미안하지마 @bookyeom - Tumblr Blog

Jun 22

BITTERSWEET REMEDY - ACT I

𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖ ♔THE CROWN THAT BLEEDS

· · ─ ·✶· prince!jiung x healer!reader ▸ ⌜ 21k ⌟

synopsis — ·✶· Always busy in a whirlwind of his duties, Jiung, you childhood friend, has dedicated his life to serving the crown—ever the loyal and dedicated Prince. Though years have pulled you apart, his visits to your infirmary never ceased. But when you discover the truth behind his increasingly worrying visits, his distance begins to make more sense. Terrified of the unknown sickness taking over and the thought of leaving you behind, he pushes you away even as the feelings you have both buried since childhood begin to surface. Determined to save him, you set out on a journey for a cure that may not exist, all while trying to slip past the walls around his heart. And Jiung must choose between protecting you from the pain of his inevitable loss, or finally letting himself surrender to you.

· · ─ ·✶· nsfw (mdni), estranged friends to lovers, slow-ish burn, angst, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, Jiung has an illness, touch starved!jiung, virgin!jiung, smut, hand job, loss of virginity, passionate sex, oral (f. rec), mentions of death, mentions of blood, almost (?) everyone makes a cameo, probably inaccurate medical things, HAPPY ENDING!

♫Two - Sleeping At Last

· · ─ ·✶· Welcome to TCTB finale :') wow guys I can't believe it's finally the end (not really though stay tuned for us to open requests for the series hehe) But wow this fic took me a month to write, literally finished it yesterday but I'm so incredible proud of my writing in it ahh I don't want to ramble but I hope you guys enjoy and please please please leave a like reblog or comment I will kiss you okay bye :) click here for the listening playlist I made :)

READ ACT II HERE / SERIES MASTERLIST

───────── ·✶· ─────────

“Open up wide. Say ‘Ahhhh’.” You pressed the wooden stick to little Minseo’s tongue to peek inside her mouth, humming pleasantly surprised to find that the swelling in her throat had gone down significantly since her previous visit.

“Looks like she’s almost fully healed,” you mumbled to her mother who exhaled a deep sigh of relief from where she stood beside the examination table. You pulled back to see Minseo looking at you with a wide eyed, hopeful smile that tugged firmly at your heartstrings. You felt sorry for her and the pain she’d endured the past week and a half, though she put on a far braver face than any of the adults you’d treated since the awful sickness spread across court. They childishly moaned and groaned as if the end of the world had descended upon them. The thought brought a small smile to your lips.

You grabbed a piece of candy from a nearby bowl and smuggled it into her hand then leaned in to whisper in her ear, “But just to be sure, I think you could use another day’s rest and a hot cup of cocoa. What do you think?”

You gave her an exaggerated wink that made her burst into a fit of giggles as she glanced at her mother who pretended not to listen. You lifted her from the examination table and set her down, smoothing her hair away from her face with a delicate brush of your fingertips.

“I’ll send over the last few tonics she’ll need and she should be fully healed within the next few days,” you told her mother, your smile widening when Minseo ran to attach herself to her leg.

She gave you her thanks before scooping the tiny girl into her arms and making her way to the exit. Minseo waved her hand enthusiastically at you over her mother's shoulder in parting, and you reciprocated the action gleefully until you noticed the figure leaning against the doorway. Your hand stilled in the air.

Minseo’s mother dropped into a curtsey before quickly shuffling out of the room after Jiung responded with a respectful nod. His head remained lowered even after her departure, his hands shoved modestly in his pockets. You let your hand fall to your side heavily, waiting patiently for him to look up at you.

He could feel your stare burning into his cheek, though it could have been the familiar heat he’d never been able to shake away whilst being near you—even after years of growing up together. Either way, he wished he could have slipped away before you became aware of his presence. Or better yet, returned to just moments ago when he could observe you and relish in your smile and the gentle way you handled your patients, all without consequence.

It was a selfish thought—wanting to be able to absorb the pleasures that emanated from your mere existence without having to give anything in return. It was hard to believe that anyone would be worthy of such a reward; he certainly wasn’t.

So, he lifted his eyes to meet yours.

“Hello, stranger,” you remarked.

Having your gaze on him would have been just as nice, better even, if it didn’t make him feel so off balanced. He smiled politely to mask how it affected him.

“How long have you been standing there?” You asked, while turning back to clean off your station.

“Not long,” He replied, pushing off the door to saunter into the room.

“And to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Jiung stopped a fair distance from you and crossed his arms over his chest. “Can a man not visit his friend for leisure?”

You sanitized each instrument on the bench, raising one up to eye level as you spoke, “It’s not often that you visit me for leisure these days.”

You were right. His visits to you have decreased significantly in recent times. But the way you said it—as a joke with just a hint of something deeper behind it—made his chest sting.

He couldn't help but frown. “You’re making me sound like a horrible friend.”

“You’re not a horrible friend, Jiung.” You put the final instrument down and turned to face him, a teasing smile on your lips. “Bad, maybe, but not horrible.”

He returned it with one of his own, though slightly weaker. He wanted to say something to remedy it, but there was no excuse, so you both soaked in the sentence until eventually you patted the exam table to beckon him forward. “Tell me what’s wrong, Jiung.”

He sat down with a straight back and rested his hands on his knees, his fingers flexing around the bones when you stepped into his space. You looked down at him with warm, steady eyes, offering him a small smile to encourage him to speak, a complete contrast to the sarcasm you’d previously exhibited.

He cleared his throat before he spoke. “I’ve just been feeling very faint lately. You know, dizzy…a bit lightheaded…”

You nodded along, mumbling a quiet, “I’m listening,” as you began conducting your basic tests. You grabbed his chin between three fingers and angled his face towards the light so you could examine his pupils.

It didn’t matter how many times you did it, or how many times your skin brushed his; his body couldn’t seem to get used to your touch. His breath hitched, his skin flamed, and his heart pounded when you looked deep into his eyes to assess their dilation. You had to say his name twice for him to come to.

“Hmm? U-um,” he said startled, taking a deep breath when you released his chin and turned to record your observations in his patient file. “Y-yeah, no, that’s it.”

You spun back to him and pressed three fingers to his neck without warning, right over his carotid to measure his heart beat. You counted the beats in your head, your brows pinching together at the rapid pace.

You checked the pulse in his wrist as well, just to be sure, your eyes flicking back up to Jiung who seemed awfully interested in the plant stationed across the room.

“Breathe in deep for me… and out.”

He finally looked back when you released his wrist to jot down something else in your notes.

“You always have such a fast heart rate,” you commented absentmindedly. “Your eyes are dilated as well. Breathing is slightly irregular. We should work on managing your stress.”

Stress. He nodded in agreement.

He was glad all the signs pointed to that and even though it wasn’t the real reason—at least in this moment—but it wasn't entirely false either.

“Don’t even get me started… It’s a big week. Our future Queen is arriving soon and I just got out of a talk with my sister. She’s been assigned a guard until the festivities are over and she’s not exactly thrilled with the idea.”

One corner of your mouth ticked up in a knowing smirk. “I can only imagine the dramatics that took place.”

Jiung groaned as he recalled the earlier argument. “You’d think she’d finally realize I only have her best interest at heart…”

The reply you had formed died on your lips as you glanced through the many parchments you’d collected from this month's visits with a tilted head—far more than any other time you could recall. The symptoms were more or less the same across the board, an added headache or spell of nausea here and there.

“Hey, you’ve been here more than usual this month.” You shot Jiung a quizzical look. “I’m starting to think there’s something more serious going on.”

He did his best to seem impassive despite the thundering in his chest, scrounging around for any diversion he could muster up in his brain.

“Something serious? Like wha—oh speaking of serious, have you spoken to Taeyang about… everything? I’m worried for him.”

You set the file down on the table and sat beside him with a nod. “Yes, we talked when he returned from his trip to visit her and just the other day. Why? He hasn’t talked to you about it?”

He breathed a quiet sigh of relief when you took the bait. It worked perfectly in his favor, as well, because he’d been meaning to ask you about Taeyang anyway. He shook his head at your question.

“No, you know how he is. He probably doesn’t want to look weak in front of us. Which is pointless, mind you, because nothing will top the time he cried after stepping on and killing that frog.”

“He was nine! And maybe if you all didn't constantly bring that up, he’d open up to you more.” You spoke matter-of-factly, unable to contain the laugh that escaped you.

He smiled at both the memory and joy on your face and casted his eyes downward as you both reminisced on the easier times not shadowed by responsibility.

Eventually when you spoke again, your voice came out somber. “Anyways, he’s not thrilled by the prospect, but, what can he do? His destiny has been written for him.”

Jiung nodded solemnly before saying, “Still, though, it would be better if he liked her, maybe tolerated her at the least.”

You mulled over his words. “Well, I don’t blame him or her, for that matter. That poor girl… being forced into a new family and country. Anyone would be upset.”

The thought made you look over to Jiung curiously. “What about you?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m just assuming you will have to do the same, no? Marry for alliance…” You tugged at a loose thread on your dress, your heart rate spiking as you tried to feign indifference.

He replied without hesitation, “Yes, most likely.”

You’d been listening to Taeyang complain about his betrothal for years—you had not even considered the fact that as a prince, Jiung would have to do the same, as would the rest of the royal family. The fact sent a bitter taste to your tongue. Growing up so close to them, you sometimes forgot exactly who they were in the grand scheme of things.

“You have no issue with that?” You questioned, trying to fish out more information from him. When he shook his head, you pressed your lips together and narrowed your eyes at him, your skin prickling with a spark of irritation at his nonchalance.

“If it benefits the crown, of course I have no issues with it.”

You rolled your eyes to the back of your head. Jiung and his devotion to the crown. It irked you for reasons unknown. It shouldn’t have—afterall he was the second born. He was raised almost as strictly as Taeyang was and the responsibilities of such a title had been drilled into him since he was young.

The difference between the two brothers was that at least Taeyang was able to recognize the unfairness of it all. He complained about and criticized the life that they were born into, while Jiung seemed content with it all, willing to be used as a pawn in the King’s game without any further disagreement. You wished he would just put himself first sometimes and realize that there was more to life than that.

In an attempt to distract yourself from the growing pit in your stomach, you rose from beside him and tucked your hands politely behind your back.

“So you’re just kicking me to the curb, then?” You quipped mischievously.

You heard his confused hum and whipped back around to face him. You tilted your head with an impish grin, eyes wide and innocent.

“You don’t remember promising to marry me when we were seven?”

Your heart soared at the flush that crept across his cheeks as he grimaced and made an attempt to stand and flee the room. You blocked him easily, forcing him back down to the table with a firm push at his shoulders. He tugged at the collar of his coat and met your eyes, before casting them over your shoulder when he saw how delighted you looked at his response.

You squeezed his shoulders once, smiling smugly when his throat bobbed with a thick swallow, his composure barely held on by a thread. His body fidgeted to put more distance between you and him, though he made no actual attempt to leave again.

You removed your hands and turned to your work bench, expertly throwing ingredients together with certainty as Jiung searched to formulate a response.

He wrung his fingers tightly together, his voice quiet and wistful. “You deserve to marry for love, not out of obligation or be forced to marry a prince—or anyone for that matter.”

You were only teasing him, but the seriousness of his words tightened something in your chest. You wanted so desperately to tell him that marrying him would constitute anything but obligation, but you kept your thoughts safely caged in the back of your mind.

You poured the finished tonic in a glass and turned to face him, just barely catching the way he rubbed at his chest with a sullen frown.

Your brows drew together with concern. “Are you in pain?”

He blinked at you, an unconvincing smile plastered on his face. “Not really.”

You moved to stand in front of him so he was forced to look directly into your eyes. “On a scale of one to ten how bad?”

“Like a three—”

“Jiung,” you cut him off with a tired sigh at his dishonesty, but before you could say anything else, he was plucking the glass from your hand and throwing the liquid back.

His face twisted at the bitter taste as he stood and moved past you to set the glass down and peer out the window. “Wow, it’s already midday. I should get going… Thank you for the tonic.”

You didn’t make an effort to keep him this time, watching with dejection as he shuffled to the door, completely dismissive of the turmoil he’d left behind.

At the last second he turned back to face you, his heart sinking as he took in the hurt on your face. “I’ll see you around?”

Your expression went blank and you turned away from him to continue cleaning your earlier mess without a word.

He lowered his head, his gaze fixed on the floor in shame, his shoulder slumping as he clenched his jaw tight. He slipped out of the room, once again leaving you to question just how far the distance between you would stretch.

·✶·

You didn't see Jiung again until a few weeks later at the engagement.

Despite the disappointment from your last encounter, you had hoped to run into him again, or that he’d pay you another visit. He didn’t, and although his detachment weighed heavily on your mind, you did your best to distract yourself—you had more than enough patients to deal with, anyway.

But your mind kept wondering back to figure out where it had all fallen apart. You searched through years of memories and conversations to understand the rift but the deeper you dug, the less sense it made.

If you’d done something, why didn't he just simply let you go. Why? Why did he continue to visit you every few weeks then abandon you as if it made no difference. It was unfair, and you were exhausted by the back-and-forth, so you planned to confront him about it that night.

You slipped into the ballroom discreetly just as the couple of the hour exchanged rings. You ventured carefully into the room, keen on making yourself and any possible interactions as scarce as possible. You were only there for moral support, and judging by the tight expression on Taeyang’s face as he led the princess of the West Kingdom down the stage, it was going to be needed.

You looked around to spot any familiar faces—Jiung was nowhere to be found—and set your sight on the bar across the room. You only made it halfway there when you were stopped by a face you only slightly recalled from a year ago.

They delved into a stream of overwhelming compliments and praises for how you had so miraculously healed them from their sickness (you realized, slightly peeved, that the sickness in question was only a headache) and you nodded your head with a practiced bashfulness before excusing yourself from the conversation.

It happened a few more times, each time your social battery dwindled further and further. Just as you saw the end in sight, a familiar arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you snugly into their body.

You closed your eyes and took a deep, patient breath to prepare yourself to deal with the prince at your side.

“Long time no see,” Keeho’s pompous voice whispered into your ear. “I almost didn’t recognize you not hiding away in your dungeon.”

You pinched his sleeve between two fingers and removed his hand from your waist before stepping out from his clutch. “My apologies, Your Highness. Unfortunately, saving lives does take up quite a bit of my time,” you started, Keeho’s lips dipping at your blatant sarcasm. “Still, it’s no excuse. What ever shall I do to gain back your favor?”

He pouted childishly and huffed out a rough breath before smirking, all too chuffed. You narrowed your eyes at him in question.

“Does your sour tone have anything to do with your secret lover's engagement?”

Oh here we go again. Your hand twitched with the need to thump him upside the head, but with this many people around, you controlled yourself.

With a dangerously calm voice you spoke, “Keeho, just because you can’t fathom being only friends with a member of the opposite sex, that doesn’t mean the rest of us are incapable of being that shallow.”

His smirk dropped and he mumbled, “What about us… we’re friends.”

“Yeah, because I’ve rejected you so many times.”

He snickered and playfully elbowed your side, clearly not offended at all by any of your insinuations. “Hey, I haven’t approached you that way in years…” He trailed off, eyes suddenly fixed on a point across the room. He muttered an, “excuse me,” under his breath before walking away.

You watched curiously as he stopped a maid with his signature smile. You scoffed, full of judgement and exasperation. “Unbelievable.”

Thankfully, you were able to make it to the bar without any further interruptions. You leaned against it tiredly as the bartender slipped a glass of dark red wine in front of you, and you sipped it with a relieved sigh as the bitter liquid coated your tongue. You turned to rest your elbow on the bar to people-watch, more than ready to leave, when you saw a very disgruntled and annoyed Taeyang marching towards you.

“Well if it isn’t the man of the hour—”

You gaped at him when he took the glass from your hand and downed it with one long swig, inserting it back in your still opened palm when he was done.

“Hey! I was drinking that.”

He disregarded your comment with a huff, and you looked to where his fiance was left standing all alone. You caught her eye for the briefest moment before she looked away anxiously, and you frowned, turning to your friend.

“It’s not very gentlemanly to leave your wife all alone during your engagement.”

His nose scrunched in disgust. “She is not my wife.”

“Geez okay…” You trailed off. Then not even five seconds later, “It’s not very gentlemanly to leave your future wife all alone.”

You bit back a smile at his dramatic groan. He ran a hand through his hair haphazardly but didn’t say anything else. Your smile dropped to a grimace; if he was this quiet it must be worse than you thought.

You leaned toward him and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Is she really that bad?”

“I just…” He trailed off. You waited patiently for him to collect his thoughts, rubbing his shoulder to comfort him as best as you could. He stared intently at his hand in his lap, eyeing the ring that sat heavily on his finger with remorse. “This is hard for me too… I wish she would see that.”

He took a deep breath before turning to meet your concerned gaze with his own pitiful one. You hadn’t realized just how much this was affecting him—he looked exhausted with purple shadows framing his dull eyes. Your heart ached and you forced a clenched smile for him to continue.

“As if I would willingly choose to spend the rest of my life with someone that hates me. As if I have any say in any aspect of my future. As if it’s so easy for me to just call it off when I never wanted this in the first place. As if—” He choked on the bitter words and swallowed the thick lump that had lodged itself in his throat. He exhaled a weak breath, shaking his head as he looked to the floor.

He looked so small like this—nothing like the powerful king-to-be that everyone saw him as. What sat beside you was a helpless boy wearing a prince’s costume.

He cleared his throat and raised his chin up high. “Anyway, there’s nothing to be done.”

“Well, have you tried talking to her and explaining your position?” You pressed, the healer in you determined to find a solution.

He only nodded solemnly and rubbed at his eyes, hunching forward to stare absentmindedly out at the crowd. A multitude of questions hung off the tip of your tongue, but you held them back, sensing that the conversation was over and that he no longer wanted to speak on it.

You slipped your hand from his shoulder and gnawed at your bottom lip before saying, “Well this is depressing,” in hopes of lightening the mood.

Taeyang cracked a tiny smile and you mirrored it with your own pleased one, happy that you could soften a small part of his anxieties.

“Thank you for coming… I know these things are grueling for you.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “The most grueling part so far was speaking to Keeho, so the rest should be a walk in the park.”

He chuckled at your pettish tone. “Is he still convinced we’re secretly in love with each other?”

“He’s delusional is what he is,” you grumbled then quickly added on, “Speaking of your brothers, have you seen Jiung anywhere? I can’t seem to find him.”

He straightened his posture and cocked his head at you, his smile turning smug.

“You mean speaking of ‘secretly in love with each other’.”

You stared at him deadpanned and unammused, which only made his smile grow. “I’m serious Tae, I’m worried about him. He’s come to visit me more than often this month...”

Taeyang’s expression sobered as he stared at you with pointed eyes. “He has?”

“Yeah…”

He flicked his eyes away when yours bore too deep into his own, his jaw tightening, deep in thought. You felt something in your stomach drop at his sudden silence.

“Is everything okay?”

He only looked back at you when the music in the ballroom changed, his eyes carrying a mix of regret and hesitance.

“It’s time for the first dance.” He stood and smoothed down his suit while you took deep breaths to calm your spiraling thoughts and the bad feeling deep in your gut at his off behaviour.

“Hey,” he started, waiting for you to look at him before continuing. “He told me a while ago he was heading outside for some fresh air.”

You nodded blankly at him as he cast you one last smile that was meant to reassure you, before disappearing into the crowd to find his betrothed.

Your pulse thumped loud in your ears, drowning out the orchestra and cheers as a cold shiver shot down your spine. Taeyang clearly knew something you weren’t privy to; he hadn’t even answered your question.

You raised from your seat and rushed out the door.

The cool air outside did little to calm the uncomfortable heat brewing in your body. Your legs moved restlessly through the garden in search of Jiung, the churning in your stomach growing heavier with each passing second.

You squinted into the darkness until your eyes could adjust, and from the corner of your vision, you saw something moving. You approached slowly until a figure came into focus, hunched down with their hands on their knees. They rose slowly, shoved something in their pocket, and finally turned around.

Jiung’s face came into view, only half lit by the moonlight, but you could see how pale he looked even from steps away. He jerked back a step when he saw you—not expecting for you to be standing there—and he felt his mouth grow dry in fear at what you might have seen.

When you first called out his name, it was with relief, glad to finally have him in your presence after weeks of separation. But the comfort was short-lived, replaced by a growing alarm at his jittery state.

He took a few hurried steps back to put some distance between you, stumbling clumsily in the process, until a wall of bushes blocked his path. All you could do was stand there, your chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.

He was still trying to avoid you. Even now, with nowhere else to go, he was looking anywhere but your face.

“Jiung,” your voice came out shaky even as you tried to steady it.

He smiled at you, thought it was tense and half-hearted. “What are you doing out here? It’s cold. Let’s go back inside.”

He made a move to return to the castle but froze when you blurted out, “How long are you going to avoid me?”

“I’m not avoid—”

“I haven’t seen you in weeks. I barely see you once a month, and even then, you’re always busy with something,” you interjected, frustration coating every word. “I don’t get it… We used to be so close. W-We used to tell each other everything. I don't know when that changed or why you keep pulling away from me. And now you’re this… ghost who only shows up with a headache or fever and a few polite words only to disappear again. Do you understand how much it hurts? To know something is wrong and have you just… shut me out?”

He was silent, his gaze fixed on the grass beneath his feet like a child being scolded.

“So don’t stand there and tell me you haven’t been avoiding me,” you whispered, voice broken and exhausted from months of trying to pretend that everything was okay. "Is it me?"

His chin snapped up as he took a singular, apprehensive step forward. "No! No, you did nothing wrong."

"Then what?"

You glimpsed down at his lips when they opened and closed in search of a response, or maybe a deflection, but nothing came. That's when you noticed it—a darkness coating the inside of his dry lips.

Your eyebrows drew together and you crossed over to him on instinct. You raised your hands to cup his cheeks, hesitating when he flinched, but pressing forward regardless. His whole body went rigid under your touch, but you didn’t care, not when you brushed his lip with your thumb and it came away smeared with blood.

"It's nothing," he muttered and jerked back to break out of your hold. He fumbled in his pocket to pull out a crumpled beige handkerchief and raised it to dab at his mouth. "'Must have bitten my lip—"

You snatched the cloth from his grasp and spread it open to find it soaked through with large stains of the same crimson. Your own blood ran cold at the sight as you stared at it, then back at his startled face.

"W-Why are you bleeding?" You whispered, your voice strained with dread.

The silence stretched between you as you waited, fighting against every urge to turn on your heel and walk away in fear of whatever was the cause of this. That same fear kept you rooted to your place.

"I'm fine," he eventually whispered. "Can I have that back?"

You clutched it tighter in your hand until your knuckles turned white and your vision blurred. The heavy weight in your chest ignited into a red-hot fury at the nerve of him.

"Stop lying to me."

He recoiled at the hostility in your voice; you'd never spoken to him like that. He searched your eyes for the gentleness he was accustomed to, but found nothing but temper.

You forced yourself to draw in a slow, steady breath, turning away from him to calm your racing heart. You tried to rationalize his actions and silence, tried to understand them and give him the benefit of the doubt.

But you were so tired of understanding.

You turned to face him again, the last of your composure barely held together. "Please," you whispered. "Whatever it is, just tell me."

He looked down, his throat bobbing with a hard swallow, as the war within him raged on, his hands clenching and unclenching at his side.

You pressed your trembling lips together, fighting to keep the sob caged in. You waited, and waited, and waited. Just as you exhaled and turned to leave, he spoke.

"I'm sick," he said, voice steady despite the nausea he felt. "I have been for a while."

The confession hung in the fragile air between you. You waited, barely breathing, as you tried to find your voice. Then the healer in you surfaced, pushing past the fear to seek answers.

"Okay… sick with what? For how long?"

He hesitated, and you said his name again, soft and reassuring, and he finally gave way completely.

"It's a rare illness. I first started showing signs of it when I was thirteen."

Thirteen. Your heart stopped.

That was when it began, the distance, growing too slowly for you to even notice until it was too late. You blamed it on growing up and his princely duties.

But no, all this time, all these years, he'd been suffering in silence while you watched, oblivious and wondering what you'd done wrong.

"What are you taking for it?" You pressed on.

"It doesn't matter," he said, voice frail and dull.

You huffed out a sharp breath through your nostrils. "Of course it matters, Jiung. I need to know how to—"

"There's no cure."

You didn't register the words at first; they made no sense. The sound of his voice reached your ears, spreading a new numbness through your blood.

"I don't understand."

His eyes glazed over at your small and distant voice. He let out a hard sigh and closed his eyes before opening them and speaking despite the pained expression on your face. "I've been taken to the greatest physicians on the continent. They said the illness was first recorded decades ago. Only a handful of cases have been documented and they've all…" He winced at the stream of tears flowing down your face, his voice dropping to barely a whisper. "Anyway, no cure has been found."

You weren't sure when the faint ringing in your ear began, but it intensified as you worked to process the information.

Your legs were moving before your brain could catch up and you walked past him, your hand snagging his wrist to pull him along with you.

"Hey—where are we going?"

"To the infirmary."

He said your name but you dismissed it along with his grip fighting to escape yours.

"We have to get started." Your voice was distant and detached, your mind racing to come up with a solution. "We have to start from the beginning. You have to tell me everything and—"

He dug his heels into the ground and tugged firmly at your hand until you spun around to face him. He said your name again, slow and laced with heartache, "Stop."

"Maybe if we cross-reference the symptoms with similar illnesses then we can find a pattern and—"

He raised his voice, shouting so you could hear him through the hysteria. "I've already seen the best!"

"Well you haven't seen me!" You cried out with a gasp, fresh tears soaking your cheeks as your hand trembled around his wrist.

"This is why I didn't want to tell you."

The words felt like a slap in the face. You stared at his paled face and dim eyes, and something in you shattered.

"So you were planning on keeping this a secret from me until…" The horrid word clung to your throat, but you forced it out. "Until when, Jiung? Until you died?"

He winced at the word and looked at you with pity. His silence was all the confirmation you needed.

You couldn't help but laugh, a small breath at first that bubbled into a mix of sobs and manic, broken laughter. You pressed your hand to your mouth to stifle them, but it was no use, the years of neglect manifesting within the sound.

"Wow." You dropped your hand, quickly sobering up to sneer at him. "I knew you were selfish, but this is a new level of cowardice."

His eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "Cowardice?"

You hummed, the sound mocking.

"I kept it from you, for you," he said, his voice rising with desperation. "Because I know how you are… I knew you'd exhaust yourself searching for a cure that doesn't exist. I don't want you going through that!"

"What about your pain, Jiung?!" You snapped. "Look at you! You don't think this affects me? You don't think watching you fade away hurts me?"

He grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled roughly before throwing his hands down to plead with you. "Can you please just let it go?"

"Why?" You shook your head at him in disbelief. "Why are you being like this? How could you give up so easily? How could you just accept this?"

"Because I've lived with it for years. I've accepted it. And you need to, too."

"No."

The word was absolute and final. You turned your back to him to wipe away your tears. When you looked at him again, your eyes were burning with a new determination. "I don't care how many healers have given up. I don't care that you've given up. I am not giving up on you."

He called out your name but you were already walking away.

"We'll start tomorrow," you called over your shoulder.

"Please—"

"Goodnight, Jiung."

You didn't turn back. You walked from the garden, past the ballroom still bustling with energy, and didn't stop until you were safely in your locked bedchambers where you could finally fall apart in peace.

·✶·

The first rays of dawn had only begun to filter in through the window when the pounding at his door came.

Jiung jolted awake at the sound and groaned roughly into his pillow, his limbs heavy with exhaustion and mind still latched onto the remnants of the dream that was slipping from his memory. The knocking intensified and he reluctantly dragged himself out of his warm bed, one hand pressed to his throbbing temple as he stumbled across the cold floor.

He cracked the door open and winced when it revealed you on the other side. Your posture was straight and rigid, your lips pressed into a tight, thin line, eyes hardened and serious. A stack of parchment was tucked beneath one arm with a quill held in your hand. Jiung wondered how long you’d been awake for as he blinked at you with one eye still sleepily closed.

“Excellent, you’re awake,” you said while shoving past him to enter the room.

He turned slowly, still trying to process what was happening with bleary vision as you beelined for the curtains, yanking them wide open. The space lit up and Jiung flinched, raising an arm to shield his sensitive eyes to the light.

“Mmgh—” He grumbled as he shuffled back to the bed. “Why are you here so early?”

“There’s no time to waste. We need to get started.”

He didn’t have the energy to argue. He collapsed face-down onto the plush mattress with a muffled groan, nuzzling back into the warmness.

You dragged a chair to his bedside, the legs scraping against the floor with an awful screech that caused him to bury his face deeper into the pillow.

You sank into the chair and opened your mouth to speak until you made the mistake of looking over at him. Your lips closed and for a moment, you allowed yourself to study him.

His hair was a disaster—dark strands sticking up messily in every direction. His cheek was smushed against the pillow which caused his slightly parted lips to pucker out. He had one hand curled near his face as the morning light kissed his skin, illuminating him in its soft glow. He looked more at peace than you’d seen him in a while.

His nose suddenly scrunched up—you almost missed it—before settling back to its resting state. It was unfair. How adorable he looked. You wanted to reach out and brush the hair from his forehead, to let skin meet skin and trace his features with your fingertips. You wanted to crawl into the bed and fit yourself snugly under his hand and hold him tight while pretending that the world outside didn’t exist. But it did.

So you rolled your eyes instead to distract from your pounding heart.

“Okay, I’m going to ask you a series of questions,” you announced, your voice flat and direct. “You only need to answer them.”

You waited for his confirmation until you realized that his breathing had evened out and his shoulders were rising and falling steadily.

“Jiung!”

He snapped awake with a startled hum, his head lifting from the pillow, eyes wide and frantic. “W-wha—’m up.”

“You fell asleep.”

“No I was just.” He paused to rub his eyes. “Was resting my eyes. Can’t this wait till later?”

“No,” you shot him down with a glare.

He huffed out an exhausted but defeated breath and rolled onto his side to prop his head on the pillow. Eventually he let his eyes flutter open to meet yours.

The dark circles were even more noticeable in the light than they were in the dark of yesterday. You almost felt bad from how tired he looked, but then you remembered why you were angry in the first place and you looked away from his eyes before they could distract you.

“Question one,” you started, your quill hovering anxiously over your parchment. “When did you first notice the symptoms, and what were they exactly?”

He answered each and every question you hurled at him for the next forty minutes that passed. He didn’t complain, try to resist, or convince you to give it up like he had the previous night. Though, you noticed the way he hesitated on certain details, his eyes jerking away when the reality he faced was too sensitive to tell. He omitted the grueling details in an effort to soften things so you wouldn’t worry, but you did anyway.

By the time you finished your interrogation your hand was cramping and Jiung had sunk deeper into the pillows. You reviewed the notes to make sure you had everything you needed and then finally, you lowered your quill.

“That should be enough for now.”

You hurriedly collected your things and just as you were about to stand, a small flutter of concern that you couldn’t quite suppress materialized in your chest.

“How are you feeling today?”

The question hung delicately in the air between you. Jiung’s heart both swelled and ached in tandem from your compassion despite the hurt he caused you. In the end you would always be the healer—always putting others before yourself. He mustered up the best reassuring and genuine smile he could, albeit a small and tired one.

“I feel fine.”

And he meant it, he truly felt fine and you must’ve believed him because you nodded once stiffly and stood to make your way to the door until he stopped you.

“Can I ask you a question?”

You nodded, his eyes fixed on the rumpled sheets instead of your intense stare.

“Are you still mad at me?”

You barely heard him, his voice a low whisper that tickled your ear and sent the hairs on the back of your neck standing. You nearly winced at the guilt and regret packed into those six words, but you couldn’t find it in your heart to soften your response, not with how tired and heavy you felt since last night's revelation.

“Yes.”

His jaw flexed as he traced patterns into the blanket, his eyes glistening with tears he refused to let fall. He’d known pain his whole life, had endured it quietly and without complaint. But this… This was worse. This was a thousand times worse and if he was able to, he would much rather suffer through the worst his illness had to offer in exchange for never having to see you so cross with him again.

You turned to leave and once again his voice kept you frozen in place.

“I’m sorry I kept it from you.” Despite his voice cracking, he continued. “But you understand why, right? You understand why I did it?”

You clenched your eyes shut and took a deep breath.

“Yes,” you said again. “But that doesn’t make it okay.”

“What will?”

Your eyes fluttered open to look at him. He was leaning forward in anticipation, fully ready to do whatever it was you’d ask of him. Apologize a thousand times over, beg on his knees, promise he would never keep something like that again—all he needed was the word.

But would that be enough? What could possibly make up for a decades worth of lies and distance and deceit?

“I don’t know,” is what you finally settled on.

You knew it wasn’t what he wanted to hear so you tried to smile. It was broken, a fragile thing that barely held its shape and Jiung returned it with one of his own, equally shattered and lost.

You slipped out of his room, the parchment crinkling in your tight fist. You blinked away the burn in your eyes, straightened your spine, and started walking towards the library. You had better things to do than cry. There was research to be done. Books to be read. A cure to be found. And you would find it.

You had to.

·✶·

The library became your second home.

Days morphed together in a fuzzy haze of turned pages and flickering candlelight, the corner table you’d claimed barely visible beneath the mountain of books and loose parchment. If you weren’t in the library you were either treating patients—the universe seemed to be on your side because they were far and few—or administering some come concoction to Jiung.

He complied without complaint despite the foul tastes that made his nose wrinkle and stomach churn, or the pricks of needles at his skin. He was busy, but he never turned you away. It wasn’t like you ever stayed long. Just long enough to record your findings then you were gone and it was as if you’d never come in the first place. He wanted to ask you to stay longer more than once, but ultimately decided if he wanted you back, he had to let you come to him when you were ready, even if it left him dejected and helpless.

You were on your third book that day, your back aching and eyes burning from focusing too long, when Keeho found you after hours of searching.

His shadow fell over you that you willfully ignored until he grew impatient.

“Hey, I’ve been looking for you everywhere an—”

You held up a single finger to your lips without looking up from the page you were on, descriptions of a rare plant known to cure ailments too enticing to look away from. Keeho snapped his mouth shut and crossed his arms as he waited, his foot tapping against the hardwood floor.

“Are you almost—”

“Shh.”

He narrowed his eyes at you to no effect as you turned a page with a delicate swipe of your wrist, your brows furrowing in concentration as he shuffled restlessly before you.

“I seriously need—”

“Shh.”

“Oh my Gods—”

“Shh!”

The book was ripped from your hands, Keeho slamming it shut with a loud slap before tossing it to the side and knocking over a tall stack of books that crumbled to the ground.

Your icy glare shifted from the pile to him as he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, mumbling, “I didn’t mean to do that…”

You sank back in your chair with gritted teeth as he diverted the conversation.

“How long have you been here?”

You squinted out the window to observe the angle of the sunlight. “Maybe six hours. Give or take.”

His eyes nearly bulged from his skull. “Six hours?” He fully took in the sight that surrounded you, the hoard of books and empty ink jars, the cup of tea that had surely gone cold hours ago only half drunken. Then, the hollowness under your eyes and the crease that had formed between your brows from hours of concentration. “Have you eaten? Have you slept? You look ghastly.”

“Wow, you really know how to charm a girl,” you said with blank eyes, already reaching for another book. “Just get on with whatever you came here for. I have important things to do.”

When he didn’t respond right away you were fully intending to scold him for being so annoying, but you stopped when you noticed how nervous and hesitant—compared to his usual shameless bravado—he was.

“I need a favor,” he finally managed.

You tapped your chin in thought, long enough for him to start squirming in anticipation for your reply. You cracked open the new book in your hand and shook your head. “No.”

“No? What do you mean, no?”

“I mean no. N-O. No.”

“But I haven’t even told you what I need yet!”

“I don’t care, I’m mad at you guys.”

“You guys?” Keeho’s head tilted to the side like a confused puppy. “Who’s ‘you guys’?”

You finally looked up and fixed him with a flat stare. “You and Taeyang. For not telling me about Jiung.”

The color drained from Keeho’s face as his eyes darted around everywhere but your face. His mouth opened, closed, then opened again. “He told you?”

You scoffed at him and returned to your reading.

He only stared at you for a long moment before picking up a loose piece of parchment, finding your notes on the effects of various minerals on blood disorders, and understanding dawned on his face.

“Is this what all this is about?” He gestured vaguely at the chaos surrounding you. “You’re trying to… what? Find a cure?”

You clenched the book tight in your grasp, your body tensing at the way he said it, like you were fighting a losing battle. You nodded stiffly, regardless.

Silence passed between you and when he spoke again, his voice was softer. “Then you must understand how scary it is to be losing someone you love.”

You hung your head low until your hair draped over your face as you whispered, “What’s your point?”

This time he gently coaxed the book from your fingers and carefully set it down as he spoke. “There is a maid here. Her father’s dying. I was going to ask if you could ride out to their village and see if there’s anything to be done.”

You crinkled your nose. “Why do you care about a maid’s father?”

But suddenly you remembered the engagement ball and his smile as he approached the maid and it all made sense.

“Really, Keeho?” You said unimpressed.

“I care about her,” he said with such conviction, his cheeks flushing as he rubbed the back of his neck, that you actually believed him. “It’s hard to explain, but she’s different. And I really need to help her.”

You thought it over for a long moment. You were sure plenty of workers in the castle had sick family members at home, but you couldn’t possibly treat them all, so why was she any different? He met your eyes and you saw a raw desperation you’d never seen before in him.

“I’ll do it,” the words left you accompanied by a small, tired smile. “Just find out which village, and I’ll leave before the week’s end.”

Keeho exhaled, the weight lifting off his shoulders. “Thank you. Seriously, thank you.”

He pulled out the chair across from you and dropped into it with the grace of a sack of potatoes, kicking his feet up on the table.

“What are you doing?” you frowned.

“Keeping you company.”

“I already said yes, Keeho. No need to get on my good side.”

“We’re friends,” he said simply with a shake of his head. He looked from the books again, to your ink-stained fingers, then to the dark circles under your eyes, and his smile turned triste. “I want to stay.”

Your heart swelled as he settled into the chair. You ducked your head and pressed your lips together to hide your grin and returned to your book, the melancholy in the atmosphere shifting to warmth.

“You really think you can save him?’

You looked out the window to the pink and orange sky as the sun began its descent to the horizon; you pondered his question. Your stomach gave a sudden jolt, the fear that you’d been pushing to the back of your mind surfacing in the solitude of the library. What if you couldn’t? You weren’t oblivious; the doubts had always been there. But you never let yourself simmer on them for too long. It couldn’t even be an option… but still. What if you couldn’t?

“I don’t know.” It was the first time you said it out loud. “I have to try, though.”

Keeho nodded slowly. “You mean a lot to him, you know.” He paused to choose his next words carefully. “I know things have been tough between you two, but…”

“I know.”

You wiped the tear that had slipped from your eye and forced them back to the page below you. The letters blurred for a moment, then returned to normal.

·✶·

Keeho’s thunderous snores drove you out of the library not long after, and when he’d shown up the next day only to fall asleep again, you woke him up with a crumpled ball of parchment thrown at his face and politely banned him from keeping you company again.

He grumbled something under his breath about ingratitude and good deeds never going unpunished, but shuffled out with minimal protest.

You made decent progress in the days that followed, no breakthrough yet, but you were hopeful and decided that it was a good time to make the trek to the maid’s village.

You were barely two feet in Taeyang’s office when he snapped without looking up from where he was furiously writing. “What now? If this has anything to do with fabrics or papers or bloody fonts then—”

He looked up and saw you standing in the doorway, taken aback, and his shoulders sagged with relief.

“Oh, thank the gods. It’s just you.”

Your face twisted in question as you took in his disheveled appearance. The buttons of his collar were open, his hair was mussed like he’d ran his hand through it a million times, and there was a wild look in his eye that made him look like he was teetering on the edge of insanity.

“Trouble in paradise?”

He raised a hand before you could say anything more. “Don’t even ask.”

You wisely decided to heed his warning, seeing as you had more pressing matters to attend to.

“I’m only here to let you know that I’ll be riding out to a nearby village tomorrow morning, in case you notice I’m gone. I’ve instructed Seojin to look after any of my patients while I’m away.”

Taeyang stood from his chair, shoving his hands in his pockets, as his eyes narrowed into slits that would have made anyone else cower away in fear.

“What’s with the sour tone? And why do you look so tired?”

“Only because I’ve been researching a cure for Jiung,” you said matter-of-factly. “Day and night, for the past several days. No big deal.”

Taeyang froze. His mouth fell open, the color drained from his face, and you felt like you were seeing both Jiung and Keeho again. You continued watching the panic manifest across his face.

“All you Choi men are the same,” you mumbled listlessly.

“When did he tell you?”

You dropped into the chair opposite his desk with a heavy sigh, the exhaustion from the past week finally catching up to you. “At the engagement after our talk. I found him coughing up blood.” You crossed your arms snugly against your chest and fixed him with a searing glare. “Which, by the way, you knew about. You knew something was wrong and you said nothing, Tae.”

Taeyang had half the decency to look ashamed. “I’m sorry but it wasn’t my secret to tell.”

You huffed, your glare faltering slightly. “Yeah, whatever. Doesn’t even matter now.”

“In my defense,” he added carefully. “I’ve been trying to convince him to tell you for years. If there is anyone that can help him, it’s you.”

You threw your arms in the air with a sound between a squeal and an exasperated huff. “Finally! Someone is confident in my abilities.”

Taeyang smirked with a shake of his head and leaned against the table to look down at you. “Give him grace. After years of being told he was a lost cause, false hope would only make him feel worse.”

You hummed to show you were listening, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Taeyang cleared his throat, eager to change the subject.

“And why are you visiting a village?”

“One of the elders is sick, I want to help him.”

He nodded slowly, accepting the explanation without any further pushback. “Alright, I’ll prepare a carriage and guards for you.”

You pushed yourself out of the chair and shook your head. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll be faster on my own.”

“No.”

“Tae—”

“I wasn’t asking,” he said firmly, sounding more like a future King than your friend. “It’s dangerous times, we all go out only with protection. Please, or else I won’t hear the end of it.”

You leered at him with narrowed eyes and pursed lips. “From who? Jiung?” Before Taeyang could get a word in, you continued, “I don’t really give a damn what would make him feel better.”

Taeyang sneered at the irony of your statement. You were, after all, the one dedicating every waking moment to finding a cure for the very man you claimed to not care about. But he was too fed up with your childlike behaviour to point it out.

“Do it for me then.”

You groaned unnecessarily loud. “Whatever. Have them ready at noon.”

You swiftly walked out of his office before he could get another word in.

The next day, noon came and went, and the carriage had still not left. The horses stomped their feet impatiently as the guards shifted their weight from foot to foot, waiting for you to show up.

When Jiung walked past and noticed their antsy behaviour, he stopped to question them.

“Who are you waiting for?”

They all dipped their heads respectfully. “Your highness,” the driver spoke. “We’re waiting on the healer. We were supposed to depart an hour ago for a village visit, but she’s late.”

A village visit? You hadn’t mentioned anything about that to him. In fact, you’d stopped by his chambers just that morning to administer a new concoction. His stomach curdled into a fit of tight knots, his heart stinging from the lack of communication from you, though he figured he deserved it.

But a new jolt of worry shook him. You were never late. You were incredibly meticulous and punctual, almost to a fault. If you weren’t here that meant something deeper than oversleeping or losing track of time was going on.

He checked the infirmary first, then the library, then the greenhouse where you often frequented to collect herbs, and nothing. You were nowhere to be found. There was only one other thing he could do to check.

“Have you seen her?” He pressed Taeyang with a tight voice.

Taeyang looked up from his paperwork with a groan. “You know, most people wait for me to say ‘come in’ before bargi—”

“Have you seen her?”

“She must have left for the village already.” Taeyang shrugged, turning back to his documents.

Jiung shook his head, his hands clenching at his side in annoyance at his brother's unbothered tone. “Well the carriage that was supposed to take her is still here.”

Taeyang’s pen stilled mid-word. The confusion on his face was quickly replaced with a dawning realization. Then he grumbled, loud and unfiltered.

“She must have gone by herself.”

“What?” Jiung said, panicked. “What do you mean, by herself?”

“Now that I’m thinking about it,” Taeyang started, looking off to the side as if he were replaying his conversation with you in his mind. “She did say she was going to leave in the morning, but to prepare the carriage for the afternoon.” He paused and looked back to Jiung who was quietly seething at the stupidity of his brother, and Taeyang grimaced apologetically.

“She could be in danger!” Jiung’s heart was pounding now, his thoughts invaded by different scenes of you and a thousand terrible possibilities. “Gods, Taeyang! Why didn’t you make sure she—”

“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Taeyang said with a passive wave of his hand. “The village isn’t that far. A half day's worth of riding and she’ll be there. She’s capable, Jiung. You know she is.”

Jiung gave a dismissive shake of his head while he impatiently asked, “Where is it?”

“What?”

“The village,” Jiung’s voice had hardened, leaving no room for argument. “Show me.”

All Taeyang could do was sigh and shuffle the documents away from his desk to point down at a small cluster of cottages nestled at the edge of the eastern forest.

“Here. It’s about a straight shot down the main road, a few turns here and there and—”

Jung wasn’t listening, already moving toward the door.

“Are you going after her?” Taeyang called out, amused by his brother’s dedication to the healer. Jiung didn’t answer, already out in the hallway stripping off his formal coat to change into his riding gear.

·✶·

You were too lost in your own head to hear the impending stomps trail in from the distance. You stared at nothing ahead of you, trying to piece together different theories or solutions from your weeks of research as you moved forward on autopilot. And when you finally registered the pounding noise and whinny of another horse, Jiung had already blocked your path.

Your horse startled, jerking sideways as you braced your body to not fall off the saddle before your hands clenched the reins.

“Surprised to see me?”

Surprised you were as you blinked, dumbfounded and only half believing that he wasn’t a figment of your imagination. “How did you catch up to me so quickly? I left hours ago.”

He neglected to answer, his jaw clenched tight, eyes burning with anger. “Do you have any idea the risk and danger you’re putting yourself in, traveling alone on these roads?”

And just like that, your indifference towards him returned with his condescension. Before you could retort, he continued.

“You didn’t even hear me coming. You were completely oblivious—”

“If you’re just here to scold me, then I’ll be on my way.” You tugged the reins and steered the horse around him, your body tense and eyes fixed straight ahead. Behind you, he muttered something under his breath—you only caught the word stubborn—then he fell into step with you.

You glanced over your shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“I’m coming with you.”

You abruptly stopped and scoffed. “Go back, Jiung. You should be resting.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

You turned your body to fully face him, eyes wild and threatening. “I can take care of myself.”

He nudged himself closer to you, lowering his voice to a whisper as his knuckles turned white from gripping the reins too hard. “I don’t doubt that, but if anyone found out you’re a healer, if they knew how valuable you were, they’d—”

A deep, heavy pit formed in your stomach. Valuable. Was that why he’d come? Because your loss would be detrimental to the kingdom?

“I’m not exactly shouting ‘free checkups’ to every stranger I pass,” you persisted.

The frustration in his face chipped away as his Adams apple bobbed with a tough swallow. His tongue darted out to moisten his dry lips as he stared deep in your eyes. “What about a pretty girl traveling alone?”

Any other argument died on your tongue. Heat flooded your cheeks as you fidgeted with the rope in your hands, your eyes darting to look past his shoulder then around at the forest surrounding you, flitting back to him. Now you saw the worry come to light that had nothing to do with your job or capabilities and everything to do with his fear of losing you. Your shoulders sagged, the fight drained out of you.

“Come on then,” you murmured, turning your horse back to the road. “So we can make it before nightfall.

You fell into silence beside each other, stealing looks when the other wasn’t paying attention. Jiung looked less dreadful than he had when you first found out about him, the past weeks of pestering him seemingly doing something positive for his health.

“You’re looking better.”

He grumbled, his nose wrinkling. “Yes, well, that would be because of all the disgusting things you’ve made me ingest.”

The comment caught you off guard. You felt bashful, wondering if you’d come on too strong and aggressive with your treatments, too demanding, too—

“Thank you.”

Jiung scratched the back of his neck, his eyes fixed off into the distance.

“I don’t think I’ve properly thanked you for all you’re doing for me. I know how much time you spend in the library now.”

You rolled your eyes and pouted, your lip jutting out as you mumbled something colorful under your breath about a certain snoring prince who couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

Jiung’s lip twitched, his expression remaining earnest. “I just… it’s not lost on me. And although it still makes me feel guilty, I just want you to know how much it means to me. And that I’m not taking it lightly.”

It took everything in you not to jut your foot out and knock him clean off the saddle. Because he was doing so well, then all your hopes came crashing down at the mention of his guilt—he still thought you were wasting your time. The gratitude and appreciation was useless if he still believed there was nothing to be done. He didn’t believe in you—a bitter taste that you wished you could wash away filled your mouth.

You felt like a broken record trying to make him understand.

When minutes passed and you still hadn’t said anything, Jiung shifted anxiously in place.

“I know things have been tense between us, and you’re still mad at me but—”

“You say that as if I can just turn it off.” You bit your bottom lip to stop it from quivering.

“I hate feeling this way,” you whispered. “I don’t want to be mad at you.”

“Hey.”

His voice was so gentle as he willed you to look at him. He was watching you with a crestfallen smile that made your heart twist.

“I know,” he said softly.

You cleared your throat and looked away. The horses moved on and the silence resumed, though it was more comfortable now.

“I’ve missed this,” Jiung said after a while, voice tinged with nervousness. “Just… being around you.”

“Me too,” you exhaled.

For the rest of the ride you let yourself pretend that everything was okay, and allowed for his warming presence to chase away the cold worry in your stomach.

You arrived at the village as the sky turned orange. It was small but charming, filled with cottages and dirt roads and children playing happily in the fields. You approached the first man you saw, pulling back your cloak to reveal the royal seal you’d kept concealed. You quickly explained the situation as he guided you to the maid’s family home.

The door opened to a jolly woman whose face turned weary at the sight of the seal, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.

“Has anything happened to our daughter?”

You offered her a gentle smile. “Actually, I’m here to see her father. I heard he’s very ill, and I’m a healer. I’d like to help if you’ll allow me to.”

She opened the door wider for you to enter.

Inside, the cottage was small but well kept. There were two young girls sitting on a tiny couch with books, the woman’s husband sitting on a chair near a crackling fireplace.

He looked worse than you’d expected. His skin was sallow, his breathing slow, eyes sunken in and slightly yellow. You crossed the room and knelt beside his chair, your voice soft to not startle him. “Hello, sir. I’m here to help you.”

His eyes flicked toward you, confused but hopeful.

You turned to Jiung. “Can you grab all my supplies from the horse?”

He nodded and left the house and by the time he returned with a multitude of bags in hand, you were deep in conversation with the family, all while working through the man’s symptoms.

He laid out everything on the table, his focus captured by you and the way you spoke to them, fully in your element. He’d almost forgotten what that looked like.

You were so gentle and patient with them, never condescending. You listened to their stories with genuine interest and praised them for their hard work as you held the man’s hand and checked his vitals, your touch careful and kind. They warmed up to you almost instantly, taken by your charm and compassion.

He was deep in his admiration when the older woman turned to him. “And who’s this with you, my lady?”

Jiung opened his mouth to speak, but you cut in smoothly. “He’s a guard.”

The woman studied him for a moment, her head tilting to the side. “Well, aren’t you a handsome one,” she said, her voice warm and reminding him of his own mother. “You must be popular with the ladies?”

Jiung’s cheeks flushed pink. “I—thank you, ma’am.”

The two young girls erupted into giggles behind their books, whispering about his red face and pretty eyes, as the blush spread to his neck.

You caught his eye across the room and raised a single, teasing eyebrow, laughing when his expression turned mortified and he quickly busied himself with re-organizing your supplies.

You worked late into the night even as the girls and their father slipped off to their rooms, leaving only you, Jiung and the mother awake. You tried convincing her that she could go to bed too, but she was adamant on keeping you company.

When you were confident in the remedy you’d crafted, you filled the syringe as the mother stared at the long needle with wide, curious eyes.

“What is that?”

“It’s a needle. You pierce the skin and inject the medication directly into the bloodstream so it works quicker.”

She nodded along, amazed by the new technology that would have never made it to their village without you.

Jiung watched you step into the fathers room with sleepy, half lidded eyes and when you returned, the mother was waiting with bated breaths.

“I’ll need to stay a few days,” you told her, packing away your supplies. “To monitor the effects and see if the treatment is working. If it is, I’ll leave you with enough to continue it on your own.”

She bursted into tears and before you could react, she’d thrown her arms around you, pulling you into a crushing hug.

“Thank you,” she sobbed into your shoulder. “Thank you, thank you. You’re our miracle. An angel sent from the heavens. I didn’t think—”

You calmed her as best as you could, offering your comfort and reassurance as she pulled away to wipe her tear streaked cheek.

“I hate to ask, but is there somewhere we can stay?” You glanced back at Jung who was almost asleep, slumped against the wall.

The woman’s face lit up. “Of course! You can stay in our daughter's room since she’s at the castle.” She took your hand in hers and led you to the room as you harshly whispered Jiung’s name, who mumbled out a confused “huh?” before following.

The room was modest with a single bed, dresser and chair. The woman grimaced as she looked between you and Jiung. “Unfortunately, this is all we have. I can wake the girls—we’d just have to push the beds together because they are quite small and—”

“There’s no need for that. This is perfectly fine.” you said firmly, not wanting to cause her any trouble.

She hesitated, her eyes flickering between you and Jiung with a question she was too polite to ask, then she nodded and slipped out the door after thanking you again.

The silence she left behind was deafening. You and Jiung stood on opposite sides of the small room, avoiding each other's gazes as you waited for the other to speak first.

“I’ll sleep in the living room,” Jiung spoke abruptly. “O-on the couch.”

“The ‘couch’ is half your size.”

“Maybe the floor.. It looks…”

“Uncomfortable.”

He exhaled sharply. “Okay, then what do we do?”

You set your bag down on the dresser, turning away to conceal your burning face as you spoke calmly, “We’ll just share the bed.”

His eyes went wide. “S-Share?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time we shared a bed.” You focused to steady your face as if your heart wasn’t two seconds away from exploding out of your chest.

“Yes, when we were children. That’s completely different…”

“It’s really not a big deal,” you pouted, lips turning downward at how adamant he was to not sleep beside you, until his next response surprised you.

“You’re right.” His voice came out strangled. “You’re right. It’s fine. Totally fine.”

“That settles it then.”

You reached for the laces of your corset and began undoing them. Behind you, a mouse-like squeak escaped Jiung as he shuffled to the door. “I’ll wait outside while you u-um—” He cleared his throat. “Get changed. I’ll be outside. Waiting. Take your time.”

The door quickly closed and you exhaled, pressing a hand over your racing heart. You quickly changed into your nightgown and slid beneath the quilt, close to the wall, closing your eyes and trying to slow your breathing. The exhaustion from the day's events caught up to you and before you knew it, you were drifting to sleep minutes before the door opened.

Jiung peaked inside to make sure it was okay to enter, and he let out a breath of relief when he saw you already sleeping, the last of the candle casting a shadow of your figure onto the wall in front of you.

He quickly changed, keeping his eyes steered clear from you in an effort to distract himself from the flutter of butterflies swarming his stomach. He blew out the candle and carefully pulled the quilt back to slip into the bed beside you, careful not to jostle the mattress.

The bed felt smaller now that you were both in it and he was pressing himself as close to the edge as possible, his back to yours. He could feel your skin ghosting across the narrow space between you, mere inches away from touching. He clenched his eyes shut to ward away his overactive thoughts, but with your scent clouding his mind, it was useless. Because all he could think about now was reaching out to touch you.

The ferocity of it surprised him. His fingers itched to reach out and brush the hair from your neck, his spine aching to curl around your warmth, to press his chest to your back and bury his face into your shoulder.

He craved for your hand to take his, for your fingers to run through his scalp, for your lips to press onto his skin. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been touched, save for the clinical press of your fingers to his pulse. He longed for the caring caresses and brushes he hadn’t felt since the death of his mother. When had someone last held him?

He couldn’t remember.

He’d been so careful to hold everyone at arms length, he hadn’t realized how starved he’d become. A decade of distance and pulling away and brushing off the concern from everyone around him. But now with you so close to him, he realized just how much of a fool he was.

His hand twitched again at his side again, and he gripped the sleeve of his shirt tight in his fist. He lay still, aching with a hollow hunger, and let the sound of your breathing lull him to sleep.

·✶·

You weren’t sure how long you’d been awake. It could have been minutes or hours, but all you knew was that time had lost all meaning the moment you opened your eyes and found yourself facing Jiung.

At some point in the night, both your sleeping bodies—unguarded, uninhibited, and free from pride—had turned to face each other, seeking what they’d unknowingly been craving. Your hands rested between you, the only contact coming from your overlapping pinkies.

The fear that he’d wake any moment was miniscule compared to the desire you had to just study his features. The straightness of his relaxed brows, free from worry. The charming arch of his nose. His lips, slightly parted, soft and pink. He looked so peaceful and unburdened and you wished you could freeze time to exist just like this.

Your hand was reaching for him before you could stop it, fingertips brushing over his temples until you were trailing a finger down the side of his face. He shifted and your blood ran cold as you stilled and begged for him not to wake.

He didn’t, only turned his head slightly and pressed his cheek further into your palm, nuzzling into your touch. His pinky finger flexed over yours, curling to lock them together.

You let out the breath you were holding. You allowed yourself one more minute to exist with him, counting down the seconds before you slipped your hands away and slipped out of bed despite the pull in your body begging you to stay.

By the time Jiung woke it was well past noon. When he emerged from the room you were sitting with the older couple as you explained the next steps of treatment. When you saw him, a smile rose to your lips and the older woman was on him before you could say anything, ushering him toward the small dining table as she fussed over him and made sure he had everything he needed.

You watched with your chin propped on your hand as he asked why you didn’t wake him.

“I thought you deserved to sleep in for once.” You leaned back in your seat and crossed your arms. “Plus, we have a long day ahead of us.”

He slowly slurped the hot stew he’d been given as he asked, “What do you mean?”

Your smile turned sheepish and apologetic and soon after he was done with his meal, he found himself trekking through the village, laden with heavy bags full of your supplies. An unfortunate cold had run through the poor village and you figured your visit was perfectly timed so you wasted not a moment and helped the best you could, trudging from house to house as Jiung followed behind you.

By midday his muscles were screaming at him but despite the pain, he didn’t complain and even brushed your aiding hand away when you begged him to let you help carry some of them. You grumbled at his stubbornness but didn’t push further and only slowed your pace to match his flagging steps.

By the day’s end you collapsed into the bed with similar groans of relief. You were happy to find the father’s condition had improved significantly and that you were able to get through most of the houses.

You tucked in on opposite sides of the bed just as you had the night before and similarly, you woke up to find yourselves turned over, hands fully intertwined.

The next day was slower with fewer houses and patients and by the final morning, you were certain the old man would recover fully with the new medicine as you showed his wife how to administer it.

You were most pleased with how things had shifted with Jiung. The anger you’d been carrying towards him melted away, eroded by the days of companionship and the feeling of actually having him back beside you.

With not much else left to do on your last day, you found yourself just wandering around with Jiung at your side, enjoying the fresh air and the rare luxury of not having to attend to anything important.

You passed by a group of children playing soccer, your eyes glinting as you watched them kick the ball and laugh so hard that one of them had fallen to the ground. You looked away with a shake of your head but couldn’t help but constantly turn back to them, a longing present in your stare.

“Do you want to play?” Jiung’s voice broke you from your daze.

Your eyes went wide, a timid excitement lighting up your features. “Do you think they’ll let me?”

He was severely close to melting into a puddle at the adorable uncertainty in your question, worried that a group of village children might reject you.

“Of course they’ll let you,” is what he said when he really meant I have no qualms with knocking any kid to the ground that dared to refuse you. But mostly, he just wanted to see your happy, giddy smile.

You realized you were worried for nothing when they excitedly cheered and argued over which team the “big person” would be on, tugging you this way and that as you looked back at Jiung with a grin so bright it nearly blinded him.

He settled on a nearby picnic bench and was appointed as referee, a grave mistake because the score was lost on him entirely. If he had a sword to his throat and knowing the score meant life or death, he’d gladly meet an unkind fate if it meant being able to watch you like this.

You ran haphazardly across the field with your skirt hiked up so you wouldn’t trip, hair flying messily in the wind as you bellowed and kicked the ball into the goal. The children on your team shrieked as you scooped one up into the air, spinning her around in victory. He watched it all with a grin that reached his eyes and an aching fondness that made his chest feel too small for his swelled heart. This was the you he’d been missing, unburdened and effervescent.

By the time the moon rose and the children’s parents had called them home, you stalked over to him, out of breath and delighted. You collapsed on the table top beside him, your chest heaving and cheeks flushed red, remnants of joy sparkling your eyes.

He handed you a glass of water he’d fetched and you downed it in one go before collapsing backward on the table, your arms spread wide, still trying to compose yourself.

“You should’ve joined,” you said breathless and giggly. “That was so fun.”

Jiung smirked as he casted his eyes up to the stars above them. “No, thank you. Last time I was around you and a ball, you shot it at my head.”

You burst out laughing at the memory, clutching your stomach as it squeezed painfully from the force of your joy. “Fair enough,” you wheezed before sighing and sitting up. “Fair enough.”

Your laughter faded away and you lazily dropped your head to rest on his shoulder, disregarding the way he tensed for a moment. You looked up at the sky as well, tracing the constellations you could find as the words spilled out.

“I’m glad you came with me, Jiung.”

You felt his chin brush your head as he looked down at you. “You are?”

You hummed and swung your feet, missing the way he tried to hide his barely-contained giddiness, his lips twitching upward as his stomach did somersaults.

“And I’m sorry,” you continued quietly. “For making you feel worse when you’re already going through so much. Truthfully, I think I was more angry at myself. It was just easier to be mad at you I guess…”

He subtly shifted you off his shoulder so you could face him properly as he frowned. “Why would you be angry with yourself?”

He waited for you to collect your thoughts and when you spoke again, your voice was smaller and disconnected. “I was supposed to be the person who knew you best, wasn’t I? All the signs were there, but I didn’t dig deeper to find out what was wrong. I let you distance yourself when you were just scared. I wasn’t there for you.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You’re not allowed to blame yourself.”

“Jiung—”

“No. You did nothing wrong. You—” He took a deep breath. “You can’t help someone that doesn’t want to be helped, no matter how hard you try. It was my decision, and you had nothing to do with it.”

You tried to process the words, but something wasn’t making sense. “Then why now?”

He looked at you, questioning.

“Why are you letting me help you now if it’s useless?”

He let out a breathy laugh. “I tried to stop you but you wouldn't listen.”

You rolled your eyes and leaned forward to rest your elbows on your knees, eyes fixed on the grass below while he continued, his voice dropping to a low cadence.

“I’m sorry, I want to feel differently but I’ve been preparing to meet death for years now. Every new year I’d watch the fireworks go off and wonder if it would be the last time.”

You wrang your fingers together tightly as he continued.

“And every single time I was around you, all I could think about was how devastated you would be to lose me. I couldn’t bear the thought of being the cause of your grief and pain.”

“But it’s not your decision,” you cut in sharply. “You don’t get to decide that for me.”

“I did it for me.” Selfish as ever.

“It would still hurt!”

“Maybe. But you’d get over it quicker.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“You would.”

“Gods, Jiung!” You blazed back to face him. “What will make you understand? You have no idea how much I wanted you to come back to me. I never stopped missing you for a single second when you were pushing me away. And no offense, but you did a lousy job of it!”

He could only blink foolishly as you told him off.

“I mean, honestly. You could have cut me off completely. Mind you, I would have preferred that—then, maybe I could have gotten over you. But no—” You drew out over a troubled voice. “Instead, you continued to visit me and see me and leave me wondering what went wrong. So give it a rest. Because I don’t care. I don’t care if being with you will hurt me. I’d suffer through a lifetime of pain as long as I’m by your side.”

You hadn’t realized how close you’d gotten. Somewhere in the heat of your argument, you’d leaned in until your noses were just inches from touching. You were shaking as you held yourself back; Jiung’s eyes were glassy, his breathing shallow.

“How could I ever stay away from you?” He whispered.

If you weren’t so focused on him, you would have missed the way his eyes flicked to your lips, quick as lighting, before he continued.

“I tried so hard.” His voice cracked as he swallowed the lump in his throat. “But I couldn’t. Every time I gave in, I’d promised it would be the last time. But I kept going back. Why… why did I keep going back?”

He sounded so desperate for an answer, to make sense of his behaviour when you both already knew exactly why he too, couldn’t let you go.

Your hand rose, slow and careful to not startle him, until it brushed his cheek. He flinched back—a quick jerk of his head—but you pushed forward anyway, unwilling to be swayed by his fear, and you pressed your palm fully against his hot skin.

You quickly realized just how much he’d been waiting for you to do so when his cheek sank into your touch like it was shelter on a stormy day. His eyes fluttered closed, the tension in his posture releasing when he leaned forward to chase more of your touch. His lips parted with a slow breath as he prepared himself to lose absolutely everything to you.

“I know,” you whispered.

Your noses brushed, your lips ghosting over his cheek, barely touching as he fidgeted forward. Your finger traced the curve of his bottom lip before you pressed your own to his when he parted them further.

It was delicate, a hint of uncertainty, but familiar in a way that felt like coming home after a long journey, like your lips had always known the shape and feel of his. It was gentle and testing and so painfully tender, you couldn't bring him close enough. Your lips remained locked until all the oxygen left your body and you had to pull back for a breath.

His eyes were still closed, scared that if he opened them you’d be gone and this would all be a dream. But he needed to see you, needed to see if you were just as ruined as him so he opened his eyes, the tears clinging to his lashes and catching the light like diamonds.

You were looking at him with a depth he’d never felt. You parted your lips to speak, to put into words how affected you were, but there was no word strong enough. You were sure you could have searched millions of dictionaries and learned hundreds of languages and it still wouldn't be enough.

He lost all restraint and pulled you back into him. Your lips pushed recklessly against one another as he cupped the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair, his other hand wrapping around your waist to pull you closer. You didn’t part for a second, stealing breaths between kisses until your lips were swollen and raw.

You edged forward with a grip on his thigh until he had an arm braced behind him on the table to keep himself up, your kisses turning impatient and rough. All you could think about was how much you hated him.

You hated him because kissing him was the single best thing you’d ever felt and it was his fault that you’d been deprived of it for so long. So many years, months, days, hours, minutes, seconds wasted, that you could have lived with his lips pressed to yours. And you didn’t know how much time was guaranteed. So you kissed him like it would be the last time—because it very well could have been.

He took it. Took everything you were giving him.

One of his hands found yours, his fingers trembling as they wrapped around your wrist. He pressed your palm flat against his chest, right over his heart so you could feel the wild, frantic pounding beneath your fingers. The proof—if you needed any more—of what you did to him, how much he wanted you, how desperately he’d been holding back all these years. How alive you made him feel despite everything.

He wanted you to feel it. He wanted you to understand. He wanted to give you everything he could offer, every piece of himself—he would never deprive you again.

But you really needed to take a proper breath. Kissing him made you feel unimaginably dizzy and you felt like you were seconds from passing out. He wouldn’t let you. He chased your lips, finding a new home in your mouth, greedily latching on, passive to the knowledge that he was the same man pushing you away just days ago.

You were only able to separate when you slid a hand to the nape of his neck, gripping the strands of hair to pull him off. A small sound escaped him, something between a gasp and a whimper that tested your restraint to not ravage him right there on the table.

His face was flushed, his lips wet, swollen and pink. When he opened his eyes, they were muddled, the tears blurring the dark heat of his gaze. His hand was still gripping yours against his chest, his heart still hammering for you.

The weight of what this meant for him struck you. The self-imposed exile from touch and comfort and love withering away with just a brush of your palm. His deprivation finally being healed.

His chest was still heaving, his fingers twitching against your hand as his eyes kept dropping to your lips like he was stuck under a spell.

You tugged his hand and stepped down from the table. “Come on.”

He followed you without question, letting you tug him along back to the house. You snuck back in, padding silently to your borrowed room.

As the door shut behind you, you began to undress. Jiung turned around, the flush on his cheek darkening like clockwork, though he didn’t step out. He didn’t want to be far from you now.

You slipped into the bed as you had the previous nights, facing the wall, as Jiung quickly changed and slid beneath the quilt, facing you, waiting for you to do the same.

His pulse raced nervously as he waited, contemplating if he’d done something wrong. Was he too much? Had he ruined everything with his desperate, starving kiss? He closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing and accept that maybe this was all you could give tonight, and that it was more than he deserved.

But then the sheets rustled and you were nudging yourself into his arms. You fit yourself between them, tucking your body against his chest so naturally—his whole body lit on fire.

You took his hands and wrapped them around you, settling them on your waist and back. You buried yourself deep in his embrace, your cheek pressing against his chest, your breath warm through the thin fabric of his shirt.

He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. All he could do was hold you and calm the shaking of his arms as they curled around your frame. You let out a soft, contented sigh, your body growing heavy and relaxing against his.

Jiung lay awake for a long time, savoring it as much as he could before you’d have to return to the real world tomorrow. For the first time in years, he didn’t feel like a ticking time bomb or a lost cause. He just felt like a man holding the woman he loved, and he decided then, that he’d try harder to live for you.

·✶·

The first thing Jiung did when he woke was reach for you. His arm swept across the mattress, expecting to meet your warmth but his fingers only brushed cold sheets.

His eyes snapped open to the vacant spot and his heart swelled with panic. His mind began spiraling, conjuring up every irrational thought he could muster.

Had you woken up early to leave before he noticed? Did you regret everything that happened?

He scrambled out of bed and messily pulled his clothes on in record time before rushing out of the room and through the front door.

He stopped in his place to observe you standing in the morning light by the horses, packed and ready to make the journey home. He let out a relieved breath and scolded himself inwardly. Of course she didn’t run, you idiot. He couldn’t believe that his insecurities had driven him this far into thinking you’d do something so opposite to your character.

But the feeling in his heart didn’t go away, it only morphed into a different kind of nervousness as he approached you, hesitant on how to act in light of last night's events. His mouth felt dry as he attempted to conjure up a sentence, his mind blanking, his brain turning to mush.

Then you were turning around to face him and in his panic, he blurted out the first thing he could think of with hopes to avoid confronting what happened between you.

“I-I could have helped you pack everything away!” His voice came out louder than intended which caused his cheeks to heat up while he cleared his throat to continue. “It must have been tiring carrying all those bags alone. You should have woken me.”

You walked towards him, looking around to verify that there were no wandering eyes, then raised yourself to your tiptoes, cupped his cheek in your palm, and pressed your lips to his.

He went rigid, his whole body locking in place with his arms pinned firmly to his sides. His eyes remained open and wide, unsure if this was really happening. But it felt so real, your soft lips causing a vigorous thump to pound in his chest that made him feel so unbelievably alive. Just as he was beginning to process it, his eyes fluttering shut, you were pulling away.

“Are you ready to go?”

He blinked dumbly at you, his hand twitching to brush over where his lips were still tingling so that maybe he could capture the feeling and relive it.

From behind a curtain in the cottage window, the older woman watched the exchange with a hand pressed to her mouth, smiling to herself, before letting the fabric fall back into place.

As soon as you returned to the castle, a horde of awaiting officials descended upon Jiung, demanding his attention for the mountain of business he’d missed during his absence.

As they pulled him away, he craned his neck back to meet your eyes over the crowd. He looked so dejected, eyes all grim and lips pressed into a thin line that you nearly laughed.

You gave him a reassuring smile and a small wave goodbye that he didn’t look convinced by, still unready to part from you. But when duty called, he had no choice but to answer.

You found Seojin to review everything you’d missed and thankfully, nothing important came up. Before you knew it, you had slipped back into your usual routine and life at court—patients, research, experimentation.

Except now there was a new starry-eyed addition. And Jiung was everywhere.

You saw more of him in a single week of being back than you had in the entire previous year. They were subtle instances at first that you wouldn’t have thought twice of if they hadn’t become so frequent. You’d find him on walks at the same time as you, grabbing a late dinner from the kitchen the same time as you. You even ran into him more in the hallways than you should have—because what business could he possibly have on this side of the castle—though you suspected it had something to do with the way you’d brush your fingers along his whenever you’d passed each other.

The infirmary visits had escalated, as well. It was when he was on his seventh headache in the past three days that you called him out on his bluff. Despite the embarrassment, he couldn’t stay away, that much was obvious.

All it took was a soft hand caressing his neck and a few gentle words to convince him that it was okay to just show up whenever he wanted, no excuses needed.

Now, he was bringing you your morning tea just the way you liked it and organizing the medicine cabinets for you that you’d been neglecting—the list of varying acts of service growing exponentially by the day. It was his special way of showing you he cared, since he was too apprehensive to show you in the way he really wanted to.

That was probably your favorite part—how endearing his embarrassment was. How, despite his flushed face and anxious doubts that he was coming on too strong, he continued to appear at your side. It was as if there was a secret driving force that he was defenseless against, pulling him to you.

It was strange how much the tension had shifted from brittle to exhilarating. You felt it almost tangibly in the air between you. You could also read it as clear as day on Jiung, because he was not subtle at all, not with how often his eyes dropped to your lips.

Because he craved not only your presence, but you. He wanted to touch you again, wanted to feel the warmth of your skin caress him. He craved the electrifying jolt from your breaths mingling while your lips connected, no matter how dizzy it left him. And Gods, he was aching to look into your eyes after just to see you look back at him with an affection so encompassing—he wanted it to ruin him.

He cursed whatever it was in his body holding him back from letting him do so, which only meant you had to take control into your own hands.

It started as a reward of sorts for his compliance with all the pestering he’d undergone at your clinical hand. The first time you mixed up a new medicine for him to take since being back, you pressed a small kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Same time tomorrow?” You’d asked him with a knowing smile.

He nodded back mutely, too flustered to speak.

It became something to look forward to. Sometimes the kiss landed on his cheek, sometimes on his nose (that one left him positively squeamish), sometimes fully on his lips if you were feeling extra bold. Each time his composure crumbled more and more under the simplest of touches.

Eventually, a kiss became two. Two became three and three turned into long, lingering presses that left you both breathless. And he was slowly but surely becoming accustomed to it. He’d rest his hands on places you’d instructed him to without guidance now—your waist, your hips, sliding up your back.

You certainly couldn’t get enough of the taste of him or how gently he’d hold you with his big hands; especially the soft sounds he made that he always tried to hold back, but never could. You were most thrilled to see the way his whole body seemed to light up under your touch, years of deprivation making him achingly responsive to even the lightest contact.

It made your work easier, having such a cooperative subject. And it gave him a front-row seat to just how hard you were working for him.

He took note of your long work hours and how often you were bent over books late into the night.

One night he’d been trapped in meetings all day, his distracted mind constantly shifting back to you. The moment he was free, he sprinted through the corridors, with an excited, boyish grin on his lip. He couldn’t wait to see you and tell you about his miserable day and hear about yours and maybe steal a kiss at one point or another.

But when he pushed open the library doors and made his way to your usual table, he found you slumped over, fast asleep. Your cheek was pressed against an open book, your hair fanned across the pages, a quill still loosely clutched in your hand. The candle beside you was on its last light, barely illuminating your exhausted face.

He leaned against an adjacent bookshelf to just watch you and take the scene in.. This girl—this stubborn, brilliant, impossible girl—who was willing to go to the ends of the earth for him. What a fool he’d been.

He crossed the room and slid his arms beneath you, lifting you up from the chair. You stirred against his chest, a crease forming between your brows.

He stilled, then whispered, “Are you awake?”

“If I say yes,” you mumbled, eyes still closed, “Are you going to put me down?”

He grinned bashfully to himself. “No…”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and tucked yourself into his chest, your face pressing into the curve of his throat. “Good.”

He carried you all the way back to your room and by the time you’d arrived, you’d fallen back to sleep. He laid you gently in your bed and drew the blankets up over you, hesitating for a second before leaning down to press a tender kiss to your forehead, his heart racing when you smiled in your sleep.

And it had randomly dawned on him one day that he hasn’t had an episode since the engagement ball, specifically since you’d dived into all your research and testing. He experienced no bloody coughing fits, rarely any dizziness or headaches. All the symptoms that had plagued him for years had begun to fade. He was looking better too. The color had returned to his cheeks, the light to his eyes. He carried himself differently, with his shoulders squared back and his chin held higher. He was finally starting to believe it was working.

Though, if he were truly being honest, he was more convinced that it had more to do with you than with any tonic or remedy. You were a cure on your own.

Regardless, he hadn’t felt this good in a long, long time.

In fact, he craved you so much, he could barely stand it., Every night he lay awake in his bed, staring at the ceiling, counting down the hours until he could see you again. He welcomed the restlessness with open arms if it meant the image of you remained in his mind.

But one night, it became too much. He was grateful for all you’d given him thus far, but since that last night in the village, he couldn’t get the feeling of you pressed against him—the way you’d nudged his arms open to fit yourself against his chest—out of his thoughts.

His body moved before his brain could comprehend what he was doing, and suddenly he was at your door, knocking softly before he could lose his nerve.

Just as he was about to turn away, you opened it, your hair a tangled mess, eyes squinting to ward off the dim light from the hallway. “Jiung? What—’s everything okay? Do you feel sick?”

You were suddenly alert and before you had the chance to worry, he interjected.

“Yes—I mean, no I’m fine, I just—” He swallowed hard, trying to very unsuccessfully piece his jumbled thoughts together. “I couldn’t sleep. And I was thinking, um, actually, it’s stupid. I shouldn’t have come, I’m sorry, I can go back, I just thought maybe—”

He cut himself off with a frustrated huff, his ears burning.

“Can I sleep with you?”

You didn’t say anything, you simply reached for his hand and tugged him into the room.

You climbed back into the bed and opened your arms in invitation, waiting as he stood there frozen and disbelieving of his luck. Then, he climbed in beside you, letting you tug him down until his head rested against your chest.

You wrapped your arms around him, one hand combing through his hair as he melted against you with the tiniest breath of pleasure. He listened to your heart, counting the irregular beats.

“Your heart is beating so fast,” he murmured, fighting against the drowsiness.

“You make me nervous.”

His heart swelled with pride, joy, disbelief that maybe he affected you just as much as you affected him. He nuzzled deeper into your chest and was asleep within minutes.

·✶·

The day was an unusually slow one for Jiung. It seemed like for the first time in weeks he had no meetings or urgent correspondence. It was only natural that he sought you out.

He found you (unsurprisingly) in the infirmary mixing up a concoction of something he was too afraid to ask about. It was none of his business anyway, he was simply there to take whatever it is you’d give him.

When you finally noticed him hovering in the doorway an excited smile spread across your face.

“Perfect timing,” you said, setting down the vial in your hand. “I think I’ve finalized one of the two options I thought would be most successful.”

He didn’t need any convincing; he sat obediently in front of you on the examination table, watching as you aspirated the syringe, lips still curling in discomfort at the sight of the needle even after being poked and prodded by you for days.

He rolled his sleeve up like usual and let you tourniquet his arm.

“Hold still,” you mumbled while you disinfected a patch of skin on his inner arm.

He focused on your face as the needle pierced his skin, observing the focus in your eyes and the way your lips parted in concentration, and it was over before he knew it. You undid the tight knot at his bicep and pressed a piece of cotton to the tiny bead of blood that welled up, turning around to write something in your notes, paying him no mind.

“That hurt,” he grumbled, his frown deepening when you still didn’t turn around.

“What do you want me to do, kiss it better for you?”

His eyes bore into the back of your head, his stomach tying itself in knots. “...can you?”

You took your time in turning to face him, an are you serious etched on your face.

For good measure, he scrunched his nose and let out an exaggerated wince of pain, clutching his arm to his chest.

You sighed, feigning annoyance despite the smile that tugged at your lips. Reluctantly, you walked back to him, carefully maintaining his eye contact. You lifted his arm with both hands to your lips, tipping your chin to look at him through your lashes, and pressed a kiss to the smooth skin beside the injection sight.

You dropped his arm and turned to walk away, gasping in surprise when his arm shot out to wrap around your waist, pulling you back to stand between his parted knees, your hips flush against the edge of the table.

He was already breathless, his eyes glazed over with what you could only describe as lust.

You arched a singular brow at him. “What?”

He struggled to speak, all the bravery he had gone into pulling you back to him. He hadn’t planned anything past that.

“Let me guess, does it hurt here too?” you taunted, raising a finger to run down his parted lips.

He nodded, pressing forward an inch when you pulled it away, his eyes locked onto yours.

You didn’t mean to tease him—well, you did, but only so that he would come to you. You leaned forward, your lips hovering a hair’s breadth from his, his breath hitching.

“How much?” You whispered.

His mouth fell open in a silent plea. You dropped your hands to the table on either side of his thighs, caging him in and leaning in just enough to drive him crazy. You tilted your head the other way, your lips brushing his cheek as you waited for him to speak.

He trembled beneath you. His hands dug into his knees, trying his best to suppress the whimper trapped in his throat, but it escaped anyway, faint and desperate.

You leaned in again, your lips grazing the shell of his ear. “Ji.”

His whole body shuddered at the nickname, his eyes wavering shut. You hadn’t used it to address him in years, and he hadn’t realized how much he missed hearing it until now. It triggered something in his body, causing a ripple effect of warmth to spread through every inch of him.

You leaned back to him, letting your nose graze against his affectionately. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you,” he whimpered, the words exploding from his chest.

You pulled back just enough to fully meet his gaze. “Well, I’m right here.”

Fuck it.

He tilted his chin down and captured your lips with his. It encompassed all your past kisses, sweet, desperate, and hungry all at once—but amplified to one hundred. You smiled against his mouth, taking the opportunity to slide your tongue against his when he made a surrendering, broken sound. You cupped his blotchy cheek with one hand, the other tangling in his soft strands as he melted into the touch.

He gripped your hips hard, tugging you further into him until it became a free-for-all. You sucked his tongue between your lips, swallowing his moans as your hands drifted to grasp at his shoulders and chest to make a mess of his clothes, until you wrapped one lightly against his throat.

You trailed wet kisses down his jaw to his neck, reaching uncrossed territory. His head fell back with a ragged whine—every inch of his skin you touched causing his body to jolt anew.

It was thrilling to discover just how sensitive he really was; no matter where your tongue brushed—behind his ear, over his Adam’s apple, down to his collarbone—he let out shattered noises of pleasure until his fingers were gripping you hard enough to bruise.

You pulled away, thinking that would be the end of it like your usual contained makeout sessions, but then his legs twitched on either side of you, and his body edged forward, unconsciously seeking more.

You looked down at his lap, and there, straining against his trousers, was a very obvious, very hard bulge.

You licked your lips, practically salivating at the sight of what a few minutes of kissing did to him. He was watching you carefully, his eyes holding a mixture of dazed desire and mortification.

“Ji,” you purred. “Are you hard?”

He whimpered and nodded, his hands tugging at your waist needily.

You placed a hand on his thigh, feeling the muscles jump beneath your palm. You rubbed slowly, squeezing the firm flesh and pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before asking. “Can I touch you here?”

He jerked his head rapidly, a series of depraved cries flooding the room when you splayed your hand over the bulge, feeling the hot, hard length of him through the fabric. He gasped, his hips bucking up to press further into your touch. You began kneading and rubbing him, squeezing slowly to watch his face contort with pleasure. His eyes squeezed shut, brows drawn together and mouth slack. Little punched-out pants escaped him with every press of your hand.

You clenched your thighs tightly together, trying to answer the insistent throb pulsing right at your center. You were so caught up with pleasuring Jiung, you hadn’t even noticed the slickness pooling, but you pushed your own needs to the side to focus solely on him.

“You feel so good Ji… want to feel more.” Because you were growing too impatient, you needed to feel more of him.

He was already a mess, unfocused and dazed, when you brought your lips back to his. You worked open his trousers, and he gasped sharply when you finally slid your hand beneath the fabric, your fingers wrapping around his bare cock.

The first touch was a shock to both of you. He was fully hard, the length of him hot and heavy in your palm. You slid your hands down his smooth shaft, reveling in how soft his skin was, just like how you’d always imagined. You returned to his tip, rubbing your thumb along the sensitive slit leaking with precum. You circled the head, smirking with a satisfied hum when he pulsed in your hand and dropped his forehead to your shoulder to watch, transfixed and utterly consumed with how you pumped him.

You moved from base to tip, squeezing when you got to the wet, sensitive crown. His body tensed until he dissolved into a symphony of broken sounds—gasps, whimpers, choked-off moans.

Watching him come undone was its own kind of arousal. The desperate way his hips began to push up into your strokes, the look of ecstasy on his face made it harder not to slip a hand under your skirts to ride the high with him.

You gripped the hair at the base of his neck with your free hand to pull his forehead off your shoulder just to see how broken he looked while losing all sense of self, you had to tell him.

“You look so pretty like this Ji… make such pretty noises when I touch your cock.”

He tried to string words together but all that came out was a jumbled mix of useless nonsense. You could feel the tension coiling in him, the muscles in his abdomen clenched hard under his shirt, his thighs trembling by yours. You adjusted your grip, tightening slightly as you focused small strokes at the tip—it happened so suddenly.

His back arched, pushing himself further into your clutch, his mouth falling open in a silent scream at the pained pleasure of his climax rising so quickly. Then he was coming, hot and wet and spilling over your fingers and into his pants with pulsing streaks. You could feel every convulsive jerk and the way his entire being seemed to focus down to that devastating point of release.

The intensity of it shocked you, especially the way his cum was still flowing out of him, but you didn’t stop. You continued to stroke him gently through every spurt and aftershock, milking the last few drops until his quivering subsided into weak, sporadic shudders. Your own breath grew ragged at the sight, your walls clenching around empty, desperate heat.

When your movements finally stilled, he was dissolved into a teary-eyed, red-faced wreck. His chin was dipped down as he caught his breath, trying to calm the wave of embarrassment at how quickly he’d lost himself. You slowly pulled your hand out, sticky with his release, as they met the cool air, a stark contrast to the furnace of your own skin.

Despite the embarrassment, he couldn’t rip his gaze away from your cum-slicked fingers painted as a heavy, intimate silence filled the room, broken only by the sound of his struggling breaths.

He avoided your eye-contact, his nimble fingers twisting a loose piece of thread to distract himself, looking incredibly vulnerable.

You broke the silence, a question falling from your tongue. “Has anyone ever done that to you before?”

He shook his head almost in shame.

“No one has touched you there?” You clarified for your own sadistic pleasure, enjoying the way his face contorted with embarrassment.

He shook his head again.

“Jiung… are you a virgin?”

He flinched at the word, his flush deepening, but he nodded once more. “Y-yes.”

“Don’t be embarrassed,” you said to ease his worries with a kiss to his damp cheek. “I’m just… surprised. That’s all. With how charming you are, how handsome—” he finally looked at you, his eyes big and bright as you complimented him. “—how kind. Honestly, it’s kind of bothering me. Are these ladies daft?”

His ears burned listening to how shocked you were that nobody had claimed him before. It’s not like there weren’t any attempts, he’d had his fair share of advances, but they never felt right.

“That’s… that’s not it.” He shifted uncomfortably on the table at the damp, cooling mess in his pants. “I never wanted anyone else… only you.”

A dizzying rush of emotion overtook you. He could’ve had anyone he pleased but he had chosen to wait for you, even knowing that maybe he’d never get the chance to be with you. You were conquered by a possessiveness you’d never felt before, the urge to take care of him and show him in every way just what he meant to you rising in quick succession.

Before you could say anything, he spoke again. “So you’re not…”

“No.”

His face fell, his heart stinging at your admission. It wasn’t fair for him to be jealous, but he couldn’t help the way the emotion darkened his spirit and stabbed at his pride.

But then you were admitting something even more profound. “If it makes you feel better, I was always thinking of you during it.”

His dark pupils swallowed the warm brown of his irises as they widened further, searching yours to find any sign that you were lying just to appease him, but he found none.

“Really?” He breathed, the word barely a whisper, laden with hope and disbelief.

You nodded while grabbing a nearby towel to clean off your sticky fingers. “It was the only way I could… get there. My mind always wandered back to you. To what it might be like…” You looked dreamy and Jiung wondered if you were re-imagining those moments right now. “To how you might touch me. How you would sound. But now I guess I know the last part.”

He wasn’t sure when he started smiling, but now he couldn’t stop, the wonder and bliss on his face so pure, you had to look away, your own cheeks heating. When you turned back it had taken over his face completely, his eyes crinkling at the corners, the last vestiges of tension dissolving.

His insecurities were gone, replaced by a possessiveness that mirrored your own. You had always been each other’s, even when you were not.

You washed your hands in the basin then crossed back to throw your arms over his shoulders, kissing his red, swollen lips. Just to really drive in how sincere you were being, you spoke again between kisses. “Every time I touched myself, I’d imagine it was your hand.”

He felt himself twitch dangerously again, groaning when you took his bottom lip between your teeth, biting and pulling back only to dive back into his mouth. You held his hand in yours, your fingers raking through his.

“I really love your hands.”

And he was just about ready to put them to use if it meant you kept telling him exactly what you would do to yourself, but then a jarring knock came at your door, and you both froze in fear.

It came again, more forceful now and you both scrambled into action, Jiung’s shaky fingers fastening his trousers closed and you reaching to smooth down his disheveled appearance. Eventually the person grew tired of waiting and pushed the door open on their own accord, and you jumped away from him and grabbed anything to make yourself look busy.

The princess of the west kingdom strutted in looking more disgruntled and weary than usual. You turned to face her, dipping into a small curtsey. “Your Highness, apologies for not calling you in. I'm currently treating Prince Jiung.”

He turned and nodded respectfully just so half of his face was revealed to her, hoping she couldn’t see his flushed appearance. She curtseyed herself in response.

“I wouldn't come to you if it weren’t urgent.”

You drew back at the reluctance in her tone and the tiniest amount of spite that could have gone undetectable if it weren’t for your observant nature.

She hesitated, eyes flitting to Jiung apprehensively then back to you. “It’s a private matter.”

Jiung scrambled up from the table as you cringed at the way he nearly stumbled over himself.

“Right—yes, of course,” He stammered out, quickly escaping to the door.

The princess caught a small glimpse of the lingering flush on his cheeks and the dazed look in his eye, her brows raising ever so slightly.

“I’ll come back later,” Jiung mumbled, closing the door behind him.

The air in the room felt suddenly cold with the absence of Jiung’s warm presence and the silence from the princess, until finally she spoke.

“It’s Taeyang.”

·✶·

You pounded your fist against Taeyang’s door, the sound in tune with the frantic beating of your heart. It swung open to reveal him looking worn out and tired, his hair rumpled from what you presumed to be sleep.

You stared at the large bruise on his cheekbone, down to his broken lip until you finally demanded, “Show me, all of it.”

He closed the door behind you with a desolate sigh and peeled his shirt off. You wished you could be surprised at the sight of his torso littered with bruises and welts, but it was a familiar sight—though one you hadn’t seen for a while—a result of the king’s cruel hand. The anger bubbled in your stomach, your expression hardening more by the second.

“I’m okay,” he said softly.

“No, you’re not,” you snapped, already opening your medical bag. “Sit down. Now.”

You worked silently to fix the damage that had been done, finding most of the gashes already rubbed over with a healing salve. You stitched a particularly nasty wound and applied another cream to help with the bruises.

“I haven’t had to do this in a long time,” you mumbled under your breath, snipping the bandage you had just wrapped around his bruised hand.

“Because I’ve been compliant for so long,” he replied, his voice flat. The princess had already explained to you how he tried to stand up for himself, offer his own opinions, but was only met with anger.

You shook your head, and spoke almost pleading, “It’s not fair.”

“Nothing ever is.”

Despite the grim situation, there was one thing on your mind itching to come out.

“You’re warming up to each other, then.”

He scowled at the grin poking through your mouth. “Barely.”

“So she wasn’t the one who found you like this yesterday and helped clean you up?”

He rolled his eyes, a faint blush creeping up his face. “That’s beside the point.”

You shoved his shoulder in exasperation, wincing when he groaned in pain, flinching away from where you’d just pressed into a rather nasty bruise.

“Like you’re any better,” he grumbled, rubbing his shoulder. “I don’t know what happened when you two were away, but don’t think I haven’t noticed how much Jiung has changed.”

You went quiet, your hands stilling where you were packing up your supplies. “Really?”

He scoffed. “Please. He’s not subtle at all. He follows you around like a lost puppy, he’s always talking and smiling now like a lovesick fool.”

You didn’t deny it, you just dipped your head with a shy smile before meeting his eyes with an unspoken mutual understanding of where you’d both found yourselves, navigating the complexities of your respective partners.

Except things really weren’t as complex as you once thought them to be. In fact, everything felt incredibly easy.

You were just happy to have him back in your life, you’d never expected anything more. And you could see it on him too, the way he woke up everyday with a foreign eagerness, finally tasting a life he’d resigned himself to never having.

Each passing day brought you closer and closer, and you continued to excitedly discover more about each other. Your favorite discoveries occurred when his hands learned the shape of you—boldly starting to lead the way with your help. Your waist, your back, your thighs, he let his hand wander until he mapped every inch of your skin. It felt so unimaginably great, that you’d started to flesh out what your future would look like together in the light hours of the night, voices slurred with impending sleep.

Which was why when you made your way to his room after not having seen him the whole day—a strange occurrence, given his consistent presence—the sight of him slumped against the wall on the floor broke you.

The cup of tea you were holding slipped from your hand and shattered across the floor, the hot liquid splashing and soaking into your dress. You rushed forward and fell to your knees before him, your hands hovering in the space between you, too scared to touch him.

His head was tilted back against the wall, eyes open but dim and unfocused. Tears had soaked around his eyes, and his mouth—your lips parted with a stunned gasp.

His mouth was coated in blood, the liquid smeared across his lips, dripping out the corners all the way down to stain his white shirt. He blinked at you. “I couldn’t…” he rasped, a weak, wet sound escaping him. “I couldn’t make it to the bathroom.”

“I-I don’t understand,” you whispered, choking on the words. Your heart was pounding so violently in your ears, you thought your skull might crack from the pressure.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, and then his face scrunched in agony as a new wave of pain wracked through him followed by a hoarse, rattling cough that shook his frame.

“Why is this happening?” Your voice rose. “You were fine. You were getting better. The treatments… they were working!”

“I’m sorry,” was all he could repeat, the grief coating each syllable.

Something inside you snapped, the devastation curdling inside you, manifesting into a hot anger. You ripped yourself away from him, stumbling to your feet. “No! No you were better, Jiung.” The words tumbled out between manic sobs. “You’ve been smiling and laughing a-and… nnnh, just y-yesterday you kissed me and held my hand and you… you…”

Jiung watched, gutted, as you doubled over with a hand clenching over the ache in your chest.

“I c-cant,” you wept, the fight draining out of you, leaving only a harrowing sorrow.

It took everything in Jiung not to shut his eyes, to willfully be ignorant to his love crumbling. But he forced them to stay open and spoke in a voice so small, it barely reached you.

“C-can you hold me?”

You were in his arms in second, your own shaky ones enveloping him as you sobbed into his shoulder. You held him tight, as if you could keep him from slipping away. And you suspected in some deep part of your mind, that this embrace was more for you than for him.

He set his chin on your shoulder, turning to whisper in your ear. “Thank you for trying.”

You shook your head, pulling back just enough to look at him. “It’s not over.”

He said your name, gentle but defeated.

“No.” You cupped his face, making sure he was hearing every last word. “I refuse to let you die.”

A faint, heartbroken smile graced his crimson lips. “You refuse?”

You sniffled, nodding, a fresh wave of tears spilling over. “You’re smiling, but I’m being serious.”

The fragile amusement on his lips faded. “I know you are. That’s what scares me.”

You stroked his cheeks gently. “Scares you… why? Because I won’t give up on you?”

He leaned his head back against the wall, his eyes closing for a moment as he gathered his strength and courage.

“Because,” he began, “Because you care so much, and I can’t bear the thought of leaving you with that much pain.”

“Jiung…”

“You know when I first found out, the part that scared me most wasn’t death… no. It was realizing I’d never get to love you properly, and I love you, so so so much.”

“I love you, Jiung.” You leaned your forehead against his, finally speaking the truth you both already knew aloud.

There was so much more you wanted to say. You could have gone on and on for hours about how much he meant to you and how you still were not going to give up, but he already knew it all. And what he needed most in that very moment, was simply you by his side.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You helped guide him the full way to the bathroom with his weight resting against your side. At the sink, you helped him wipe the blood from his mouth and chin while he gargled his mouth clean.

Back in the bedroom, you undressed him carefully while he sat calmly pliant in your hands, eyes closed, trusting you completely.

“I’ve got you, my love.”

Your fingers, usually so sure and steady, fumbled on the buttons of his stained shirt. Your face warmed as you worked them open, revealing the sharp lines of his collarbones and the skin of his torso. You tucked him under the covers, following behind after only your silk slip remained.

You faced each other on the pillows, his hand finding yours in the darkness, your fingers threading together, a perfect fit. Neither of you said anything and eventually you watched his exhausted eyes drift shut, and soon, your own followed.

───────── ·✶· ─────────

I hope you enjoyed act 1 :) act 2 is out so head on over there :D Don't be shy to leave a comment :p

READ ACT II / SERIES MASTERLIST a collaborative event by @jiuchip & @liliesonthego

series taglist: @jellyybelly @chandlxa @delicatechris @keymeadoww @ericlvr @ozzysoatsolivesandpasta @cuppasunu @ferociouspapa2 @nezzasworld @bubu-love-24 @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @filmsunshine @shmooooo @jsshu @reiofsuns2001 @kyoluvrs @halaziasupremacy @cherryyberry1 @peonyjoo @glitteryzombieexpert @onedirectionruinedme @rockstartaeyang @wuriwoori @embobema @myfavoritedelusion @soapyfish4life @sisakoekiee @snow0-0fairy @mellownorth @lunaryoongie @meiisamotherbitch @stxrxyyz @equillisation @rainyblahaj @melonia17 @louis4sho @soullesslien @cryptothecat @m-wraith96 @kha0sblossom @x-odid @stxrxyyz @youneedtonot @foreveronez @alienslostinworld @yumi-yearns @sjakewrld

comment to be added to the taglist!

#gonna read rhe shit out of this later!!

Trending Blogs

Recently Viewed Blogs

미안하지마