

“No!” Vash shouts a little too loudly, gaining a couple of stares and raised eyebrows around him. “You look…” he swallows thickly, attempting to find better words to describe your appearance, but all that weakly chokes out is, “beautiful. Incredibly beautiful.”

A heat rushes to your face before you softly smile. “Thank you. You look just as dashing tonight, my prince. Oh and uh,” you lift the skirt of your ball gown up slightly, just enough to reveal the beauty of a pair of iridescent, sapphire-dusted glass slippers that sparkle just like the crystals in the chandelier above the ballroom. “Thank you for the gift. Your goodwill is valued greatly.”

He can’t help the bashful smile that creeps onto his lips; it feels like he was just complimented by a divinity themselves. “I-I hope it’s to your liking, and I tried my best to guess your shoe size. Are they too tight? Too large? I can quickly ask for a replacement pair if—”

You hold your gloved hand up to pause his rambling, lips curling into a soft smile. “They’re the perfect fit, my prince.”

Relief floods Vash, and he lets out a dramatic breath that makes you laugh from his antics. The young prince then reaches his hand out towards you, moving aside to let you take a better look at what you desired most—the elegance of a ballroom floor.

“Well then, shall we dance?”

Prince!Nai breathes in sharply as he sees a stranger take his brother’s hand—so sharply it stings his nose, not enjoying how the stranger touches Vash so unbelievably casually. It doesn’t help his case when he doesn’t recognize who the stranger was in the snowy blue ball gown despite him knowing nearly every single person in the ballroom. He first wonders why Vash knows them, then he second guesses himself and asks why they know Vash seeing as how the conversation between the two was friendly—a little too friendly.

He’s brushed with a sense of familiarity, almost. The air feels thinner.

He stares at the two as Vash helps them onto the dance floor, where the stranger seems to already be stumbling over their own two feet. Nai can recognize a face of worry anywhere, and it’s currently plastered on their visage—pursed lips, wide eyes, he’s seen every form of it from the palace’s workers when he’s around.

Another conversation busies itself between them and Vash… and it almost looks like he’s giving the stranger instructions on how to waltz properly. From the looks of it, the stranger seems to be some sort of a viscount or baron, judging from how particularly young they were… but what sort of noble doesn’t know the basics of a waltz? Nai’s brows furrow, his ears drowning out everyone else who tries to receive him in concentration between the two particular individuals on the dance floor.

“Legato,” he chants, his eyes not leaving the two when the stranger accidentally seems to step on Vash’s foot, making them both exclaim in surprise, a short burst of laughter between the two quickly following. “Who is that dancing with Vash? The one in blue.”

“Hm?” his royal secretary looks up from his clipboard and squints at the stranger stiffly dancing. He squints. “I’m not… too sure, your majesty… I don’t think I can recall them on the invitation list.”

“Perhaps a trespasser?” Nai mutters to himself, poorly attempting to hide his horror. It was not uncommon for those not under noble titles to attempt to sneak into festivities they were not allowed into, though they had never made it particularly far. How dare a lowlife commoner sneak onto royal property and seduce his brother?! What sort of things or favors could the stranger possibly want from the royal prince? The thought of his more naive sibling being taken advantage of by a mere villager makes Nai’s blood boil hastily. “Bring them to me at once.”

Prince!Vash looks at you with a partiality embedded into his eyes, watching as your own fleet over the beauty and articulation of the ballroom’s interior and marveling at the people decorated in fancy clothing. Joy is plastered all over your face, even though you’d never admit it.

“How do you take the ball so far?” Vash asks quietly as he gently picks you up on a strengthened beat, settling you down easily. He can hear the clink of your glass slippers being set on the dance floor softly, like two champagne flutes toasting together.

“It’s all I ever could’ve dreamed about,” you sigh happily. “Thank you again, I truly do appreciate it.”

“I thought I could use the company,” he laughs, “I haven’t run into any weird marquesses or dukes yet, so keep at—” Vash’s smile suddenly falls flat onto the floor at the sight of a familiar bluenette approaching your and his way, a sternness that replicates his elder brother’s on the royal secretary’s face. A nervous bob of his throat attempts to hide itself under his ascot. He can’t let his nerves get to him or you.

“Legato.”

“My prince,” Legato greets flatly, giving a poor bow that would be completely unacceptable under Nai’s eyes, “Your majesty requests you and your…” Legato’s narrow eyes trace your figure, his brow raising when you look away instead of greeting him. “... accompaniment at once. He would like to meet them properly.”

Vash’s spine freezes, and he can feel you stiffen as you grip his gloved hand a little tighter. “O-of course, we’ll be there in just a mo—.”

“He requests your presence, now.”

He and you can only anxiously follow Legato’s figure in the crowd, a worried glance from you meets his half-secured one, silently telling you, “Rest assured,”

Prince!Nai watches under stone-cold eyes as the mysterious stranger, Vash, and Legato come before him, all three of them bowing in respect to the future king.

“Vash,” Nai declares, making his younger brother look up, “Would you care to introduce me to… your companion?” he asks, not even attempting to acknowledge the stranger that stands idly beside him.

There’s a pregnant pause that skims through the thickened air between the three of them before Vash exclaims out in surprise and nods his head rapidly, a large smile (yet somehow doesn’t reach his eyes) plastered on his lips. “A-ah! Yes, of course!” Vash gestures to the person beside him.

Prince!Vash steps aside to introduce you properly, signaling to you that he will do most of the talking for you, giving Nai your given fake name. “They’re the child of a noble from the high court of the kingdom of Marche, and they’re coming on their father’s behalf since he has fallen ill.”

You curtsy to him out of respect, trying your absolute best to avoid the future king’s cold gaze looking down upon you. “It is such an honor to be invited to such a prestigious event, your majesty.”

Prince!Nai doesn’t reply to you, only letting out a soft grunt of semi-acknowledgement. His stare doesn’t break from you, though, still halfway convinced that you were who you said you were.

“Marche…” Nai mutters and tucks his chin in between his fingers. “Where is that on the map? I don’t recall such a kingdom.”

“It’s a rather small domain!” Vash exclaims hastily. “It’s up towards the northern hemisphere, so it’s almost entirely covered in snow—! All the way up to one’s knees!”

Nai’s eyes narrow. “And how exactly do you know that?”

Prince!Vash’s mouth suddenly pools with regret at what he said. Words get caught up in his throat and his mouth hangs open like a fish.

“Prince Vash was so kind enough to send food and supplies to our kingdom after we were hit with a sudden blizzard,” you interrupt. “Our kingdom thanks him charitably for such generosity.”

The older Saverem turns to look at Vash with a hardened look on his face. “When was this? Why was I not made aware of it?”

“You were too busy with leveling out the war between Augusta and Mei-City during the time,” Vash continues, “I didn’t want to make things worse since you were so stressed, so I decided to take matters into my own hands with Marche.”

Prince!Nai’s irritation seems to grow more and more with the passing seconds that he’s in close proximity with you. He finally takes a step down from the pedestal that sits viewing the ballroom and lifts your chin up with his gloved hand—examining your features. Something about you seems too… retrospective.

Nai thinks it’s too loose of a term.

His face scans your weary eyes, your painted, warbling lips, the slope of your nose, the crease of your eyes… he can’t quite place his finger on it, but your face doesn’t only look familiar, but feels familiar, as well, as if the shape and angles of it mimic someone else. It frustrates him that he just doesn’t know who. All he knows is that you are not worthy of the tiara placed atop your head because it looks too strange… too foreign on you.

“You remind me of someone,” he murmurs as he changes the angles of your face with his hand whilst brushing your bottom lip with his thumb. “Someone I know. Someone I’ve seen before.” His voice goes criminally soft, so quiet that only you’re able to detect the poison in his voice that stings you with disarray.

You step back a little too rashly. “I have… rather the common face, your majesty,” you excuse with a tight throat.

“I see.” The future king continues to study your features for a few more seconds before almost thrusting your face away from him—you draw a breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding as you attempt to regain your balance. Returning his attention to Vash, he merely states, “I’d hate to spoil your fun for tonight, brother. I hope that you and… your company… enjoy yourselves,” before brisking off stiffly somewhere else, most likely somewhere he can quietly watch you two with watchful eyes.

Prince!Vash notices your shaken-up disposition and places a hand on the small of your back to let yourself breathe properly when you and him head back to the floor. “Are you okay?”

You nod, but your eyes warble with a curtain of glass over them. Vash thins his lips and briefly apologizes again, per usual, for his brother’s antics, attempting to ease you with excuses of how he’s always like that towards people he didn’t know and he’s just too overprotective of him.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have come,” you choke out, pacing a bit forward. “I should probably leave before he really confirms something—”

“No! Don’t!” Vash abruptly grabs your hand and forcefully turns you around to face him before you can escort yourself out the ballroom you had been in for less than half an hour. He had done too much effort for you to be here, it’d be too much of a waste of time (and money!) if you left so early.

Your eyes widen at his rashness, blinking owlishly.

“I-I mean… there’s still a lot of time left… and I could really, reallyyy use the company,” Vash pleads and grips your hand a little tighter while he waltzes you onto the ballroom with him. “I promise I won’t let him near you without me,” he softly whispers before the large crescendo from the orchestra.

“Just follow my lead.”

Prince!Nai watches from the corner of his eye as he talks amongst different dukes and earls about the latest news regarding the seven kingdoms, not exactly picking up on their words like he usually does considering his mind was displaced somewhere else that needed his attention more desperately than political scandals.

He bounces about the ballroom, going from individual to individual in hopes to try and get a better glimpse of Vash and the seemingly uninvited guest from “Marche.” It wasn’t too difficult considering the blue gown you were wearing on the dance floor was eye-catching, but the other people in the crowd made it much too difficult to get an unblocked view of you. Vash doesn’t seem to be letting go of your side, either, unwilling to move more than a couple of meters away from you even as he talks amongst others.

“Livio, what do you know of a kingdom by the name of ‘Marche?’” Nai asks his bodyguard.

The half-masked man turns to him, confused. “I have never heard of such a nation, my prince.”

Nai is half-convinced. Livio had never been all the best at book smarts, let alone geography, so he turns to the embodiment of his second brain, asking the same question. Legato chuckles darkly, clutching something behind him. “I checked the historical archives a few minutes ago, and you would be quite intrigued as to what I had found, your highness.”

Legato shows him a torn-out, faded map of the seven cities, subcities still etched onto it…

… minus the addition of a particular northern region.

“There is no such nation under the title of ‘Marche’, your highness,” Legato says, a smirk sneaking onto his lips. “Your suspicions were right. That person besides Prince Vash… is a fraud.”

Prince!Vash happily dips you down just before the exuberant song played by the orchestra ends, making you yelp in surprise before laughing aloud with him at his sudden caper. He pulls you up again with ease and wipes the sweat of his brow. “Probably the best song they’ve played so far!”

“Indeed,” you sigh out as you fan yourself. You never expected a ballroom to become rather stuffy—or perhaps it was the constant dancing you had been doing for the past couple of hours that caused you to become so flushed. “I’m going to get some air outside before I pass out, is that okay?”

Vash, completely forgetting the vow he had made to you at the beginning, nods and tells you he’ll be close by to grab some refreshers and leaves you to your own accord. “Don’t take too long! The final dance is about to begin!”

A soft laugh escapes your lips, nodding before you whisk away to the chilled air of the garden. The night is young—you’ve never felt more alive than you did now. Perhaps you did make the right decision to tag along with the young prince this evening, since starting tomorrow, you would no longer be able to experience the joyous experience of tonight and would have to go back to tending to the garden that you walk about in. A statue honoring the late queen Rem sits in the center of it all, and it gazes upon you with a familiar gentleness. The moon is set high and it smiles down upon you as you breathe fresh air into your lungs again as you settle onto a stone bench that sits in front of the statue, watching as the nocturnal wildlife in the garden play and prance.

A rabbit peers at you from underneath a rose hedge curiously, mimicking your actions as you tilt your head at it. You fight the urge to let out a coo before you motion it towards you, you’ve always had somewhat of a knack with animals. It slowly reveals itself and prances toward you with its eyes mirroring the moonlight before it scurries away when a looming shadow approaches you from behind, obviously frightened.

“I take it you’re enjoying yourself quite well tonight,” Prince!Nai declares behind you.

Startled, you let out a soft cry of surprise before you turn around and face austere, glacial orbs that belong to the one and only future king of JuLai. Your heart pulses—already having a sneaking suspicion of why such a prestigious royal figure was isolated with you in the lone garden.

“Y-your highness,” you answer weakly, knees about to give out as you stand on weak legs. You aren’t sure whether the ache from your calves is because of all the dancing or because of the nerves.

“How is the ball?” Nai questions whilst he circles around you like a hawk around its prey. You can only stand so still as you look straight ahead, not daring to look into those eyes. “Is it to your liking? I hope the music fairs nicely, I picked it out myself.”

Clutching onto the fabric of your gown, you nod compliantly as you continue to avoid eye contact. “You have… great taste in music, my prince.”

“Why, thank you,” he replies, a confidence he exudes casually distinguished in his voice. “How is the food? The pastries are not too sweet?”

“Not at all, your highness…” Your nerves slowly begin to freeze over the more laps Nai does around you, caging you in an invisible rope as his eyes never leave your figure, the same eyes that were used to examine you much too closely.

“That’s good, that’s good,” he mumbles. “Tell me, what foods do you usually have in Marche? I have a particular sweet tooth, are there any desserts you’d recommend me if I were to… take a visit there?” he stops pacing and settles himself in front of you, his aura wading off nothing but dominance. “To just check up on how the state of it is, you know. That must’ve been a terrible blizzard, I’m sure.”

The inked sky hides your heated sweat, but doesn’t hide your chest rapidly going up and down and your breath betraying you. It falls too short. “There’s…” your words get mixed up, voice going soft. “There’s a cake th-that we eat annually during the celebration of the… the…”

Nai cocks a brow, tilting his head almost coyly to the side. “The…?”

“The… anniversary of the war against the neighboring kingdom we won a few decades ago,” you complete with little confidence.

“Oh?” Nai’s eyes narrow, a subtle smirk snaking on his lips. “Which kingdom?”

You can feel your voice begin to fail you. Eyes darting around for a familiar tuft of straw blonde hair and a dashing red suit, you don’t seem to spot anyone else in the garden except for you and the future king.“I… I can’t seem to recall, your highness, my apologies…”

He chuckles and comes to your aid all of a sudden and answers for you, instead. “I recall Augusta having conflict with a certain kingdom in my history books, perhaps it was them, then?”

A haughty laugh and nod sneaks their way past you without second thought. “Y-yes! Augusta—! I’m honored to say that we were able to triumph over them, despite a rather tough beating—”

“Liar.”

A thick pause goes through the garden before it’s broken by the sudden loud gong of the palace clock, alerting the stroke of midnight was upon you.

“P-pardon?” you hesitantly ask, turning your head up to the prince before your nerves completely freeze over and paralyze you in your spot at the sight of his ice cold eyes piercing straight into you.

Prince Nai slowly steps towards you, his sullen countenance never faltering. “Augusta… is located in the southwestern hemisphere, where there is nothing but dry land and deserts for iles. I do not think that such a land would be neighboring a kingdom where a blizzard devastated it.”

Your breath hitches. Vash is nowhere to be found, no matter how hard you look around you, and you are much too far away from the ballroom courtyard to see anyone else that can come to your rescue. Not even the animals of the night seemed to appease you with their presence, leaving you entirely to your own devices in the hands of the future king of one of the most powerful kingdoms on the planet.

“I—must’ve gotten my facts mixed up,” you choke out, feeling the air around you become thinner and thinner with each step Nai takes. “W-was it Augusta? Oh no… it was Dec—”

“December," he starts, his voice knowing. "was perished in an avalanche more than two centuries ago,” Nai interrupts, as he circles behind you. “Nothing, no one remains there except ruin,” he murmurs into your ear, his breath sending shrills up your spine.

His foot goes to step onto the fabric of your gown, making you fall over backwards and prey to his wrath. Your lip trembles as he looms over you with his broad build. You second-guess your thoughts from minutes earlier, the blood from your heart pumping into your ears all too loudly.

You should’ve never accepted Vash’s invitation.

You should’ve never put on those beautiful, gifted glass slippers.

You should’ve never given into temptation.

“So now, tell me why…” his voice drops to a poisonous whisper when he crouches beside you. “I also was not able to locate Marche on a recent map.”

His actions repeat from earlier, but this time, they have too much force and strength. Nai grabs your chin almost painfully and ignores your cries of pain when he squeezes your jaw between his hand, forcing you up on your feet to look up at him.

“Y-your highness—”

“You’re a fraud,” Nai declares venomously. “A fake, a trespasser, and a criminal who wants to squeeze every living cent out of my brother, yes? Tell me, you pest…” his grip on your jaw tightens so harshly, you’re frightened that your cheeks, now beginning to stain with pained tears, will bruise from his fingers and your attempt at prying his fingers off work to no avail. You’re frightened that your teeth will squeeze out of their cavings from the strength of his grip. “What did you want from Vash? Money? Jewels? Or did you wish to harm him in the work of another kingdom? Are you a spy? Answer me, snake.”

Your rapid shakes of your head do not convince Nai that you aren’t a threat at all, only making his hand that grips your jaw go to your throat. “I am none of th-those…”

“Liar!” Nai thunders, his voice booming throughout the garden as he draws his sword from his hip and places it aside your throat, the prick of the blade grazing your skin. Nai’s eyes wind with malice as your gaping ones that tangle with fear stare straight at him. “Tell me the truth or face a fate worse than death it—”

“Nai! Let go of them!”

Prince!Vash goes to sprint towards you from the entrance of the palace’s courtyard. Nai drops you out of shock and your fight or flight instincts finally begin to kick in when your nerves thaw from the shock.

You watch for another split, merciful second as Vash quickens in pace, but he’s still much too far to reach you in time. As you get up, your slippers barely supporting your weight, fatigue is beginning to kick in much too early. The muscles in your limbs ache and suddenly feel all too heavy for your liking, but with a final burst of strength given to you by an unknown will, you manage to get away from his grasp by shoving him. The strength shocks both you and him, however, and launches you straight backwards into the stone statue of the late queen. You can only watch in horror as it lands forward, shattering into little pebbles of cobblestone.

The impact of the statue of Rem Saverem knocks you down to your feet again, as well as Prince!Nai, and he uses your disposition to his advantage before you can start your getaway. His hand determinedly locks around the heel of your slipper as he hisses out, “You… are not going anywhere, trespasser.”

“Please—!” you cry out as you tug with all your strength from his grip, vision blurring from the tears that rim around your eyes. “I meant no harm!”

Another wave of strength fueled by adrenaline rushes through your body and through the fatigue, through the fear, through the horror of it all, you manage to slip your foot away from your slipper before finally sprinting away.

Prince!Nai begins to get up and chase after you until he’s tackled shockingly by Vash, forcing the two into a wrestling fight on the dirt. Nai shouts at him to let go and chase after the trespasser, with Vash retaliating with a firm decline and holding him down to the best of his abilities whilst taking in the kicks and punches and insults Nai forces upon him. Unwillingly, he blows a punch to Nai’s gut and Nai spits out a mixture of blood and saliva, doubling over on the garden floor that’s now littered with trashed petals of flowers and speckles of stone and marble because of two.

The head of Queen Rem Saverem’s eyes glisten up at them almost disappointingly in the moonlight.

Vash staggers up slowly, limping from the scratch marks his elder brother clawed into his leg. He glares at his brother through a black eye. “They said it themselves, they meant no harm!”

“Who were they, Vash?!” Nai cuts in, glaring up at him. “If they meant no harm… who were they?!”

Prince!Vash can only look at Nai almost pityingly as his chest rises and falls. If he were to admit who you truly were… he knew for a fact Nai would have you exiled from the kingdom… or worse, executed entirely. He couldn’t let that happen—even with his excuses that he was the one that dragged you into this mess. His brother’s bias towards him could never be swayed.

He licks his lips, his eyes glancing at your minimizing figure in the distance.

“I…”

“Your highnesses!”

Prince!Nai and Prince!Vash look behind them to see Livio, Monev, and Legato rushing toward the two, all three appalled at the scene in the now-ruined portion of the garden and the sight of two dirtied princes with dirt and blood soiling them.

They do not have time to ask what on earth had happened, as Nai has already devised a plan to capture and punish the trespasser accordingly. His eyes fleet over to the crystal slipper clenched firmly in his fist, tightening it in his grasp more at the sight of it as a reminder of his failure to properly protect his brother from the lowlife that call themselves commoners.

“Tomorrow…” he heaves with a steady breath, his eyes darkening as he stares at the slipper, “Get every single young person in the kingdom into the palace and force this upon their foot.

“This…” He raises up the glass slipper for all of them to see. “... shall help us catch our criminal and punish them accordingly.”

“Nai—” Vash pleads through a bleeding lip. “Don’t!”

“Once you do find who suits the slipper,” Nai continues, before turning to where you ran off. His eyes bleed into your disappearing figure venomously before he picks up his sword and throws it at Legato’s feet.

“Bring them to me at once. Alive. I want to see them beheaded with my own two eyes.”

(a/n): hi again! i recently just watched the 2015 live action version of cinderella, and my, was it gorgeous. as the main inspo for this piece, i hope that the cinderella aspects were clear enough in this with my own twists to the story, since that was my main aim. i may include another part to this, maybe even turning it into a miniseries as a whole for all the nai lovers out there (i did him dirty here, sorry!!) because i myself want to include something for him, but i'll see how this piece does first and if anyone would be interested in a part ii to this.

other than that, thank you for reading, and reblogs are always appreciated :] !!

923 notes · View notes