#me-- gritting my teeth: yes one thing about felix is that people routinely get the wrong impression of him
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
blujayonthewing · 3 months ago
Text
exposure therapy [giving my OC an attitude of resignation towards things that make me feel like turning myself inside out]
8 notes · View notes
jishyucks · 4 years ago
Text
Eight Count ‣ lmh
‣ genre: fluff, enemies-to-lovers, hogwarts!au, I think it's a slow burn
‣ wc: 10.8k
‣ summary: "There's honestly no way Minho would like me. And me of all people would know that." ; in which fate decides to be an ass and make you and Minho dance partners
‣ an: I'm sosososo sorry @ whoever requested this bc of how long it took. I didn't mean for it to be so long but it kept going and uni is to blame bc all of the work :(( but anyways enjoy !!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
i.
You feel the beat of your heart quicken as you maneuver through the maze of corridors that you had begun to approach. Time was ticking. The first classes of the day had already started about half an hour ago, and here you were, racing down the stone hallways, tardy and a bit dazed.
It had only been a mere five minutes since you had woken up in the dormitories in pure panic, the realization that everyone had left and you were still cuddled up against one of the pillows in your bed driving you to act quick. You could accuse your housemates of not even bothering to check if you were alive, but you soon decided to place the blame on your body's restlessness and inability to go to sleep when you wished. You wouldn't call it insomnia, but your sleeping patterns weren't normal either.
Approaching the dance room with a quiet sigh of relief, you tug at the wooden door and peek in, hoping that you weren't barging in at such a humiliating time.
Scattered around the rather room, students were paired in twos. Each couple's bodies had been facing each other, hands sitting awkwardly in the other's while their faces were turned towards the dance instructors, Professor Shin and Professor Na. By the look on Professor Shin's face, it was evident that she was about to continue speaking, but the door swinging open had caught her attention.
"Ahh Y/N, nice of you to finally join us," she clasped her hands in genuine excitement, passion towards dance obviously bubbling up inside of her.
You grinned crudely and bowed your head, "W-what should I do, Professor?" Spotting your best friend Felix within the group of students, he tried his best to send you a look of 'we were supposed to be partners'. You shot him an apologetic expression back before turning your attention back to both professors.
After a brief pause in thought, Professor Na's face lit up, "Ah yes! Lee Minho lacks a partner as of now!" Following the eyes of your teacher, they brought your line of sight to the far corner of the room where Minho had been sitting. At the mention of his name, he raised his head to see that everyone had been gaping back at him in what seemed like total silence.
A sharp intake of air through your nose had replicated a gasp, eyes growing wide, "P-pardon?" Out of all the boys in the class, an amount you couldn't keep track of with your fingers, you had to end up with Lee Minho? The human embodiment of a wet sock?
Minho was… unbearable, to say the least. It wasn't that he had done something for you to hate him, which made you seem like a bad person, but in all honesty, your guys' personalities didn't seem to match. He was too arrogant, in your opinion. He has this energy that he carries that really didn't sit well with you, and by the looks of it, the feeling was mutual. It was as if you both ended up on the opposite bc end of everything.
It really doesn't help that you're a Hufflepuff, and he's a Slytherin. For some unknown reason, they always loved teasing the people from your house, though Hufflepuffs chose not to return their actions.
"Mr. Lee is the only student remaining with no partner."
You gulped and slowly approached him, only because your professors had motioned you over to him. If you could protest, you would, but what was holding you back was the attention given by the entire class and the teacher's who seemed too excited for their own good.
Minho pressed his tongue against his inner cheek, eyes lighting up in wrongly-fueled happiness. He hopped from the upper bench and down across from you. You blinked back at him dryly, maintaining calm yet trying to speak to him with your eyes.
Crossing his arms, he leaned forward and smirked, "Why the bitter face? You should relish in your luck for ending up with me."
"Stop talking, dead cells are coming out of your mouth… Luck my as–"
"Now! That everyone has a partner, I'd like you all to stick with these individuals until these classes are finished," Professor Shin had announced. It was quickly followed by groans and whining from many of your classmates. Though you hated your partner and wished you had arrived earlier and paired with Felix, you stood quiet, isolating the anger within your chest.
"And before we begin once again," Professor Na added, "I'd like to point out that this is still a class. We will be holding a class particularly focused on evaluation and your grade will be heavily based on participation over the length of this course." Once again, a chorus of grumbles had flooded the room.
You hear Minho curse under his breath, only because he was now two steps too far into your bubble, "This is utter bullshit."
This time it was your turn to taunt, "Why? Are you scared or something? Can't dance? Can't keep up with everyone?"
Narrowing his eyes, he scoffs, "Oh, shut your mouth, bumblebee. Just wait and see."
Tumblr media
ii.
"Get up!" Felix tugged at your arm, voice sounding louder than it actually was. When you hadn't shifted at all in your bed, he sighed and tugged once more, "Y/N!"
"Wha– Felix you're not allowed in here!" You kicked at your blanket and sat up.
"We need to get to dance class," he clicked his tongue, "Let's go~"
"I really don't want to go," you whined, "I'd rather fail a class than hold hands with Lee Minho for an hour and a half." Felix dragged you out of your bed to see that you were already dressed in your robe, only your yellow and black tie had been carelessly tied.
"Wait, did you not change out your clothes from yesterday?" Felix jumped back in exaggeration, alarmed and slightly grossed out. His nose scrunched while he judged you through his eyes.
You glared at him and scoff, "Of course I did, you idiot. And don't act like you haven't done that." You take this as your victory as it was true, Felix had gone two days without changing, and it was a bit nasty considering all the places he's gone to in a day.
This time it was his turn to glare at you, "You shut your mouth! Now let's leave before Snape sees us roaming the halls once class starts."
Minho winced slightly, trying not to let your feet ruin the simple waltz routine that the class had finally run through, "If you step on my foot one more time, I'm shoving yours up your arse." His teeth were gritted in frustration, looking down at you with narrowed eyes.
"Then stop stepping on my feet," you muttered back, hoping that no one else, especially the professors, were hearing you two bicker.
It had only been about two lessons into the class and that amount of times that Minho had purposefully disrupted the routine… as if it were good, to begin with.
The two of you found it difficult to fall in sync with each other. It was always either going too fast or too slow, someone making an 'accidental' mistake, and Minho's favourite, holding your hand and hip with a tight and stubborn grip. It wasn't evident whether he was doing it on purpose, either, but you had pointed it out plenty of times, and he never seemed to loosen them.
"I'm not stepping on them," he pushed you back a little too early in the dance, causing you to stumble on your own feet. This caught the attention of those around you, though they carried on almost immediately after.
"Tell that to my bruised toe," you argued back.
As if you were being blessed, the music had finally come to an end. You promptly retracting your arms and to your body and taking a step back from Minho. He had done the same, going an extra mile to turn away from you and to the professors.
"Perfect! Perfect!" Professor Na's face lit up from excitement, "Now that we have learned this simple routine, next class we are moving on to one of the actual dances done in the Yule Ball as tradition. I hope you all are excited as I am!" Very few students had taken time to let out a "whoop" while everyone else, including you, chose to retrieve their books at the seats.
Felix approached you with a pitiful smile. He already knew what you were going to say, patting your back gently, "So how was it?"
Exhausted, you just shook your head and shrugged. Being partners with Minho honestly had been completely draining for you, mentally and physically, which was unusual as you could often live through such situations without feeling the need to scream.
"What else do you think?"
Felix nodded apologetically and puffed out his cheeks, "Is it as bad as the potions exam we had in fourth year?" He shuddered subtly and led you out of the classroom. Just thinking about that exam made Felix want to claw at his brain. If there was a way to take a particular memory and make it disappear from the chamber of long term memories, he would. Maybe then he'd be able to get a few more hours of sleep.
"Yes," you replied simply. The test was equally as horrible for you, but a test didn't force you to 'create chemistry' with a certain Slytherin.
"You're lying… can't be that bad," Felix laughed lightly.
"Easy for you to say," you sighed.
From behind, you feel someone bump your shoulder and pass by you, "Oops," he snickered, walking backwards to watch your reaction. The only thing he was missing was popcorn.
You turned to see Minho and rolled your eyes, "Ha-Ha, you're so funny, Lee Minho." Such a childish joke and you guys were almost leaving Hogwarts.
Though your reply had been dripping in sarcasm, Minho's wit had dodged it entirely, "Well thank you very much," he bowed, more like a manly curtsy, before he ran off, leaving Felix slightly puzzled at what just happened.
"Don't you see how much of a dingbat he is? He constantly chooses to pick on me just to get a reaction out of me," you utter, "He should be glad I was raised to be patient, if not I'd be hexing him like the world was near its end."
"I see a pattern," Felix hummed. The expression on his face looked as if he had come to an incredible epiphany.
Making a face, you click your tongue, "What do you even mean by that?" What pattern? Green, white, green, white? Minho and his constant need to be the crow to your crops?
Felix patted your head, "You're slow sometimes, you know that right?" He puffed his cheeks up and raised his brows as he looked down at you as if you were a kid.
"Can you just spit it out?" you narrowed your eyes at him before you physically pried his hand off your head.
"Minho does all of that just to get a reaction out of you," Felix presses his lips into a thin line, slowly forming a smile.
Finally arriving at the next classroom, you groaned, "You basically repeated what I said earlier…"
"If you didn't know this already, boys love getting attention from someone they are attracted to," Felix plopped into his seat. You followed right after, "I should know… I'm a boy."
You almost laugh at the tone of his voice. The confidence and the look he gave you to emphasize his statement; was all too funny, "So what you're saying is… Lee Minho has a – and god forbid– crush on me?" Felix nods like a young child, with eyes wide and a tight-lipped smile.
"Bollocks," You burst out laughing, "Felix, I love you, don't get me wrong, but you've never said anything more rubbish in the years I've known you."
"The chances are never zero," Felix put his index finger as if he were saying it in 'a matter of fact'.
You lean forward and sit your chin at your folded forearms. You eyed the teacher as she made her way into the room, "You're right there, Lix, but there's honestly no way Minho would like me. And me of all people would know that." You locked that statement in, feeling your words and emotions contradict.
Right?
Tumblr media
iii.
"And then Y/N had the audacity to step on my foot," Minho kicked at the bench across from him, frustration released after what seemed to Seungmin was years of ranting. He didn't mind though, in years of being in the same house as him, he learned how to block him out yet still know what was going on when Minho asked for some sort of reply.
Minho tapped the end of his pencil against his textbook, eyes drifting off elsewhere in the grand hall. Students were clumped at their respective tables, studying for whatever class they had. Minho was trying to do the same, but his state of mind was not in the mood. But he was trying, he was pushing himself, that's what mattered in his opinion.
Turning his attention to Seungmin, who was seated next to him, he jumped, seeing that Seungmin's eyes were wide and directed at him, "What the hell!?"
"What?" Seungmin shifted back forward, facing his own books. In a sense, the scene was hysterical. He acted as if he hadn't done anything wrong or out of the ordinary, but Minho still tried to push an explanation out of him through looks.
"What do you mean what? Why were you looking at me like that?" Minho put his pencil down and closed his book on it.
"I was trying to see something," the boy shrugged and got back to his own work.
Again, Minho furrowed his brows at Seungmin's lack of detail in his response. What in the world was he even trying to do? "Trying to see what? If you don't answer me properly–"
"Okay! Okay!" Seungmin exclaimed a little too loudly, earning looks from other wizards in the room, "You know that saying that if you're in love, you start to glow?"
"No? What type of nonsense are you saying?" Minho scoffed, "Love? Are you sick or something?" Roughly, Minho brought the back of his hand to Seungmin's forehead, which Seungmin had thrown off almost right away.
"You've been talking about Y/N this entire period, you haven't stopped until moments ago," wiggling his eyebrows, Seungmin whispered his reply to Minho, making sure no one would be able to hear him this time.
Minho's face had contorted into one of disgust and confusion, "And?" Where was Seungmin even going with this? He was just relieving stress. It's not that deep.
"My point is that they're the only thing you've been talking about lately," Seungmin scribbles his pen at the top of his paper to get it to work, "Even if I start the conversation, it somehow just shifts to Y/N. Normally I'd be mad, but since you're in love, I'll let it pass."
"In love?" Minho's jaw dropped, a mixture of emotions swimming around inside of him, "In love!?" Trying to find words to perfectly reflect what he was saying, he fails, shoving Seungmin off the bench. Actions spoke louder than words, right?
Seungmin smirked and chuckled, unfazed, "What? Cat got your tongue?" He gets up, dusting his robe off before sitting back down, "It's because I'm right, aren't I?"
Minho gulps, "Will you quit it? You're…"
"I'm…?"
"You're confusing me. Quit it," Minho huffs, gathering all his things as he was planning to return to the dormitories. This was a different way of playing with emotions. There was a zero per cent chance that he liked you, or worse, loved you. That word was way too strong, dangerous like amortentia.
"I take that as a yes!" Seungmin stood his ground, just letting out a genuine laugh.
Minho held a finger up at Seungmin, who still laughed, unbothered. He didn't like you. And if he did, it wasn't wrong to do so. It was an ordinary mortal thing to have feelings. But that didn't matter right now because he didn't like you, not even a tiny crush.
But that slight state of unfamiliar panic in his heart says otherwise.
Tumblr media
iv.
The muscles in your arm were aching from the horrible fact that Minho had been purposefully letting his arm go limp while he was holding your hand, which somehow led to you holding up his arm with your arm. You frowned at him, tempted to let your arm fall in the middle of the routine.
"Can you actually put in some effort?" you whispered through gritted teeth. Squeezing Minnho's hand, you directed a look of annoyance that only returned with an amused look. Underneath his robe, you could tell he had been intentionally dragging his feet, causing the both of you to slowly hold those partnerships behind you up.
"I'm not wasting energy on this," he shrugs quietly, "It's ridiculous."
"What don't you find ridiculous?" you rolled your eyes, "You Slytherins and the lack of interest in anything but yourselves. Where's the excitement in that?" No, you didn't want to generalize the entire Slytherin population, especially since you had family members from that house, but you knew exactly how to rev up Minho's engine. Just by the way his face twisted, you knew damn well you hit the right spot.
"Shut your mouth before I spin you a little too hard…" he said a little bit louder, "I don't find it ridiculous, I just find that us being partners is ridiculous… who in this entire school would want to be partners with you?" Before you could even reply, he had caught you, "That's not from your house."
"Jokes on you, I know plenty of people who would be partners with me," you scoffed, and it was true. There was Jisung who had somehow been sorted into Gryffindor, Hyunjin and their seniors, Bang Chan and Changbin. And there was Jeongin, who was a Ravenclaw. You could list a handful more, but that's beside the point.
"Silence is deadly," he stifled a laugh which had driven you to 'accidentally' stumble over your own feet. This caused him to stumble himself, only he wasn't prepared for it, "I'm blaming you for ending up being my partner. I was hoping someone else would've entered the room. But no, it had to be you."
"You're blaming me? For this?" You shake your head out of disbelief, not noticing that your voice had gone louder. You were catching the attention of those around you and the professors at the front of the room, "You could have found a partner you wanted in the first place but you probably decided to stay back and wait for someone to go up to you. No one wanted to be partners with you, which is why you ended up alone in the first place."
Minho's eyebrows furrowed, eyes almost on fire at what you had just said, "You know what?!"
Before he had been able to continue the banter, Professor Shin had cleared her throat. The glares that they both were sending your way had caused the both of you to stop with the squabbling, "Y/N, Minho, I know we've never talked to the two of you about your constant bickering, but it is simply interrupting the atmosphere of my classroom."
Taken aback, the both of you had stumbled over each other's feet, falling to the ground and causing a domino effect among the rest of the students.
Flustered, you turn to Minho, "That was all your fault, Lee Minho." You huffed and attempted to get up, failing once you noticed that Minho was practically lying on your leg.
"Oh be quiet," he rolled his eyes and dusted himself off, "That was all you! You and your two left feet." The rest of the room was silent, regardless of the incident. All ears and eyes were on the 'love birds,' not entirely sure whether or not they should blame you both on what had just happened.
Sliding out from underneath him, you scoffed, "Don't speak so highly of yourself, Minho."
Minho cackled, "Highly? Of myself?!"
"Stop this instant!" Professor Na had finally mustered up the courage to intervene, anger bubbling in his stomach, "Enough!" The two professors began helping the students up, scolding both of you as they did.
"Five points deducted from your respective houses," Professor Shin said sharply, "And you both are now in charge of polishing the floor every Friday for the following three weeks."
"But professor–"
Minho was cut off, "That, or ten points off for your houses…" And without another word, you both chose to polish the floors after all classes were done for the day.
Day one of polishing the floors was practically the most difficult. Not only did the professors restrict using magic to finish the chore, but the overall idea of doing something alongside Minho aggravated you, which was why you hated dancing with him so much. The comments he'd make, the taunting looks he'd give you, the jokes that were obviously uncalled for, they all were honestly bringing you to the point of near insanity.
At first, both of you had decided to start off on the same side, almost the same corner. But the moment you noticed Minho constantly glancing your way in the corner of your eye, you decided against it, "How about I start at that end."
"Whatever floats your boat," he mumbles, "I don't care."
The tone in his voice hadn't matched yours, which you assumed was polite enough not to spark some type of that energy in him, but it did.
"Whatever," you make your way to the other end, sliding your robe off on the way. You let it hang off one of the benches, making sure it wasn't touching the floor. You rolled up your sleeves and started polishing the further end of the room, a bit relieved that Minho wasn't hovering anywhere within your line of sight. It was better that way.
The second day, you were hoping that you could get through a period of cleaning without hearing Minho's ungodly voice. He had been moving back and forth from one corner to the other, feet squeaking seemingly endlessly against the floor. You wished that the volume of the music could be turned up louder.
"I'm doing more than you are," Minho pointed out. You turned to find that he was standing in the middle of the room, hair messy and beads of sweat lining his hairline. His collar was out of place, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows just as yours were. Did he, for some reason, look attractive, or was it the lack of light in the room? Probably the latter.
"What do you mean you're doing more than I am?" you feel your eyebrows knit together in confusion, "I'm doing the same amount of work as you." And you were, but you were working just a bit slower than he was. He had probably sped through his area with the idea that the sooner you both finished, the sooner you were able to leave.
"Just hurry up," he groaned. Minho dragged his feet over to a lone stool, pushing it against the wall before plopping into it. The music continued to play, drowning out the shuffle noises of his feet.
"No," you replied, keeping your speed consistent. It wasn't like you wanted to stay longer. It was the fact that Minho couldn't leave until you were finished that was making you act this way. Maybe if he did his job well, he wouldn't be sitting around doing nothing.
Tile by tile, you continued to carry out the chore given to you, not paying mind to the pair of eyes that were burning holes into your back. You ensured that the areas you had worked on were basically spotless, reflection or not, you assumed that shiny meant clean.
Minho had been humming along to the somewhat catchy tune, foot tapping to pass the precious time he believed you were wasting. Nonetheless, he leaned back and sighed, hoping you could finish in time, so he had time to nap before dinner.
"Why do they even need classes for dancing?" He sighed out. At first, you weren't quite sure if he was speaking to you or if he was just thinking out loud, "I feel like we'd be fine either way…" You turn to look at him, seeing that he was already staring at you down.
"I mean it's going to look nice at the Yule Ball,"
You replied.
"Yeah but not everyone's going… it's a waste of time," Minho had a point, yet you still found it somewhat amusing that the school would want to organize such things.
"I don't see why you don't just skip class if you find it a waste of time," you moved onto another spot and sighed, "No one's stopping you."
"Yeah but who'd be your partner then?"
Not knowing how to react to his question, you keep quiet. Minho decided not to follow up on the problem, thinking that he had said something out of the ordinary.
The sun had reached the horizon when you finished your portion of the room. You stood up to stretch, hearing the joints of your knees and back pop out of exhaustion. It was satisfying to see the difference between the used, scruffy floor and the clean, polished floor.
"Okay Lee Minho I'm finished," without taking a glance at the boy, you made your way over to the record player. You lifted the needle off and picked the record up, slipping it into its sleeve. It didn't occur to you that Minho hadn't shifted in the past thirty minutes, silence filling the room because you turned the music off.
"Minho?" Finally turning to him, you found him sleeping with his head sat back against the wall. His mouth was wide open, practically becoming a makeshift trap for bugs that happened to be flying around. The rest of his body was limp, legs spread out beneath him. It was surprising that he hadn't fallen off yet.
You walked up to his sleeping figure and laughed lightly, wishing you had a camera to capture this moment. It would've been great blackmail. Maybe then he'd start being nice to you. Naturally, your eyes followed the slope of his nose, then to the two front teeth that stuck out from underneath his top lip.
He had bunny-like features, and you didn't mean that in a wrong way. His face was still sculpted nonetheless. Anyone with eyes would have to admit that he was attractive.
"Done staring at me yet?"
You screamed and jumped back, pressing your hand up to your chest as if to calm you down. Looking back at Minho, you find that his eyes were still closed, yet a smirk had replaced his gaping mouth. The number of curse words that threatened to leave your mouth was countless, the embarrassment creeping up to your cheeks. He finally lifted his head to look at you, eyes still a bit droopy from his nap.
"I-I wasn't staring at you," you denied, shaking your head a bit too aggressively, "Well I was… but because I was laughing at how foolish you just looked."
An offended look surfaced Minho's face, scowling at you as he stood, "I have this feeling that you're lying, bumblebee… Anyways, this is where I leave. Finally, after years." He shook his rolled-up sleeves so that the cuffs slid back to his wrists. You let him leave without another word from the two of you, still in a bit of shock at what just happened. You knew he was never going to let you forget that.
You slumped next to Felix as dinner was being served, an expression almost as heavy as your posture. He looked down at you, debating whether or not he should interrupt the mini montage you were probably playing through your head.
"I want to ask you how the cleaning today was but I think I already know just by looking at you," he stated, sliding a piece of roasted chicken your way, "Unless you do want to speak about it. Just eat and the day's over."
You gave him a grateful smile and gestured for him to eat too, eyes lighting up slightly, "I'm actually not tired from cleaning that stupid dance room, but it's just… this thing that happened. It was beyond embarrassing."
Felix snorts and stuffs his cheeks with food. His words came out muffled as he still chose to reply with a full mouth, "What happened this time?"
You glanced towards the Slytherin table, eyes scanning it quickly to get one quick look at Minho before you whispered, "Minho fell asleep waiting for me to finish cleaning. He looked idiotic as he did so I sorta just—how do I say this— stared at him? But it wasn't like I was admiring him, it was more like I didn't want that stupid look on his face to go away. It was amusing."
"And?"
"In the middle of that he went, 'are you done staring yet?' It was like he had a sixth sense or something," you muttered, "Now I feel like he's making fun of me."
"Doesn't he always make fun of you," Felix had yet again stuffed his mouth, so his words were still muffled, "Why does it matter this time?"
"It's different. It's not some useless situation… it was genuinely embarrassing," you poke the food before taking a bite of your own, "He's going to it against me, I already know."
"Don't worry, I'm pretty sure he'll forget it sooner than you will."
"Hey remember when I caught you staring at me?" Minho's voice echoed faintly throughout the room. He stood up to stretch before he crouched back down.
"I never stared at you," you sneered, "And why are you talking about that as if it happened years ago. That was literally last week."
"That's long enough in my book," he retorted, "Good times." A small reminiscing type smile appearing on his lips.
"Can you not start? I sorta want today to be stress-free and you're literally ruining it," you roll your eyes and move onto the next tile on your side. Minho had decided to choose a different record to play today, one the professors had never played in class. It had been hidden behind all the other records being used, and it took Minho a good five minutes to rake through all of them just to get to it.
The songs were more upbeat than the waltz music you were forced to listen to, which was actually much more perfect for cleaning to. It made it a bit more bearable than the last two times you had to clean.
Minho didn't reply, though you didn't see how he switched glances between you and the mechanical polisher in hand. The track had shifted into a faster song, something that was easy to dance to. From where he stood, he could see your knitted eyebrows, eyes dropping from the slight fatigue blanketing over you after a long school day.
Upon awareness that his shoulders were slumped, he straightened himself and sighed. This week had indeed been a long week, and it was evident in some way in both of you. This was the last of the week's labour before he could go and relax while mindlessly saving his homework for Sunday.
The music had been tempting to let go earlier than he should for the week, the steady beat and the catchy melody filling the room.
Putting the polisher and the rag down, he took a few steps towards you, still contemplating whether he should do what he was thinking or not. He was unsure whether it was bizarre for him to pull such a thing. But you did say you wanted a stress-free day, so he thought he should switch up a bit.
He started moving his body to the rhythm of the music, head bobbing as it took over him naturally. It was easier dancing alone than with a partner, that's for sure, but he wanted to invite you.
"Y/N!" He was freestyling, arms flailing and legs bringing him across the room with a swift movement.
You sighed, "What now?" Turning to Minho, you find him in the middle of the dance room, doing what the room was made for. He had a foreign smile on his face, not the usual smirk you'd find him sporting.
"What the–"
"Join me!"
You went through several different emotions in seconds, confusion, amusement, joy, contemplation… how were you supposed to react to a goofy Minho?
"Join me!" He repeated. This time he approached you, hands out in invitation, "C'mon it's fun!"
"Minho, we have to finish this so we can leave, remember?" You tried to keep a stern look on your face, yet you couldn't hold back the smile that had been forcing itself out. Minho suited this look; It was happier and carefree. You didn't know that his eyes would light up when he smiled a somewhat gummy smile.
"I know, but let's take a break," being the impatient boy he was, he took hold of your hands and pulled you up. He led you in a dance that probably wasn't considered a partner dance. He just pushed your arms back and forth like those scenes in the movies.
"Minho!" You finally let out a laugh, feet unable to keep up with his. He was sidestepping left, then sidestepping right, then back and forth, all unplanned. You stumbled, letting out joyful laughter that was rare around Minho. He laughed along with you, eyes disappearing the bigger his smile got.
When your legs had gotten worn out from constant movement, you tripped over one of them, sending you and your dance partner to the ground. Instead of erupting anger that would have usually washed over you, fits of laughter fell in its place, echoing throughout the room.
Before you could ask if he was okay, you hear footsteps enter the room, a confused Professor Shin staring the both of you down, "What are you two doing?! This is not polishing the floors!" The exasperation changed the normal hue of her skin into a shade of crimson.
Quickly apologizing, you get up and return to your so-called 'stations,' not being able to say another word about what had just happened to each other.
You wouldn't admit it out loud, not in front of Minho at least… but that was the most fun you've had in weeks.
Little did you know, Minho felt the same way.
Tumblr media
v.
There was a part of you who had gotten used to Minho's horrible dancing after two weeks of dancing classes. After what happened last week, there was a tiny sliver of toleration that had surfaced from both of you. It was mutual. But obviously, neither of you were going to admit it.
Though Minho was starting to get somewhat bearable, there were still days when he'd begin to act up, smirk pinned tightly on his lips while he mischievously pranced about in the dance room. Today was one of those days.
When Professor had slipped the record onto the play, dropping the needle onto the very edge and starting it, Minho had chosen to let his body go heavy, relying on you to haul him around like a giant, weighted ragdoll. You knew he wasn't tired, just judging by the look in his eyes.
"Give it up," you tugged him roughly in one direction, then again towards another, feet hardly following the steps the class was taught the past few weeks. If Minho let his body grow just a bit limper than it already was, his head would have fallen directly onto your shoulder. If you were being honest, you didn't want any attention from anyone else in the room, "Lee Minho, I'm not in the mood for this today, okay?"
Minho's ears perked at the foreign tone that had slipped from your lips, sensing that you were being serious. You would tell him to quit it most days, but never with that tone; It was no fun if you weren't fighting back. Sighing quietly, he had picked his body up and started to follow the eight-count that Professor Shin was practically yelling out.
This minor change didn't go unnoticed by you, feeling his body grow lighter just moments after you'd ask him to quit it. Did he just…?
Other students in the room were surprised that you two were going more than thirty seconds without arguing like a married couple. Many sets of eyes didn't bother leaving the both of you, watching what would happen next in the twist of events.
Minho's feet carried his body swiftly; for the first time, he was guiding you like he was supposed to, but his eyes were glued to his feet, not wanting it to become weird if he were to make accidental eye contact with you. He didn't like how quiet it was between the both of you. The music didn't even do its purpose by filling the silence.
"Are you going to the Yule Ball?" Minho asked awkwardly. He twirled you as part of the dance. He recognized that look on your face which was basically a wordless reply, "That was probably a dumb question." Shaking his head, Minho mentally slapped himself. Never in his life did he fail with words.
"Of course I'm going," you replied rather expressionless, "Why would I not?" You were almost as confused as earlier. Minho trying to make a civilized conversation. Who the fuck was this? It wasn't Minho.
He shrugs, "I don't know… I guess you have a date…?" Minho, what the fuck. He squeezed his eyes shut as if the stone floor would swallow him wholly to take him away from this situation.
As puzzled as you were, you still decided to keep the conversation as it was, "Nope… I think I'm just going with Felix for fun." You tried to keep your tone calm when really you were freaking out. The only thing was you had no idea why you were freaking out, "Y-you?" Facepalm.
"No one."
None of you chose to speak after, not knowing where the conversation was going. The song was slowly reaching the end, which you had wished came sooner. Minho's hands were growing sweaty, and you wanted nothing more than to wipe your hand off. It was getting hot in the room too. Your collar was growing tight, throat itching for water.
Minho's heart was beating a bit too fast for his liking, but it was probably because he was growing tired from the moving. He wondered if you could feel how sweaty his hands were getting. Embarrassing.
"Final counts!" Professor Na called out before the static of the record player replaced the music. The two of the professors had clapped in adoration, overlooking all the students in the room.
Professor Shin had a broad smile on her face, "Beautiful! Gorgeous! Best one so far!" She twirled in place, "Thank you everyone! The Yule ball is in two weeks so I am very pleased with the effort you all are putting into this class! Remember we still have the final class in which you are graded, which I'm sure you all will ace."
"I couldn't care less," Minho mumbled, only so you could hear.
You turn to him, squinting your eyes and tilting your head to express your slight frustration, "You know I'm your partner right?"
"Oh no~ really?," he stuffed his hands into his pockets, "And?"
"And? I don't want to fail this class, even though I'm forced to dance with you," you stated, "So don't you fucking dare fail us both." That tone in your voice was evident once again, catching Minho off guard. The only reason that it had this effect on him was that he was so used to you choosing to fight back. It was like some sort of reminder that everyone around him was getting old, and soon all those around him were expected to be serious.
Nevertheless, Minho shrugs to annoy you, "Whatever."
Instead of answering, you eyed him once more. Your dancing just a few moments ago says otherwise.
You had practically sighed out the total capacity of your lungs as you hung onto Felix's arms on the way out the door.
"What are you sighing about?" He chuckled.
"You already know," you elbowed him.
Felix rolled his eyes and sang, "I saw you guys dancing earlier~."
You pushed him away gently, shock littering your face and posture, "What the bloody hell are you on about now, Lee?"
"You guys actually look cute together when you aren't babbling and all," he grinned innocently. Your heart had the audacity to skip a beat, startling you just as much as Felix did.
"Cute?" You scoffed, "First you said you think he liked me, now this? Are you his wingman or something? Are you trying to get me to like him?"
Felix skipped in his step, "I don't even talk to Minho, Y/N, don't be ridiculous… wait… did you basically just say you're starting to like him?" He gasped, hand slapping over his mouth, which had fallen in shock.
"No," you say flatly.
"Liar," Felix poked at your rib, "Liar. At least confess that you find him less bad."
"Sure, whatever makes you happy, Felix."
When you had fallen out of Felix's line of sight, you let the corner of your mouths turn up slightly. He said we looked cute, you think, only followed by you flicking yourself in the temple.
-
"I thought you were staying here until it closed?" you frown at Felix, who started gathering his stuff. You both had planned on cramming everything in for a test the next day, but plans didn't go as planned when Felix was eager to go back to the dormitories to sleep until the morning.
"My eyes are going to fall out of their sockets if I don't go and sleep, Y/N," he pats your head as if he were talking to a young child, "You can stay if you want. I know how much you hate studying in the common room." He double-checks his area to ensure he hadn't forgotten any of his belongings before patting your head once more. He grins and turns towards the door of the library, leaving you sitting alone at the table.
"Felix ~" You called out quietly, only for him to wave with his back facing you. You sighed and slumped back in your chair, resting your arms on the handles. Libraries were so much better when you had company.
The words in the textbook were starting to turn into blobs of ink, and for a second, you were thinking about following in Felix's footsteps. After moments of consideration, you shook your head and sat up. You'll stay, even if it was against the will of your fatigue self that had been prompting you to leave. This was all your fault anyway. Procrastination was a cruel thing.
Hunching forward, you let your eyes trace over the words, trying to process the information. You rewrote the info you wished to remember carelessly. Your notes resembled chicken scratch, but at this point, you didn't care because it was simply supplementary to your studying. The sun was close to its horizon, and the library was close to empty. It was somewhat more motivating.
Slowly the information had started to get more interesting. It was easier to run through the key terms and ideas listed in the textbook, and you could feel the exhaustion simply leaving your body. I'll finish this one last chapter and then save the rest for lunch tomorrow.
Your focus on the book had hindered your peripheral vision that the presence of another wizard floating over your shoulder went unnoticed. It was only until they had sat down next to you when you finally noticed.
You jumped in your seat, eyes growing wide. You had luckily suppressed your scream with your hand, which you had, out of defense, swung forward, slapping the person in the chest.
"Ow! What was that for?"
"You don't sneak up on people like that, Minho," you rolled your eyes at the Slytherin, shifting away from him before turning your attention back towards the textbook. He scooches closer with intentions of irritating you, pushing his face towards your book, "What are you doing?"
You push him away and stick one of the thicker books between you both, "What does it look like?"
"Studying?"
"You're smarter than I thought, Lee Minho," sarcasm dripped from your voice as you glared at him. Attempting to continue with the final chapter, you miserably fail when Minho interrupts your concentration by tapping his fingers loudly against the wooden table.
"Don't you have anything better to do?" you say numbly, voice muffled by your robe, "I was literally just sitting here and you decide to do this."
Minho shrugs and uses his arms as a makeshift pillow, "I was bored, saw you, here I am, I'm here to stay."
Your eyebrows furrowed at the fact that Minho decided to 'spend time with you upon seeing you. You had no idea whether to feel flattered or irritated, but you knew you were confused. He could've just gone back to the Slytherin dungeons to sit with his housemates, but he saw you and decided to sit with you.
Staring blankly at the bookshelves across from you, you huffed out the corner of your mouth, blowing a stray strand of hair by your cheek. You did say you wanted company. You just weren't sure if it was Minho's company that you wanted. Glancing down briefly at him, and looked back up to the bookshelves.
"Fine," you say after pondering about the idea.
Minho's ears perked up, raising his brows, "Fine?"
"Just don't be loud."
Minho's head tilts in confusion, though he still complies, sitting next to you patiently. You continued to read through the final chapter, which you had underestimated in length. The chapter was a good half a centimetre in thickness. Though it didn't seem as much at first glance, the pages were practically dipped in ink, words covering it from one corner to the other.
You could feel your eyes grow heavy as you delve deeper into the chapter. Your bed was calling for you, but there was no way you were going to give. Not until this chapter was finished.
The library had been silent except for the occasional click of the pen from the librarian's desk. You had been mentally counting down the number of pages left to skim over, eager to feel that feeling of satisfaction you usually get once you finish a task. It was the same feeling as crossing or checking off a chore on a to-do list.
Minho had settled his eyes on the centre of your book, keeping them steady even as you flipped the pages. He felt the lids of eyes gradually get heavier as each page went by, and by the time you shut the book in delight, he had fallen asleep.
"Again?" You furrowed your eyebrows, remembering the last time he had fallen asleep in your presence. You darted your eyes away from his dormant figure, not making that same mistake twice, "Minho, wake up."
He stirs right away, head rising from his arms. This time he says nothing, pushing himself off of the library's chair before stumbling over his own feet as he makes his way to your side. He looked like a toddler, and it was admittedly adorable.
"Why didn't you just go straight to the dorms if you were tired," you snorted at his dumbassery. Some students still littered the halls even if curfew was nearing. Instead of parting from your side at the library's entrance, Minho stuck by your side.
"I wanted to spend time with you outside of class," he grumbles. He blinks at the long corridor in front of you two, eyes barely staying open from exhaustion.
Feeling your heart skip a beat, you tried to pick out if he was joking or not, but his tone screamed, 'I'm tired.' Any other emotion was hard to comb out, so you sighed and shook your head, pressing your lips into a smile, "Sleep that cheesiness off, Lee Minho."
Minho continued to walk next to you, silent and confused about what you just had said. It wasn't like he was drunk. He was well aware of what he just said. Nonetheless, he subtly walked you to the kitchen corridor, parting ways with you with an uttered 'goodbye.'
Tumblr media
vi.
Sitting against the stone wall, you watched the rest of the class carry out the dance routine, formation changes and all. You ran through it with them, only mentally as your partner was nowhere to be found, and the class was halfway done.
There were barely any classes left before the final graded run through, and Minho really thought it'd be funny to skip? You would have let it pass if you guys weren't the worst duo in the room, but you guys are the worst duo in the room, which made the situation different.
"Professor Na," You asked quietly, "Has Lee Minho been excused from today's class. Is he ill?" You didn't want to jump to conclusions, keeping in mind that people did have their own reasons. Maybe he had caught a cold or was doing a missed exam that was far more important than dancing.
"No word from Minho, Y/N," the professor hummed back.
You frowned and thanked him, turning back to the main dance floor, students moving in sync. Where was he?
Just as you had finished your train of thought, the door had swung open just like it probably did on the first day of class. Minho stumbled in, hair a mess and a rather sheepish smile stamped on his lips.
"I apologize Professors," he bowed deeply, following the perimeter of the room. He bowed again as he reached the two instructors at the front of the room.
Professor Shin stopped her counting, "No need to apologize to us, apologize to your partner." She gestured towards you, already looking back. Minho nodded and approached you, though when he did reach you, he didn't apologize.
"And?"
"And what?" Minho ridiculed.
"Aren't you going to apologize like what the Professor asked?" You tried not to laugh at how Minho had been acting.
Minho let out a cackle, “No? Why should I? Can you stand up so we can start dancing or something?" His hand was itching to reach out for yours, feeling like he should pull you towards him, but he hindered himself from doing so, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
Instead of pushing the apology out of him, you decided against it, not wanting to waste any of your time, "Why are you even late?"
The two of you followed the crowd, joining in at the perfect time. Minho smirked, "Worried about me or something? I know I'm in your head twenty-four seven, but I didn't expect you to be so obvious about it."
Tightening your grip around his hand, you gritted your teeth, "I wasn't worried about you, nitwit."
"Then why are you asking?"
"Because you made me sit, doing nothing for nearly forty-five minutes?" You reply as if you were pointing out the obvious, "So why are you late and coming to class looking like a mountain troll?"
"Wow, ouch," he sighed, "I slept in. Am I going to hell for doing so? Because I can recall you did the same the first day and got us into this mess."
"This is about you, not me," you applied pressure onto his hands, causing him to stumble back slightly, ruining the rhythm he had built up. He furrowed his brows at you and did the same, only you were somehow ready for it.
"Oh please," Minho rolls his eyes, "You've done the same so you shouldn't even be mad at me."
"I'm only frustrated, not mad, there's a difference," you point out, "And I'm frustrated because we have that graded dance next week. If we fail, it's going to be your fault."
"It takes two to tango," he quoted, "And you already know where I stand on that. I don't ca-"
"Shut up, the professors are looking," you warned, flashbacks to the three weeks you had to polish the floors.
Minho laughed slightly, letting air blow out of his nose. He let his eyes drift down at you, keeping them there for a little too long.
"What?"
"Nothing," he shrugged, spinning you along with the other students, "You just looked way too terrified." The next move had the two of you closer than the initial space between you.
"I don't want to be spending an extra three hours with you after classes polishing the floor," you retort sharply. Instead of holding eye contact with him, you stared at the Slytherin crest on his uniform.
"I know you liked spending time with me, don't lie," he rolled his eyes teasingly.
"I'm not lying."
"You staring at me says otherwise."
"Oh hush about that already, I literally told you that I wasn't staring at you," Inwardly cringing, you felt relief once the music had stopped. You stepped back and eyed down the boy in front of you, "Why do keep bringing that up?"
Before Minho could give reasoning, Professor Na had spoken up from across the room, reminding everyone that the next class was the graded class. Though they wouldn't be strict with grading, he still wanted to see the students' effort 'flowing'. After a chorus of groans, class ended, allowing you to avoid Minho and find your way to Felix.
-
Someone tapping your shoulder had woken you up, head jolting up as if you were frightened.
"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Chaeryeong gasped sheepishly. She was hovering over you slightly, eyes wide. She was changed into her nightwear.
You sat up, only now realizing you had fallen asleep in the common room, "It's alright. What time is it?" You didn't even remember how you fell asleep, but you sure did have a good sleep.
"It's almost midnight," she replied, "I needed to grab water from the kitchen, then I saw you here and figured it'd be more comfortable for you to go to sleep in your own bed rather than this tiny couch."
You grinned, "Thanks Chae… I'll probably get something from the kitchen as well."
She nods and mumbles out a quick goodnight before disappearing to the girls' dorms. You return her farewell before standing up, eyes drawn to the wrinkles your nap had made on your robe. Attempting to straighten the robe and yourself out, you stumbled towards the Hufflepuff house entrance, exiting promptly.
The fireplace had been lit, a few house elves roaming about and carrying out their own duties. They paid no mind to you, as midnight snacks weren't out of the ordinary for Hufflepuffs.
You asked for what you needed, then was given it with no delay, "Thank you." The house elf nods before turning away with a grunt.
You sit at one of the tables, zoning out as you stared at the blazing fire across from you. School was getting a bit more stressful than it usually has, which was probably the reason why you had fallen asleep without knowing. You remember coming back from a long library visit. Maybe you collapsed on the couch once you did.
You made mental notes on the work still yet to be done before the following week, spontaneously creating a headache. Standing up, you figured it was best for you to go back to sleep. Slipping the dish into the sink, you started making your way back to the dorms.
You rubbed your temples and shook your head as you closed your eyes. It probably hadn't been a good idea to be wandering with your eyes closed as you had immediately bumped into something firm.
"Y/N?"
Looking up, you came face to face with Lee Minho, who was just as shocked as you were. He had been dressed down in a knitted Slytherin sweater and pyjama pants.
"Minho? What in the world?"
He backs up after noticing how close you were to each other, "Could say the same 'bout you."
"My dorms are right there," you point just down the corridor, "While yours is in the dungeon…"
Minho blinks before he tries to move around you, eyes avoiding yours.
"What are you doing here?" you grab his wrist, eager to find out why he was roaming the halls. It wasn't unusual for students to be breaking the rules, especially Minho, who loved living up to the stereotypes of a Slytherin. He smirks at the skinship, which prompts you to let go of him, heat rising up to your cheeks without warning. You're suddenly glad it's dim around the two of you.
"I was… taking a walk," he successfully pushes past you and into the kitchen, a glass of water already there for him. He thanks the house elf, leaving the glass, before turning back to you. By the looks of it, it seems like he's been doing this before, like a routine.
Rolling your eyes, you scoffed, "Taking a walk? You're painfully awful at lying." And the pause in his speaking gave that away. You followed behind him, expecting an honest answer as if you deserved to know.
"Weren't you just leaving?"
"But my question is unanswered," you shrugged.
"I answered you, I was taking a walk," he pushed the answer. Putting the cup down, he turned to you, "I have… sleeping problems."
"You just lied again," you nonchalantly, "Just tell me the truth. No judgment. A Hufflepuff's promise." You weren't usually one to push an answer out of someone, but this situation was different.
"You say no judgment but I already know how you're going to react to the truth," he takes another sip of water.
"So you were lying!" You raised your brows, "I knew it!"
"You don't deserve the truth," he sighs. Finishing the cup of water, he starts to make his way out, not even turning to look back.
"Lee Minho!" You groaned. Maybe it was your fatigue self or the fact this felt like some sort of game, but you weren't holding yourself back, "When I said I wouldn't judge, I won't. My mind's open to whatever you're going to say."
Minho spins around to face you, stumbling backward a few more steps before he halts, "I was practicing the dance steps."
No judgment.
The flat expression on Minho's face indicated that he had no intentions of lying this time. He had his hands hiding behind his back, eyeing you just to see if you would live up to your promise. Instead of his expected reaction, he finds you smiling, something he'd only see when you were around your friends.
"Wipe that smile off of your face, bumblebee," he mutters.
"Didn't you say you didn't care about that class?" you quoted, a smirk slowly replacing your smile, "Why are you practicing the steps?"
Minho licked his lips. He was at a loss of words, nothing but the truth occupying his mind… Why the hell not?
"Because you care."
You blinked back at him, lips parting and meeting several times as you tried to find the right words to say. The silence was deafening. "What?"
"Because you care," Minho repeated. He kept his expression still, eyeing you, trying to figure out how you were taking this in.
How would he further explain it? He didn't know. All he knew was that ever since that specific moment between the both of you the other day, he took it upon himself to better his partner dancing. He didn't want anyone else knowing, not you, and especially not his housemates, which was why he chose to stay up late to do this; it was the real reason why he had shown up late to class.
You weren't sure if it was because it was quiet, but you could easily hear your heartbeat as it quickened. You try to cover up the fact that you wanted to freak out, "I don't know whether I should laugh or–"
"Yeah, whatever, shouldn't have told you in the first place," he mumbles. For some reason, he felt his heart lub-dub in a way that it shouldn't. He frowned and sighed, "Just forget it."
"Wait, Minho," you call quietly. He stopped in his tracks and turned, partially facing the wall and facing you. He stared back at you with a vacant look, waiting for you to say something. If you weren't going to be saying something nice, he didn't want to hear it after exposing himself like that.
"'Because you care?'" you frowned, "You can't just say that and leave." You already made up a possible answer to the countless questions through your mind, but it was still unclear whether or not that was it.
"What else do you want me to say?" Minho stuffs his hands into his pockets.
"I just want you to explain it," you reply quietly.
Minho glanced out the window sitting by you both before sitting down on its pane, "Remember that other day… when I told you I didn't care?" You nod and move closer to where he sat, unsure whether or not you should sit next to him or not, "I don't know… you were really serious back then… I guess I wasn't used to that. So I figured…"
There was a quick moment of silence before he huffs, almost sounding defeated.
"Did you know that I genuinely don't dislike you as much as you think I do?" He says out of the blue, throwing you off. You wanted to tell him to sleep it off again—why did moments like this always happen at night?
"I don't either," you say back, "At first I did… but I matured."
"I only ever argued with you out of amusement. You're the only person outside of Slytherin that could out-talk me and it bothered me for some reason," he laughed as if he recalled a memory.
"Me intimidating a Slytherin? Just wait til the others hear about this," you joke. He glanced towards your direction and saw a clever glint in your eye.
"Don't you dare," he holds back a smile before standing up to face you directly, "Or…"
"Or what?" You challenged, "Imagine how Seungmin would react! Donghyuck and Renjun? What about Yeosang and Wooyoung?" You start listing the other well-known Slytherins off of the top of your head, holding back a laugh as you watch Minho's face crumble into an expression that looks far too close to fear.
Minho recollects himself and shakes some sense into himself, "Or I'll make you go to the Yule Ball with me." He hadn't planned on asking you today, but the timing was perfect. It fit with the situation. If you were to react unfavourably, then he could just joke about it.
His question shut you up. Your eyes widened at him as you processed what he had used as a threat, "What if I want to go to the Yule Ball with you?"
Minho takes a step towards you, a smirk appearing on his lips. His confidence was skyrocketing, and you can tell, "Then I guess it's a date?"
Rolling your eyes, you let a smile grace softly onto your lips, nodding, "It's a date."
Tumblr media
Bonus:
"I told you to wear something with gold," you whined jokingly as you were greeted with Minho, who had completely dodged your request. Instead of the black and gold look you were going for, he decided to wear a black suit that had traces of emerald. As much you wanted to match with your date, you had to admit that he still looked as handsome as ever in the attire. He looked like a prince.
"And look like a Hufflepuff? No thanks," he scoffed teasingly. He pulls out a corsage, one that matches the clothes he wore, tying it gently around your wrist, "You look very beautiful."
"Well, you look very handsome."
Minho laughed as he sticks out his forearm, a brow raised in your direction. Music being played by the live band had been spilling out of the ballroom; the voices of everyone attending gave the ball more life. It was exciting.
"Minho!" Seungmin had called. Felix, who had slipped from your side the moment Minho approached you, was standing by Seungmin, smiling brightly. He had been hyping you up the entire night, telling you that there should be nothing to worry about.
He was right.
"Shall we?" Minho asked. It was cheesy, but it worked.
"We shall."
Tumblr media
Hope you enjoyed it! A like would be appreciated <3
215 notes · View notes
ktheist · 4 years ago
Text
saving grace | 3
Tumblr media
muses. duke!yoongi x lady!reader
universe. arranged marriage / minor traces of magic in history
concept. driven into a corner with the new king, seokjin, offering to marry you off to a prince in a foreign land and a persistent mother who would seize the chance of a lucrative marriage for her daughter, you’re forced with the only other option to secure your freedom ‒ enter into a beneficial agreement with the man who reaped the seeds of war, the duke of cralon, yoongi min.
words. 5.3k
warnings. mentions of war, it’s cliche and cheesy all in one package
index. 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / finale
x
yoongi doesn’t explicitly say it - and you don’t dare inquire as to the reason he’s accepting the circumstances forced into his hands but the more you ponder on it, the more the plausible answer seems to be the cause of your palpitating heart.
“we’ll attend the party together,” his breath had felt warm against the back of your hand but its the callousness of his touch that rooted yourself to the ground.
yoongi is doing this because he can’t let you ruin yourself. call it the gentleman in him. nothing more. nothing less. and because of that, you couldn’t allow yourself to be the one to rope him into a loveless marriage  in the name of politics when it’s been clear that he wants no part in this game of chess.
“leslie,” you speak into the darkness, fingers pulling on the strings that tie the cloak together.
“yes, my lady.” a figure steps out of the shadow in your periphery.
“i need you to pay a visit to the other informant guilds and see if they have something on what the nobles that are to attend my party, have been doing in the last three months.”
not like they’d have anything you don’t but you can’t rule out the possibility that they’d have even the littlest detail that could be of great help.
“three months, my lady?” leslie quizzes, you can’t see her face in the dark but you can just picture her blinking and cocking her head to the side at your prescribed timeline.
three months is a gamble but enough to establish a routine. whether it’s walking by the park everyday and then stopping to chat with a man in black from head to toe once on every 25th. or whether it’s for attending gatherings, only to keep the 16th fully empty.
“yes and prepare a carriage to go to the royal palace today.” with that, the shadow shifts as though bowing.
“i shall let felix know promptly. since you’ve just returned, would you like to take a short nap first?”
your gaze slants to the slightest gap between the curtains that you just slipped through, amber light pouring in a sharp stripe over the floor, “no, i’d like to take a bath and prepare for the day - did anyone come to my room while i was gone?”
“the madam came last night,” the maid informs, hands folding the cloak that she helped took of your shoulders, “but i told her you were sick and wanted to rest.”
“did she believe you?” walking over table, you plop into the chair with a sigh.
“she left after i told her you were asleep.” she disappears into the closet after you wave a dismissive hand, possibly to store the cloak in the secret compartment within the innermost corner of the walls.
knowing your mother, she probably saw through leslie’s lies but it’s not as if it’s the first time nor will it be the last. as long as you made sure to hide your face and avoid any rumors of count ___’s daughter’s sightings in the middle of the night in the rougher part of town, it’s fine.
x
a panting and disheveled jungkook bursts through the towering doors engraved with intricate carvings of a roaring lion and a crown. his eyes widens when they met yours like they usually as though seeing a ghost. you thought his timid nature would go away over time but that doesn’t seem to be the case.
“lady ___!” he calls in a hurry after you walked past him and down the familiar hallway lain with blazing red carpet, “h-his majesty is busy! you have to give the palace a month’s notice for an audience before-”
“jungkook.” the abrupt twirl almost sends the boy smashing into you but he manages to stop just inches away, sighing a sigh of relief that only lives for a split second at your words, “his majesty ordered for the rumors to be spread.”
when you take one step forward, he takes another backwards, “you’re his closest aide so he must’ve told you to do it and not some ordinary maid-”
“n-n-no! i-” he sputters, eyes glancing over his shoulders as though seeking for a knight to call for help but the goddess must be in your favor today because no other soul can be seen.
you’re not sure what kind of face you’re making but you doubt it’s a smile but the fact that all colors seem to drain when he looks at you again must mean something, “it was lady jung! his majesty called for lady jung and after that, the rumors started spreading!”
“krystal?”
a sigh escapes the black haired boy when your feet roots itself into the ground. the jung family had been part of the aristocratic faction who tried to push for their daughter and krystal’s eldest sister to marry the crown prince, seokjin’s brother and heir apparent.
but only those who secretly swear allegiance to seokjin could attain an exclusive invite to the palace and jungkook had explicitly mentioned that it was seokjin who called her over, not the other way around.
“lady ___! please!” jungkook’s cries echo somewhere behind you, almost drowned by the series of questions that begin to flood your head.
“your majesty!” your hands ache from having to push through the oak doors after jungkook orders the knights to stand down at your arrival, which meant they had no obligations to announce your presence nor push the doors open for you, “you’re throwing yoongi and i into a cage full of wolves!”
“oh you two are calling each other by first names now?” the way seokjin's eyes glazes over you does nothing but pour oil to the flames burning inside your stomach, “regardless, i thought we agreed to cease this act of prancing around in the palace like you own the place.”
a thud echoes off the walls as your barely recovering hand slams down on his desk, but judging from how the stack of papers stood still, you doubted it’d made the desirable impact, “if you knew i was lying, why didn’t you call me out?!”
“i can’t say i didn’t fall for it in the beginning but weren’t you the one who told me that information can be gathered and used like a sword?” seokjin’s steel gaze settles on you like a blanket of winter snow.
“that...” thrown off by the your own words used against you, a pause lapses before you manage to speak again, “i may have made a mistake by involving yoongi but this ends here. call off the party i- i’ll marry the 12th prince.”
a scoff.
“to think you swore to be the shield you’re now holding against me because of that brute cousin of mine.”
“my promise remains the same,” you stand straighter, hit by the reminder of your ordeal, “i'll support you for as long as you stay a just ruler but not if you start a war within cearis by this reckless action of yours.”
his eyes bore into you for the longest moment, searching for a hint of your faltered promise. 
there is none. 
to think it would come to this. when you agreed to help seokjin become the king, you knew you have vastly contrasting ideals but the end goal was the same. to bring peace over cearis and end the previous king’s tyrannic reign.
the previous king hadn’t directly committed murder but the increasing tax rate had slowly caused the economy to be sucked dry. the people couldn’t even afford basic necessity and the rich buying wheat and grains and storing them with the intention to resell them once the price sky-rocketed. up until last year, only nobles were able to still live comfortably.
the thought of the hollowed cheeks, tattered clothing and skin and bones of the people in the streets whenever your carriage passed to get to the tea parties and gathering, still sends your body shaking with rage.
and if a civil war broke out between the two factions, history might repeat itself.
“i’d wanted you to rule by my side as my queen.” seokjin’s blunt confession causes you to almost stumble backwards, as though hit by an invisible brick.
“what-”
“but that’s simply absurd.”
he gingerly chuckles at your apparent reaction, “at least pretend to be disappointed ___, i didn’t want it too- the thought repulses me but since we’ve always been so much alike, we could at least make a political marriage work, right? but when you rejected me so directly, i couldn’t help but want to push you a little. i wasn’t going to go through the marriage with the 12th prince.”
“so all that trouble to get the duke to become my fake fiance... was because your fragile ego couldn’t handle being rejected by a woman?”  you force through gritted teeth.
“i-i didn’t say such a thing,” the king’s eyebrows furrow in undue frustration, face reddening, “plus it’s you, we’re talking about. how could i be-”
“your majesty...” a hiss slips out of your mouth, causing the man to physically flinch at the realization of how dire the circumstances are for him. for one there are no windows to avoid assassination attempts but also means he can’t escape you through any other way but the door - assuming he could get past you at all, “you’ve caused duke min and i a great deal of hardships. it’s something money alone cannot fix, do you not think so?”
“c-calm down, ___,” he begins to sputter whilst the table begins to turn, gaze thrown over your shoulder - perhaps, he’s calculating his chances of survival if he made a beeline to the door,“jungkook! jungkook, let him in!”
almost as if on cue, the muted thud of footsteps fill the air before the door swings open. you have absolutely zero interest if it was an assassin he’d prepared beforehand, knowing that you’d barge your way to the palace. with this distance, even an assassin couldn’t get-
“the house of min greets the sun of the kingdom.”
your heels twirl on their own before you even manage to register the deep voice that echoes off the falls, eyes landing on the owner of the silver locks that begins to straighten up after a bow.
“yoongi.” the man’s name falls off your lips involuntarily as he spares you a chiding glance. almost as though he’s not pleased with your rash decisions of meeting with seokjin without consulting him.
yet despite that, he comes to stand next to you, his hand brushing the back of yours. and in his own way, it feels as though he’s saying i stand with you.
the sound of someone clearing his throat brings you back to the matter at hand. seokjin seems to have regained a semblance of his composure. though, he fails to hide the rise of his eyebrows for the briefest moment at the unusually close proximity for two people who claim to feign being lovers. “as you know, the the min lineage has extraordinary senses. i summoned yoongi over to wait for me in the next room but your crassness has delayed the duke’s audience. and since the walls are thin, i don’t know how much he’s heard.”
your lips twitch in contempt.
it doesn’t take long for you to piece two and two together. no noble family has expressly supported seokjin and with the two aristocratic and royal factions’ internal division, you suspect another faction would rise in support of seokjin, the son who the late king never even spared a glance at.
having aided seokjin in the shadows since his time as an outcast prince, you were never told of the other families that shared the same shoes and chose to support him until the time is right to step into the light. you swore to be his shield and the min family had always been known to be the crown’s loyal sword.
you catch yoongi’s deep eyes before meeting the king’s,“so the min family is one of the noble families who supported you as well.”
it isn’t a question but seokjin nods anyway, his eyes now hold a sort of burden that ages him ten years, “i know your reason for supporting me are too far glaring and what i’m asking you requires a great sacrifice that’ll affect your children, but can i count on the two of you for this?”
x
seokjin meant you might actually have to get married to yoongi legally. at the engagement party, you’ll be showing up as supporters of the king and shift the unending feud between and within the factions. those who have been supporting seokjin in the dark will be your allies while those neutral, like what your house had appeared to be, will not need much convincing to join the new faction - the king’s. though, those who are against his forceful succession won’t stand still.
“it’s getting late so we should stop here but i’ll be visiting soon to finish our little talk, your majesty,” you didn’t miss the king’s shoulder line jolting as you shot up, letting a few seconds stretch in suspense before dipping into a formal bow.
“um, that’s quite fine. you don’t have to-” the man’s mouth clamped shut at the glare you shot over your shoulder before trudging out of the room, the click clack click of your heels bouncing off the walls while you faintly caught seokjin stammering out a plea for help to the only other person left in the room and receiving a ‘you dug your own grave with this one, your majesty’.
yet you couldn’t deny the agreeable course of direction you should take to single out the wild flowers from mere weeds being through a garden party. that’s where politics takes place and where one would usually work out connections. halting in your steps, you found yourself letting out a sigh, the chin you’ve kept so high now lowered to the ground.
after this, there will no longer be an aristocratic and royalist factions - only those who opposes seokjin and those who supports him. the first bunch would no doubt go after you and your family since they can’t touch the duke, if you got divorced within five, no - ten, maybe even twenty years of your marriage. though there have been politically arranged marriages that lasts for a lifetime. while some of the couples seem civil to each other, there would always be speculations of their happiness lying in the arms of their lovers outside of their marriage.
your parents are no exception. though they never quite opened up to you about their past or even present. the only time you ever recall your mother’s heart breaking was when the bells of the palace rang across the capital, signaling the previous queen’s demise.
“how could i not have noticed which faction he’s in...” you trail off, staring into the darkened ceiling where the chandelier would have been and the paintings of a great tree that symbolizes the foundation of your house.
“my lady,” leslie’s fluttery voice chirps from somewhere next to you “get up! today is the day for the duke’s formal visit!”
it’s been a week since your visit to the palace and having been driven to a corner yet again by seokjin. for some reason it didn’t bother you as much as the revelation of that the house of min had always been by the king’s side as a loyal supporter.
yoongi had escorted you to the carriage silently. and you would have left without exchanging a word if not for he gloved hand that grasps onto you tightly and the eyes that bores into your soul. almost imploring you to please, say something.
“since we’re pressed for time, i’ll have the contract sent to you to be reviewed in three day’s time,” was all you said.
your ankles are shackled with invisible cuffs. it takes everything in you not to drag your feet as you strut down the hallway with your chin high and shoulder line dignified.
“right,” you murmur to yourself, pushing yourself up only to have your hand dragged by the maid all the way to the bathtub where warm water has already been filled and waiting for you.
the other maids are already waiting for you with dresses in their hands and jewel boxes littered on your otherwise neatly kept vanity, chattering to themselves about how exciting it is for the only and eldest daughter’s official engagement. granted, your mother has been bugging you about the lack of rock on your finger when every other noblewoman would be showing off their engagement ring as soon as the news breaks out in high society.
but when you step out of the room, donned in an extravagant but elegant dress, you did not expect the overflow of people you’ve never seen before walking towards the main parlor that’s much larger than your mother’s and reserved for entertaining guests. the servants who seem to be carrying boxes and wrapped dresses bow at the sight of you.
“leslie, what’s all this?” you quiz the ever smiling maid on your side even though you have a good hunch already.
“these are the duke’s gifts to you, my lady.” there’s a certain tilt in her voice - the closest indication you’d get of leslie being excited.
“gifts?” you echoe.
the plan was for you to review the other’s contract, make necessary amendments and exchange them in secret.
that is, until yoongi sent a letter to your father, to notify his visit and ‘entourage’. but then again, the duke has always had a knack for downplaying important matters. otherwise, you would have caught on to where his loyalty lies.
before the maid could elaborate further, you’re already in front of the parlor and whisked away by your mother as soon as she sees you.
“___!” she grasps your hands tightly, “how i was mistaken about the duke. his grace was waiting for the siren’s heart to arrive from raefetia!”
colored diamonds are especially hard to get due to the different component and temperature required for its formation. the siren’s heart is said to be a rare jewel that was lost after the siren’s lover was killed on land and the diamond that was with him got sold in the black market.
how yoongi got a hold of it, is not entirely a mystery but the impact of the entourage he brought to your manner and the two jewelers who confirmed it to be the real siren’s heart will, without a doubt, spread throughout the kingdom within a week.
“are these all bought by the duke?” you manage to pull one of the workers who you’d confirmed to be from whitlace, into a corner when your mother is busy salivating over one of the many boxes of jewels that seem to sparkle and call for her.
“th-the duke ask for the jewels to be sent to my lady’s manor and pick whichever my lady’s heart desires,” the slight tremble at the mention of yoongi shouldn’t have come as a surprise to you yet it does. he just hasn’t been looking at you with eyes that could kill.
“is your manager here?” you don’t plan to let the woman be ridden with worry any more than she already is.
as soon as she leads you to a tanned woman with an elegant air around her and the finest jewels adorning her ears and neck, you know that it isn’t just the manager but countess wyvner herself who’d come here.
“lady ___, it’s an honor to meet your acquaintance,” she smiles, her deep brown eyes gleaming with a sort of observance fitting for a woman who runs one of the most high end jewelry store in the kingdom alongside her husband.
“countess,” you say after bowing, “thank you for preparing this on such a short notice.”
a slot itself needs booking at least for one month prior, you can’t imagine how much trouble and setbacks in their schedule they’d have to suffer because of yoongi’s whims. you’d only come to a realization that you’d have to legally marry each other last week. let alone have enough time to prepare for such grand proposal.
“on behalf of my husband and i, it’s an honor to serve the duke and future duchess,” she has a sort of pleasant tone that makes the lady in you listen to anything and everything she says.
you let out a low chuckle, “my, that does put me in a difficult situation.”
the countess blinks in surprise, “how so, lady ___?”
“you see, countess, i specifically asked for the duke to not spend so extravagantly for me,” you lament, a sigh escaping your lips, “as the money could have gone to charity work and helping those in need.”
“ah yes, the house of ___ has been well-known for their generosity since your father’s time,” she agrees, as though recalling a long-lost memory.
it takes several more praises and teetering over the fine line of offensive and modest before you can finally convey your wishes for the jewels to be brought back and as a compromise, the countess will leave only the best, hand-picked diamonds for you to at least look at.
not even five minutes after your conversation with the countess ends, the butler approaches you, informing yoongi’s arrival.
“alright, thank you aiden,” you dismiss the butler, eye skimming the mannequins and dresses piled into the room. whichever store these are from, you’lll have to deal with them later, “bring him to mother’s parlor.”
x
“your grace, thank you for coming,” you greet the man with a bow, noting how his eyebrows threaten to pull together at the title yet only silence follows your greeting.
neither of you say anything as the maid sets down the baked goods you requested to be made for this meeting. the smell of lavender fills your senses as you pour the drink into the white teacup with deep violet flowers engraved around them.
“your grace,” that is possibly the last straw when you see the man’s heavy frown, as though the first time might have been a mistake, but the second time couldn’t have been, so you let out a soft sigh, “i shall address you formally for what i’m about to say involves the state of affair of the kingdom.”
when no word of protest seem to come from the duke, you continue, “i trust your grace has read the contract and made the desired amendments on your part?”
as though recalling the purpose of his visit, the man’s eyes flit away from you. it’s expected for him to behave so, especially when all you’d agreed on at the beginning was a simple hoax to trick the eyes of the beholders. 
out of the frying pan and into the fire.
“that... yes.” he mindlessly mumbles, pulling out the contract from the inside pocket of his jacket and placing it in front of you in a manner that told you he couldn’t be bothered with it for a minute longer.
yet if that was truly the case, he could have sent someone to deliver the contract after the review instead of a notice informing you of his visit. the letters on the contract almost seem to blur together as you mull over his reasons for sitting through a one hour ride just to get here until you catch the insignia of twin dragons and a shield.
“your grace,” your heart almost jumps in your throat when you look up from the paper only to meet a pair of crimson ones that seem to already be staring, “none of the content seem to be modified. is there nothing you wish to add?”
contracts are made to give both parties an equal standings. you’d only included your terms which you made sure weren’t excessive but not potentially harming to you in an event there would be a talk of divorce in the future.
“no, there isn’t.” he answers simply, eyes reverting to the brownish golden liquid before hey flutter close just as he nears the cup to his lips.
all of a sudden, you’re brought back to the sunlit office of his. your hands had trembled and your heart had felt like a dead weight was pulling at its strings until the duke pulled you out of that darkened crevice and kissed the back of your hand.
the act alone had been reserved for lovers who’d sworn their souls to the other. but it’d also been done by noblemen in respect for noblewomen of higher ranking. but the fact that you were a mere count’s daughter and he was a duke rendered the latter interpretation null.
yet he’s acting so indifferently to you now.
“your grace, i implore you to take this matter seriously as it concerns not just the ducal house and ___ house but also cearis.”
no matter how prepared you are, there’s no telling what would happen once seokjin’s plan is set in motion. but even if you’re both nothing but chess pieces, your lives worth something. perhaps, yoongi hasn’t much to lose - but you’ve held out this long to avoid being tangled in an arranged marriage. you need a guarantee for your future and if yoongi refuses to pay his due attention-
“___,” the familiarity of your name rolling off his tongue is unsettling yet comforting at the same time, “isn’t everything that caters to your needs and wishes all in there? why are you displeased?” though the color of his eyes reminds you of burning flames, his gaze sends icy shivers down your spine. as opposed to the way he used to search for the secrets beyond the windows of your soul, this time, he seems as though he’s studied every crevice of it.
it takes you a moment to register that he’d read every line of the terms. and it isn’t a question needing mulling over nor do the flood of memories from your first meeting up until now, is unforeseeable. and you couldn’t help the little prick of betrayal that buries itself to the hilt in your heart,“did you know?”
his stare doesn’t falter. almost like a culprit brought to trial and knows of his innocence even though others don’t, “no- you know how secretive the king is but with the way you’d been behaving at the mention of him... i thought you’d been lovers instead of just subject and monarch.”
in other words, if yoongi knew - which he did have his suspcicions, it was because you’d exposed yourself. the realization hits you like a brick as you recall the many times you almost called seokjin by his name and the one time you actually did.
you figured he’d believe you when you said it was because of your house’s just upbringing but suspicions couldn’t just be shrugged off just like that.
“we’re not.” is all you say, your shoulders threaten to sag with the lifted weight yet the noble blood in you forces you to keep your chin up. those deep eyes bore into you. it’s no secret that even the seemingly indifferent duke of cralon would be curious of how you came to be acquainted with the king when he was just a prince.
truth to be told, it isn’t so much as a mysterious tale as it seems to be. your family’s territory doesn’t harbor fertile lands nor is it strategically situated near the shores for a harbor to be built and attract merchants. it’s a bit far off from the capital but not entirely suitable for planting corps either. and because your family’s refusal to join the royalist faction, the previous king had cut off the supplies and funds for your family’s territory.
your father had to buy food from merchants at a high price while you were in charge of distributing  them all to representatives of each family. in the midst of it, at the age of 16, you’d met seokjin. every time you’d see him, he’d donned the same tattered clothes that didn’t seem to fit his smooth, honeyed skin and noble mannerism.
you didn’t question his motives for always being there to lend another hand to distribute whatever supplies your father could get and leaving without accepting so much as a slice of bread. it was some few years later, after you’ve talked to too many people and remember too little of their faces, did seokjin finally told you about his lowly maid mother and the parents she’d left in pursuit of a job in the capital. it took another year for you to realize his high official dad was the king and by then, you’d sputtered far too many insults at the second prince in your fits of rage.
but if you’re being honest, it possibly had something to do with your mother’s tens of hundreds of letters addressed to the palace, pleading for the king’s good graces. she’d attended social gatherings to obtain funds for charities that went to orphanages, managed to allocate budgets for the supplies and still maintain an appearance fitting for a noblewoman. you did help with pointing out which house had the disadvantage you could use and which could be recruited under your fold but it was mostly your mother - a useless information that yoongi didn’t need to know.
“we started getting more supplies and to shift the suspicion of our family’s support leaning towards the new crown, seokjin started distributing more supplies to noble families of neutral standings,” the thought alone warrants a well needed pause as you sip on cold tea, “after he proposed to me and promised to make me queen, i tried my best to avoid letting the two meet especially at banquets held in the palace.”
“that bastard...” a sharp cracking sound hits the air as you watch the tea ripple within the small confines of the now cracked teacup within the duke’s grasp, “...really had the nerve to propose to you, huh.”
“well,” you set the cup on the saucer gently before standing up and walking over the man who watches you with a mix of curiosity as to what you’re doing and subdued rage for the king.
sitting down, you place your hand on his gloved one. it takes a moment  for him to realize the damage he’d done before he releases the poor ceramic and allow you to twine your fingers together. when you meet his gaze, it’s already soften with something you can’t pinpoint as you suppress the rising heat on your cheeks, “i believe seokjin was telling the truth when he said he was doing it because he had to. at that time, he most likely didn’t know of any other young ladies around his age though there’s no telling for sure just who and how many people was already under his folds,” the hard crimson stare does little to unnerve you though they still make your heart restless for a completely different reason now.
yoongi laughs dryly, almost like a swords mater defeated in his own game, “so we’re merely tools for his disposal.”
that, you can’t deny but no matter how deep you’d pondered on the man’s actions and how much you’d have to sacrifice-
“yet we still trust him like blind fools.” you say.
“fools won’t know what they’re getting into before it’s too late,” he rasps.
words of protest bubbles in your throat as his hand falls away from you but the way he stands up only to fall on his knee, makes your breath hitch.
“we’re no fools, you and i,” his eyes that capture you in a garden of red are glaringly contrasting to his fair complexion and naturally soft features, “___, i do not wish to be married to you only on paper.”
x
note. that’s all for the third chapter, hope you guys enjoyed it!
taglist: @ayujmi​
133 notes · View notes