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ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ Hi! Call me Minnie. I’m a french carat and army but I listen to and follow a ton of groups. ♡ I used to just be a consumer of blogs on tumblr. I’m starting new!
I’ve been writing fanfic since I was ten, and today I’m finally brave enough to publish it on tumblr!
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A Night Finally Together - mingyu
status : busy but open
No specific posting schedule, I’ll post whenever I can write.
If you are okay with the rules then scroll down and enjoy. ♡
Os três cavaleiros se curvaram de maneira impecável, sincronizados como se tivessem ensaiado aquele movimento durante horas. Seus corpos permaneciam rígidos, mas seus rostos traziam uma certa timidez, como se estivessem um pouco inseguros sobre como interagir com as duas mulheres à sua frente.
"A seu serviço, senhoritas," disseram em uníssono, suas vozes firmes e cheias de determinação, formando um coro harmonioso. Liriel, por um breve momento, piscou surpresa, enquanto Mirian imediatamente arqueou uma sobrancelha, um sorriso malicioso brincando em seus lábios. "A nosso serviço, é?" ela repetiu, o tom levemente provocativo, cruzou os braços, os olhos de sua irmã cintilaram com humor. "Então... roubamos o rei, fomos sequestradas, torturadas com exercícios insanos e agora temos guardas pessoais para nos ajudar... a fugir?"
A morena riu, batendo nas costas da mais velha de leve. "Isso, irmã! Precisamos de um plano de fuga à altura. E, pelo visto, esses três estão à disposição para ajudar."
Dokyeom, o mais descontraído dos guardas, soltou uma risada abafada, rapidamente cobrindo a boca ao perceber que talvez não fosse apropriado. Hoshi manteve sua postura impecável, mas um leve sorriso ameaçou escapar.
"Com todo o respeito, senhoritas," Seungkwan começou, a voz um pouco preocupada, "nosso trabalho é garantir que vocês estejam seguras, não participarmos de... fugas imaginárias."
Liriel balançou a cabeça dramaticamente. "Ah, é sempre assim, não é? Todo mundo fica do lado do rei. E nós aqui, pobres almas indefesas, apenas tentamos sobreviver."
Mirian suspirou, fingindo resignação. "Bem, pelo menos vocês têm rostos bonitos. Acho que isso ajuda."
Dokyeom finalmente deixou escapar uma risada completa, enquanto Hoshi corava visivelmente. Seungkwan pigarreou, segurando um apavoro, tentando trazer alguma formalidade de volta à situação.
"Senhoritas," disse ele, "nos fomos designado o dever de protegê-las. Qualquer fuga—hipotética ou não—não está nos planos."
El colocou uma mão no peito, fingindo estar profundamente ofendida. "Mas e se precisarmos de ajuda para fugir da próxima rodada de exercícios do senhor tirano ali?" Ela apontou para Joshua, que observava a cena com os braços cruzados e uma expressão divertida.
"Continuem, por favor," ele disse, finalmente entrando na conversa. "É fascinante ver até onde vai a criatividade de vocês para escapar de um simples treino."
"Simples?" Mirian exclamou, girando nos calcanhares para encará-lo. "Isso é tortura, Joshua. Tortura glamorosa, mas ainda assim, tortura."
Os três guardas pareceram ainda mais desconcertados com o comentário, mas a morena rapidamente voltou sua atenção para eles.
"Bem, senhores, espero que estejam prontos para uma vida cheia de aventuras... e reclamações, porque vamos tornar o trabalho de vocês muito interessante."
Hoshi sorriu abertamente.
"Acredito que isso já esteja acontecendo."
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As jovens estavam focadas, ou pelo menos tentando estar, na série de agachamentos que Joshua havia ordenado. As reclamações ecoavam pelo amplo pátio de treino, misturando-se ao som dos pesos sendo levantados e ao leve farfalhar das roupas de couro que usavam.
"Por que precisamos disso mesmo?" A mais nova perguntou, fazendo uma careta enquanto equilibrava o peso nas costas. "Não é como se fôssemos guerreiras de verdade," resmungou, a voz carregada de sarcasmo enquanto ajustava a posição do peso nas costas. "Eu nem sei quem inventou agachamentos, mas ele devia ser preso."
Liriel, ao lado dela, ofegava suavemente, tentando manter o ritmo. "Eu já disse, irmã, eles querem nos moldar em perfeitas damas... ou talvez em escravas reais altamente treinadas."
Os guardas, posicionados nas proximidades para supervisionar, abafavam risadas enquanto as observavam. Mesmo em meio ao cansaço, as irmãs mantinham um humor ácido, algo que parecia contagiar quem estivesse por perto.
"Isso tudo seria mais tolerável se tivéssemos pelo menos um banquete esperando no final," Mirian continuou, erguendo-se de mais um agachamento. "Mas não, só suor e dor!"
Foi então que Liriel sentiu. Um calafrio subiu pela espinha, não causado pelo frio do ar ou pelo esforço físico, mas por algo diferente.
Uma sensação de ser observada. Algo que fazia a pele formigar.
Ela parou por um momento, ainda com o peso equilibrado, os sentidos alertas. De costas para a porta do pátio, ela não viu a figura imponente que havia acabado de entrar, mas sentia o olhar queimando. Pesado. Intrusivo. Quase possessivo.
Mirian, ainda distraída com suas próprias queixas, não percebeu o súbito silêncio que se instalou ao redor delas. Os guardas ficaram rígidos, e até Joshua endireitou a postura, seus olhos desviando para a entrada.
"Mais foco, senhoritas," ele ordenou, mas sua voz estava tensa, e um leve sorriso puxava os cantos de sua boca. Foi então que ela, ainda com o peso nos ombros, finalmente cedeu à curiosidade. Virou levemente o rosto, os cabelos em rabo de cavalo balançando. E lá estava ele.
Seungcheol.
Encostado casualmente na porta do pátio, os braços cruzados sobre o peito largo. Mas seu olhar... Seu olhar não era nada casual. Ele estava fixo nela, nos movimentos que fazia, na forma como a roupa de couro moldava cada curva de seu corpo. Por um instante, ela ficou paralisada. Não sabia se era raiva, embaraço ou algo mais que subia pelo peito. Mas, sem pensar, largou o peso de qualquer jeito no chão, fazendo um estrondo que ecoou pelo pátio.
"Você!" ela exclamou, girando para encará-lo, o rosto vermelho, seja pelo esforço ou pela fúria.
Mirian, percebendo a mudança no tom, seguiu o olhar da irmã e arregalou os olhos ao ver o rei.
"Ah, claro. Agora temos audiência real."
Seungcheol arqueou uma sobrancelha, um leve sorriso curvando seus lábios. "Interessante treino, senhoritas. Parece que estão progredindo bem."
A menor deu um passo à frente, apontando para ele. "Interessante é o que você estava fazendo aí parado, nos encarando como um... um predador!"
Joshua pigarreou, claramente lutando para manter a compostura. "Majestade, acredito que a senhorita Liriel está apenas... emocionada com o progresso de hoje."
Seungcheol deu um passo à frente, sua presença quase esmagadora enquanto caminhava em direção a elas. "Emocionada, é? Parece que estou sendo acusado de algo."
Mirian, sempre rápida, se colocou ao lado da irmã, ainda segurando o peso.
"Talvez esteja. Afinal, rei ou não, há maneiras mais... elegantes de observar alguém, além do mais, não tem coisas mais importantes a fazer?."
O sorriso de Seungcheol cresceu quase mostrando suas gengivas, mas seus olhos continuaram fixos na loira, que, apesar do olhar desafiador, sentia o coração acelerar sob aquele olhar.
"Se vocês duas forem tão hábeis no treino quanto são nas palavras afiadas," ele disse suavemente, "então temos muito a esperar."
Mirian deu um pequeno riso irônico.
"Ah, meu rei, cuidado. Podemos acabar roubando muito mais do que sua atenção."
Joshua balançou a cabeça, divertido, e disse: "Majestade, acho que seria sábio deixar as senhoritas continuarem com o treino. Ainda temos muito a fazer."
Seungcheol assentiu, mas não sem antes lançar um último olhar para a loira. Um olhar que dizia muito mais do que suas palavras. E então ele se virou para Mingyu, ao fundo, sua presença pesando no ar.
Liriel apertou os lábios, tentando ignorar o calor que subia pelo pescoço. "Eu odeio esse homem," ela murmurou.
A mais nova deu um sorriso largo.
"Claro que odeia."
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Liriel tentava manter o foco em sua sequência de exercícios. Cada movimento parecia uma eternidade enquanto ela ouvia o som das espadas ao fundo. O clangor metálico ecoava pelo pátio, misturado com os gritos de esforço e concentração que vinham de Seungcheol e Mingyu. Ela mordia o lábio inferior, olhando de soslaio, tentando ignorar a cena. Mas era impossível. O combate era hipnotizante. Os movimentos eram precisos, como uma dança coreografada.
Ambos eram gigantes em presença, a força e a habilidade fluindo em cada golpe e defesa. Mingyu tinha uma postura graciosa, quase felina. Seus passos eram leves, mas poderosos, e a espada em sua mão parecia uma extensão natural de seu corpo. Seus músculos se contraíam a cada movimento, o brilho do esforço destacando sua pele de mel sob a luz mágica do pátio. Seungcheol, no entanto... Ele era um espetáculo por si só.
Cada golpe que desferia era como um trovão, ressoando com uma força que parecia impossível de ser contida. Sua presença era avassaladora, como se o espaço ao redor fosse moldado pela intensidade de seus movimentos. Ela tentou desviar o olhar de novo, mas então aconteceu.
Sem aviso, ambos os homens tiraram as camisas, jogando-as para o lado. Ela ouviu um leve murmúrio de surpresa vindo dos guardas e até mesmo de Mirian, que interrompeu suas perguntas para observar.
Os músculos expostos de Seungcheol eram algo fora de um conto de fantasia. Seu peito amplo, marcado por cicatrizes que contavam histórias de batalhas passadas, era um contraste fascinante com os músculos esculpidos de seus ombros e braços. Cada movimento fazia sua pele reluzir com o esforço, destacando a força bruta que ele carregava.
A loira sentiu o coração acelerar, uma mistura de surpresa e fascínio. Ela sabia que não deveria olhar, mas ele havia feito aquilo com ela antes. Ele a observou descaradamente, então talvez fosse justo.
Só um pouco.
O olhar dela seguiu o movimento de Seungcheol, os músculos do abdômen marcados e perfeitamente definidos enquanto ele girava para defender um golpe de Mingyu. A força em suas pernas era evidente, cada movimento carregando uma autoridade natural.
Ela estava tão absorta na cena que nem percebeu o leve sorriso no rosto da outra jovem, que observava sua irmã com um brilho travesso nos olhos. Então, fez o inevitável.
"Uau, que paisagem, hein?" assobiou alto, a voz carregada de provocação.
O som fez Liriel pular, como se tivesse sido pega em flagrante. Ela virou o rosto bruscamente, corando até a raiz dos cabelos. "Eu não estava... não estava olhando!"
Miri riu alto, colocando as mãos nos quadris.
"Ah, claro que não, irmãzinha."
Joshua, que estava por perto supervisionando os guardas, observou a cena com um olhar curioso, embora não dissesse nada. Mingyu riu do assobio ficando todo corado, mas Seungcheol permaneceu focado no combate, embora um leve sorriso quase imperceptível tenha curvado seus lábios.
Liriel tentou se concentrar em seus exercícios novamente, mas sentia o calor queimando suas bochechas e, pior, sabia que aquele sorriso discreto do rei era por causa dela. Mirian, ainda rindo, voltou a se aproximar dos guardas, trocando comentários provocativos que os faziam rir baixinho. Sua irmã, por outro lado, tentou manter a compostura, mas era quase impossível com o sangue fervendo em suas bochechas.
Ela furtivamente olhou para o fundo do pátio novamente. Seungcheol e Mingyu estavam em pleno combate, os movimentos mais intensos agora, como se a provocação da maldita irmã tivesse alimentado a competitividade entre eles.
O rei, contudo, parecia mover-se com ainda mais propósito. Cada golpe parecia mais calculado, mais forte, como se quisesse provar algo. Seus olhos, vez ou outra, desviavam ligeiramente para Liriel, um olhar rápido e penetrante, mas suficiente para fazer seu coração acelerar novamente.
Mingyu deu um giro impressionante, quase acertando Seungcheol, que desviou com facilidade.
"Você está se distraindo meu amigo" Mingyu provocou, sorrindo enquanto girava a espada em suas mãos.
"De jeito nenhum," respondeu Seungcheol, a voz grave reverberando no pátio. Ele bloqueou outro ataque com força, o som das espadas chocando-se reverberando pelo espaço. "Mas parece que você está."
Liriel mordeu o lábio, tentando manter os olhos no chão enquanto continuava seus agachamentos, mas a curiosidade a venceu de novo. Ela olhou para Joshua, que estava de braços cruzados, observando a batalha com uma expressão de leve aprovação.
"Você acha que eles sempre treinam assim?" ela perguntou, tentando soar casual.
Joshua olhou para ela, um sorriso brincando em seus lábios. "Sempre que estão no mesmo lugar. Não importa quantas vezes se enfrentem, é como se fosse a primeira. Mingyu gosta de desafiar o rei, e o rei... bem, ele gosta de ganhar."
Mirian se intrometeu antes que Liriel pudesse responder. "E você? Não treina, Senhor "Vossa Graça'? Ou prefere só observar?"
Joshua riu suavemente.
"Eu treino o suficiente, senhorita. Mas gosto de deixar que eles resolvam quem é o mais forte. É uma forma de entretenimento... para mim"
A jovem arqueou uma sobrancelha, claramente não convencida, mas antes que pudesse provocar mais, um som alto chamou a atenção de todos. Seungcheol havia desarmado Mingyu com um golpe poderoso, a espada do oponente voando pelo ar antes de cair no chão com um som metálico.
"Rápido demais" Seungcheol disse com um meio sorriso, estendendo a mão para Mingyu, que a aceitou com um sorriso largo.
"Da próxima vez, quem sabe," Mingyu respondeu, esfregando o ombro enquanto pegava a espada caída.
Liriel, sem querer, deixou escapar um suspiro. Foi algo quase imperceptível, mas suficiente para que Mirian a olhasse de lado com um sorriso provocador.
"Está se divertindo aí?" sussurrou, a voz carregada de malícia.
"Eu... estou apenas observando. É impressionante, só isso," respondeu rapidamente, tentando disfarçar o nervosismo. Antes que a morena pudesse responder, Seungcheol passou perto delas, tirando o suor da testa com um pano que um dos escudeiros lhe ofereceu. Ele lançou um olhar casual para mais baixa das irmãs, mas havia algo naquele olhar que parecia... mais intenso.
"Gostando do treinamento, senhoritas?" ele perguntou, a voz grave, mas com um toque quase provocador.
Mirian, como sempre, não perdeu tempo. "Bom, considerando que estamos sendo torturadas, é até interessante. Mas a show ajudou, devo admitir."
Seungcheol sorriu de leve, mas não respondeu diretamente. Ele apenas inclinou a cabeça levemente antes de sair do pátio, deixando um alguém com um coração disparado e sua irmã segurando a risada.
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O trajeto até a sala de banhos foi cheio de risos e provocações. As irmãs, ainda se recuperando do treinamento exaustivo, aproveitavam cada oportunidade para brincar com os guardas que as acompanhavam.
"Então, qual de vocês vai ter a honra de nos acompanhar no banho?" A mais alta perguntou, piscando de forma exagerada para um dos cavaleiros. Dokyeom, claramente embaraçado, coçou a nuca e tentou desviar o olhar. "Senhorita, nós... é claro que não..."
"Ah, que pena," acrescentou, segurando o riso enquanto fingia desapontamento. "Poderíamos aproveitar para discutir estratégias de combate, não acha?"
Os guardas tentaram manter a compostura, mas a brincadeira arrancou sorrisos tímidos deles. O Duque, que caminhava logo atrás, cerrou o maxilar, visivelmente incomodado.
"Creio que podem se banhar sem supervisão masculina, obrigado," ele disse com um tom cortante, lançando um olhar sério para os cavaleiros que imediatamente ficaram mais rígidos.
Liriel notou o tom de ciúme em sua voz e, como sempre, não perdeu a chance de provocar. "Ora, meu caro Duque, está com ciúmes? Achei que fosse um homem seguro de si."
Joshua parou por um momento, virando-se para encará-la. "Ciúmes? Não. Apenas zelo. Afinal, minha responsabilidade é garantir que estejam bem cuidadas, e não... distraídas."
Ela deu uma risadinha, mas Joshua não pareceu achar graça. Quando chegaram à entrada da opulenta sala de banhos, ele fez uma reverência ligeiramente rígida.
"As senhoritas podem aproveitar o banho sem pressa. A água foi preparada com ervas relaxantes para aliviar a tensão muscular do treinamento. Almoçaremos no salão principal, e após isso apresentarei o professor de dança. Espero que estejam descansadas até lá."
"Sim, senhor," Mirian respondeu em tom brincalhão, imitando uma saudação.
Joshua apenas revirou os olhos antes de virar e se afastar pelo corredor, murmurando algo inaudível.
Assim que ele desapareceu de vista, Liriel se inclinou para a caçula (por 3 minutos).
"Ele está morrendo de ciúmes, você viu?"
"Eu não acho que..." começou, mas sua irmã levantou uma sobrancelha cética.
"Ah, por favor,. Você é mesmo péssima em perceber essas coisas. Vamos logo, antes que ele volte e resolva nos carregar até o salão de banho pessoalmente."
Ao entrarem na sala, ambas pararam, impressionadas. O ambiente era deslumbrante. Uma grande piscina termal ocupava o centro, cercada por colunas de mármore branco com detalhes dourados. Lustres de cristal pendiam do teto, e o vapor da água quente criava uma atmosfera quase mágica. Pequenos pratos de frutas frescas e taças de suco estavam dispostos ao lado, enquanto toalhas de linho finíssimo estavam empilhadas em um canto.
"Isso sim é vida" A mais alta comentou, soltando um suspiro enquanto começava a tirar as botas. A mais velha apenas concordou com um aceno, deixando-se levar pelo momento. As duas rapidamente mergulharam na água quente, suspirando de alívio ao sentir o calor relaxante.
"Então, o que acha do Duque Ciumento?" A loira perguntou, lançando um olhar brincalhão para a caçula.
"Eu acho que adoro provocá-lo, só isso," respondeu, fechando os olhos e se recostando.
"Ah, claro."
Mirian apenas balançou a cabeça, tentando não dar importância. "Vamos apenas aproveitar o banho, esquisita. Tenho certeza de que ele já está planejando nos torturar na aula de dança depois do almoço." Ela riu, jogando um pouco de água na irmã antes de mergulhar completamente. Por um breve momento, tudo parecia perfeito—um raro instante de paz em meio ao caos.
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As duas irmãs estavam no centro de um verdadeiro exército de criados, costureiros e cabeleireiros que trabalhavam em ritmo frenético para deixá-las impecáveis. O ar da sala era perfumado com essências florais doces, e o som dos passos apressados e das instruções preenchia o ambiente.
Liriel, soltou um gemido de frustração enquanto uma das criadas ajustava o corpete do vestido. "Por todos os deuses, isso está esmagando meu quadril! Quem foi que inventou essas coisas? Certamente alguém que odiava mulheres."
Mirian, já acostumada às reclamações da irmã, apenas riu enquanto examinava seu reflexo no grande espelho dourado à sua frente. Seu vestido era de um verde esmeralda profundo, com detalhes prateados que cintilavam como pérolas. O corpete realçava sua figura e levantava os seios com um corte ousado, com uma fenda lateral que revelava suas pernas enquanto ela caminhava. Ela parecia selvagem, quase uma ninfa naquilo tudo.
A Loira não conseguiu deixar passar. "De onde você tirou essa pose toda pimposa de dama? Eu não sabia que tínhamos uma princesa escondida na família!"
A mais nova revirou os olhos, mas manteve o sorriso. "Talvez eu apenas saiba me adaptar melhor que você, irmã. Além disso, não é como se tivéssemos escolha. A propósito," ela apontou para o espelho, "o vestido roxo fica lindo em você."
Liriel olhou para si mesma, analisando o tecido púrpura que abraçava seu corpo. O vestido tinha um corte elegante, a saia fluída movia-se como um rio quando ela se movia. "É, bom... não posso negar que me sinto minimamente apresentável. Mas esses saltos altos..." Ela olhou para os sapatos dourados, claramente desconfortáveis, e fez uma careta. "São uma tortura."
"Quer que troquem por algo mais baixo?" perguntou uma das criadas.
"Por favor, pelo amor da minha sanidade," respondeu, aliviada.
Logo, as duas estavam prontas. Seus cabelos estavam elegantemente presos em coques com tranças, adornados com pequenos cristais que brilhavam com a luz. Quando os criados finalmente se afastaram, elas eram a personificação da nobreza, ainda que seus olhares revelassem o espírito selvagem que carregavam. Na porta do salão de baile, Joshua as aguardava. Ele vestia um traje formal preto que realçava sua postura elegante. Quando viu as irmãs, especialmente Mirian, ele ficou momentaneamente sem palavras.
Ela caminhava com uma graça que parecia quase inata, o vestido verde destacando seus olhos e a pele marrom. Joshua sentiu o coração acelerar, mas disfarçou, curvando-se levemente.
"Senhoritas, estão deslumbrantes."
Ela, sempre espirituosa, respondeu: "Ah, então você também sabe fazer elogios? Estou impressionada."
Liriel, por outro lado, apenas sorriu, agradecendo em um tom baixo. Quando Joshua ofereceu o braço para guiá-las, a morena olhou para ele com uma expressão travessa. "Vai nos arrastar até o salão de baile como fez no pátio, ou desta vez seremos tratadas como damas?"
Joshua riu suavemente, inclinando a cabeça. "Prometo que desta vez farei as coisas de forma apropriada. Afinal, não quero ser acusado de tirania novamente."
Com isso, ele começou a guiá-las pelo corredor iluminado por candelabros, onde o som da música suave já podia ser ouvido ao longe.
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O salão de dança era um espetáculo por si só.
Assim que as portas maciças se abriram, uma explosão de luz dourada preencheu os olhos das irmãs. Candelabros grandiosos pendiam do teto abobadado, suas centenas de cristais refletindo as chamas das velas e criando uma dança de brilhos pelas paredes.
O mármore do chão era impecável, um contraste perfeito entre branco e dourado que parecia espelhar todo o ambiente, enquanto colunas elegantes, decoradas com entalhes de flores e videiras, circundavam o espaço.
No fundo do salão, um pianista tocava suavemente, seus dedos deslizando pelas teclas como se fosse uma extensão de sua alma. A melodia era delicada e arrebatadora, envolvendo o espaço em uma aura quase mágica. Mirian sentiu-se transportada, os olhos percorrendo cada detalhe com fascínio genuíno. As janelas altas, com cortinas de veludo azul profundo, permitiam a entrada de uma luz difusa, enquanto espelhos estrategicamente posicionados ampliavam a grandiosidade do lugar.
Ela caminhava lentamente, o som de seus saltos ecoando pelo salão, enquanto absorvia cada detalhe. "É... é como um sonho," murmurou, quase para si mesma, mas Joshua, ao seu lado, ouviu claramente. Ele não conseguiu desviar o olhar dela, maravilhado pela maneira como seus olhos brilhavam, como se ela estivesse vendo algo extraordinário pela primeira vez.
"Fico feliz que esteja encantada," ele disse suavemente, um pequeno sorriso em seus lábios. "Mas temo que sua atenção será roubada agora." Ele fez um gesto com a mão, e de uma porta lateral surgiu uma figura graciosa.
Minghao entrou no salão com passos fluidos, quase como se estivesse dançando mesmo enquanto caminhava. Ele era esguio, seus movimentos refletindo uma leveza que parecia sobrenatural. Vestia um traje preto simples, mas impecavelmente ajustado, com detalhes prateados que destacavam sua elegância natural. Seus traços eram delicados, com olhos amendoados e um sorriso reservado, mas incrivelmente cativante. Ao se aproximar, Minghao fez uma leve reverência, sua postura impecável refletindo sua experiência e finesse como dançarino. "Senhoritas," disse ele, sua voz baixa e suave, carregada com um sotaque levemente exótico que tornava suas palavras ainda mais atraentes.
E Mirian, logo Mirian com os comentários sujos e descarados, sentiu o calor subir para suas bochechas.
O sorriso elegante dele, quase tímido, a desarmou completamente. Ela tropeçou nas palavras, mas conseguiu murmurar: "É um prazer conhecê-lo, senhor..."
"Minghao," ele respondeu, sua expressão ganhando um leve brilho divertido. "Mas acredito que, no salão, apenas 'professor' será suficiente."
Liriel, em busca de revidar as provocações da irmã, deu uma risada leve e murmurou: "Cuidado, Miri. Se continuar corando assim, vai derreter o mármore."
Joshua, que observava a interação, notou a reação da morena e não pôde evitar um resmugar contido. No entanto, ao olhar para Minghao, percebeu que o professor parecia igualmente encantado pela jovem, e se deu o prazer de revirar os olhos internamente.
Minghao se virou elegantemente para as duas. "Hoje, começaremos com os fundamentos. Prometo que, até o final desta lição, vocês estarão tão graciosas quanto o salão que nos rodeia." Ele estendeu a mão para a jovem, que hesitou por um segundo antes de aceitá-la, sentindo o toque leve, porém firme, do dançarino.
O salão parecia vibrar em harmonia com a música, enquanto Minghao a guiava para o centro, onde começariam a primeira aula.
Joshua cruzou os braços, observando de longe, com uma mistura de orgulho e algo que ele não queria admitir como ciúmes.
O dançarino se posicionou atrás de dela, movendo-se como um predador gracioso, mas sem nunca invadir sua bolha de conforto. Ele pousou as mãos suavemente sobre seus ombros, corrigindo a postura arqueada. "Relaxe, senhorita," ele disse, sua voz suave como a seda. "Seu corpo deve se mover como se estivesse flutuando. Agora, incline o queixo levemente para cima. Isso. Perfeito."
A gêmea mais alta sentiu-se estranhamente à vontade com o toque dele, mesmo que o contato fosse mínimo. Quando Minghao assumiu sua mão, segurando-a com delicadeza firme, ele deu um passo atrás, guiando-a para o centro do salão. "Agora, ouça a música. Cada nota dita o momento de seus movimentos. Feche os olhos, se precisar, mas confie em mim."
A hesitação inicial dela foi dissolvida pela paciência dele. Quando Minghao começou a girá-la suavemente, ela sentiu que era uma extensão da melodia que preenchia o salão.
O vestido dela, fluído e feito de um tecido leve, rodopiava ao seu redor como uma nuvem, refletindo a luz dourada que descia dos candelabros. Cada passo era guiado por ele com precisão, seus pés se movendo em sincronia com os dela.
O Duque, parado próximo à entrada, observava a cena com um olhar que misturava admiração e inquietação. Havia algo hipnotizante na maneira como ela se movia pelo salão, como se o espaço tivesse sido criado para ela. Seus cabelos brilhavam à luz do salão, e o sorriso hesitante, mas genuíno, que surgia em seu rosto enquanto ela aprendia os passos parecia roubar todo o oxigênio da sala.
Ele sequer percebeu que estava prendendo a respiração, perdido naquele espetáculo íntimo, até que foi arrancado abruptamente de seu devaneio pela voz calma, mas firme, de Minghao. "Duque Joshua," chamou o professor, sem interromper o movimento da morana, "seria gentil o suficiente para ajudar sua protegida, a senhorita Liriel? Assim posso me concentrar totalmente nos ajustes de Mirian."
Joshua piscou, confuso por um momento, até que percebeu que todos os olhos estavam nele, incluindo o olhar travesso da loira. Ela estava parada a poucos metros dele, com as mãos nos quadris, olhando para ele como se esperasse uma resposta espirituosa.
"Ah... claro," ele disse, um pouco desconcertado, antes de caminhar até ela.
Ele ofereceu a mão com um gesto elegante. "Parece que você ficou com o melhor dançarino disponível"
Liriel riu, aceitando a mão dele. "Veremos isso quando eu tropeçar no seu pé"
Enquanto Joshua começava a guiá-la nos passos básicos, com menos refinamento e mais esforço do que Minghao, a pequena não perdeu a oportunidade de provocar. "Então, duque, isso é parte de suas múltiplas habilidades? Além de torturador de manhã, você é um dançarino talentoso à tarde?"
"Eu prefiro o termo 'instrutor rigoroso'," Joshua respondeu, tentando soar sério, mas a brincadeira em seu tom era evidente. Ele ajustou a postura dela com cuidado, notando quando parecia brincar para se esquivar dos passos mais complicados.
Enquanto isso, Mirian continuava a ser guiada por Minghao, que agora a fazia girar em um movimento mais elaborado. "Você está se saindo melhor do que a maioria dos iniciantes, senhorita," ele elogiou, seu sorriso gentil, mas sincero.
"Você é um professor paciente," respondeu, corando levemente, tentando não tropeçar no deslumbre de seus próprios movimentos refletidos nos espelhos ao redor. No fundo, Joshua olhou para ela mais uma vez, e um pequeno sorriso surgiu em seus lábios,. Havia algo na determinação dela, na forma como ela mergulhava completamente em qualquer situação, que ele não conseguia ignorar. Mesmo enquanto dançava com sua irmã, seus olhos frequentemente voltavam para o centro do salão, onde Mirian girava como uma estrela no meio do universo.
O Duque tentou mais uma vez ajustar a postura de Liriel, mas ela permanecia rígida como se fosse esculpida em pedra. Ele pousou as mãos com cuidado nos ombros dela, tentando suavizar sua postura. "Senhorita, eu juro que você está mais tensa do que um arco antes de disparar uma flecha. Relaxe, por favor."
"Eu estou relaxada," ela rebateu, franzindo o cenho. "Isso aqui é relaxada. Se eu relaxar mais, desmorono em uma pilha de roupas chiques."
Ele suspirou, mantendo a paciência, mas quando tentou mais uma vez guiá-la em um movimento simples, ela tropeçou nos próprios pés e pisou no dele com força. Ele reprimiu um grunhido de dor, mas não perdeu a oportunidade de provocar.
"Ah, desculpe, Vossa Alteza. Será que esses sapatos elegantes que você usa são resistentes o suficiente para mim?" Ela sorriu de canto, um brilho travesso nos olhos.
"Eu já enfrentei bestas de cinco metros de altura e sobrevivi, senhorita," respondeu ele, com um sorriso contido. "Mas tenho que admitir que seus pés são uma ameaça completamente nova."
Enquanto ela gargalhava e tentava — sem sucesso — seguir seus passos, Joshua olhou, quase sem querer, na direção do centro do salão. Lá estava sua musa, sendo guiada com maestria por Minghao, seus movimentos ganhando cada vez mais graça. Seus passos eram delicados, mas firmes, e ela começava a se mover com a fluidez de alguém que fazia aquilo há anos. Havia algo nela que o deixou estático por um momento.
Mirian parecia... diferente, mas como ela mesma, quando se conheceram. Não era apenas a maneira como o vestido realçava sua silhueta ou como os cabelos estavam perfeitamente presos, com algumas mechas emoldurando seu rosto de forma quase angelical. Era o brilho nos olhos dela enquanto girava no salão, os lábios curvados em um sorriso pequeno, mas genuíno. Pela primeira vez desde que ela e a irmã haviam chegado ao castelo, parecia feliz.
E, por um instante, Joshua a viu como ela havia sido antes de tudo. Antes das dificuldades, dos furtos e do cinismo que agora coloriam sua personalidade, antes de tudo. Ela era de novo aquela menina que ele lembrava — curiosa, brilhante, quase etérea.
A imagem era tão poderosa que ele quase esqueceu de onde estava.
"Joshua?" A voz de El o trouxe de volta à realidade. Ela estava parada na frente dele, braços cruzados, o semblante entre irritado e divertido. "Eu sei que sou uma péssima dançarina, mas será que você pode pelo menos fingir prestar atenção? Ou ela realmente é tão fascinante assim?"
Ele piscou, sentindo o calor subir pelo pescoço. "Eu estou prestando atenção," mentiu, tentando recuperar a compostura.
"Claro que está," respondeu ela, revirando os olhos. Ela tentou mais uma vez seguir os passos dele, mas tropeçou de novo, desta vez caindo para frente. Joshua a segurou antes que ela atingisse o chão, mas não pôde evitar uma risada suave.
"Talvez devêssemos começar com algo ainda mais básico," ele sugeriu, ajudando-a a se endireitar. "Como andar em linha reta, por exemplo."
"Engraçadinho," retrucou, mas ela também estava sorrindo. "Vou melhorar, você vai ver. Só preciso de tempo... e talvez de um calçado menos assassino."
Enquanto retomavam os movimentos, o homem arriscou mais um olhar para a morena. Ela continuava dançando, agora em uma série mais complexa de giros e passos.
Seus olhos cruzaram os dele por um momento, e algo passou entre eles — uma espécie de reconhecimento silencioso. Ela desviou o olhar rapidamente, concentrando-se em seu professor. Joshua sentiu o estômago revirar, como se tivesse engolido vidro. Ele não conseguia desviar o olhar, mas agora, em vez de encanto, o que o consumia era uma sensação tão corrosiva quanto ácido. O sorriso dela... aquele sorriso pequeno, quase tímido, que fazia os olhos dela brilharem como estrelas.
Não fora para ele. Não. Fora para Minghao.
Minghao, com seus movimentos graciosos, postura impecável e aquele sorriso reservado que parecia uma maldita obra de arte. E ainda havia os toques — fugazes, mas presentes. Um ajuste sutil na postura dela aqui, um toque leve na cintura ali. Joshua viu quando Minghao pousou a mão na curva das costas dela para guiá-la em um giro, e algo dentro dele se contorceu de forma quase insuportável.
"Joshua?" A voz de Liriel novamente o tirou de seu transe, mas desta vez ele não conseguiu esconder a tensão no maxilar, os olhos ainda fixos no par ao centro do salão.
"Continue," respondeu ele, a voz mais baixa e ríspida do que pretendia.
A loira arqueou uma sobrancelha, claramente intrigada. "Continue o quê? Estou parada aqui há dois minutos esperando você voltar para a realidade. E, honestamente, você está parecendo que vai arrancar a cabeça de alguém."
Ele fechou os olhos por um instante, tentando recuperar a compostura. Mas quando os abriu novamente, o cenário só piorava. Mirian riu de algo que Minghao disse, a cabeça inclinando-se levemente para trás, expondo o delicado arco de seu pescoço. Ela parecia tão à vontade, tão aberta. E Minghao... ele sorria de volta, com aquela serenidade quase irritante.
Joshua sentiu um calor subir pelo corpo, como se estivesse prestes a explodir. Sua máscara de cavaleiro gentil, paciente e equilibrado, estava por um fio.
"Você está bem?" perguntou Liriel, agora com um tom mais sério.
"Estou," mentiu ele, os dedos apertando levemente os ombros dela enquanto tentava retomar o foco no treinamento. Mas era impossível. A cada giro, a cada risada, a cada toque entre os dois, a raiva fervia mais. Ele queria ser o motivo daquele sorriso, da risada, do brilho nos olhos dela.
Liriel soltou um suspiro exagerado. "Se você não me disser o que está acontecendo, vou começar a acreditar que você tem um problema com o meu talento natural para a dança."
Ele finalmente olhou para ela, mas sua expressão era séria, quase sombria. "Nada está acontecendo."
"Claro," disse ela, o tom carregado de sarcasmo. "E eu sou alta."
Joshua voltou o olhar para Mirian, incapaz de se conter. Ele viu quando Minghao a puxou para mais perto, os dois girando em perfeita sincronia, como se fossem peças de um mesmo mecanismo. A cena era tão perfeita que parecia uma pintura, e isso apenas intensificou o ciúme que o consumia. Ele respirou fundo, tentando controlar a explosão de sentimentos. Mas, enquanto observava Minghao murmurar algo no ouvido dela, provocando mais uma risada dela, ele sentiu que sua máscara estava começando a rachar. E, pela primeira vez em muito tempo, Joshua teve medo do que aconteceria se ela desmoronasse completamente. Ele sentiu que não poderia suportar mais um segundo naquele salão. A cada giro dela, a cada risada suave que escapava de seus lábios, parecia que algo dentro dele estava prestes a explodir. A tensão no peito era sufocante, um misto de raiva, frustração e algo que ele não queria nomear. Ele soltou a mais velha das gêmeasnabruptamente, quase sem perceber o gesto, e deu um passo para trás, os ombros rígidos.
"Preciso ir," ele anunciou de repente, a voz cortante.
Liriel o encarou com as sobrancelhas arqueadas, surpresa pela brusquidão. "Ir? "Agora? Você não vai nos deixar sozinhas com ele, vai?"
"Tenho uma reunião marcada," respondeu Joshua rapidamente, o tom afiado, sem sequer olhar para ela. Sem esperar por qualquer protesto ou reação, ele virou nos calcanhares, atravessando o salão como um furacão. Seus passos ecoavam pelo mármore, cada um carregado de uma fúria silenciosa. Ele sentia os olhares sobre ele — de Liriel, talvez até de Mirian e Minghao — mas não se importava. Precisava sair dali.
Quando alcançou as portas duplas, as abriu com um movimento brusco, o impacto reverberando pelo salão quando as portas se chocaram contra as paredes. Ele não se virou, não disse mais uma palavra. Apenas desapareceu pelos corredores, o som de seus passos diminuindo gradualmente.
No salão, o silêncio que se instalou foi desconfortável. El olhou para Minghao com uma expressão confusa, depois para Mirian, que parara de dançar e estava olhando fixamente para as portas por onde Joshua saíra.
"Que diabos foi isso?" a loira perguntou, cruzando os braços.
A mais alta piscou, ainda tentando processar a saída abrupta dele. "Não sei... talvez ele realmente tenha uma reunião?"
Liriel bufou, claramente cética. "Ou talvez ele esteja com algum problema mental que não nos contou."
Minghao limpou a garganta educadamente, um sorriso reservado nos lábios. "Ele pareceu... distraído. Talvez seja algo importante."
Mirian desviou o olhar, uma inquietação crescendo em seu peito. Joshua nunca agira daquela forma antes. Ele sempre fora o retrato da paciência e do controle, até mesmo nos momentos mais caóticos. Então, por que agora, justo agora, parecia tão... descontrolado?
Ela sacudiu a cabeça, tentando afastar os pensamentos. "Vamos continuar," disse, voltando sua atenção para Minghao. "Joshua pode cuidar de seus assuntos. Não é como se ele fosse insubstituível."
Mas, enquanto falava, não pôde evitar que uma sombra de preocupação se instalasse em sua mente. Algo estava errado, e, por mais que quisesse ignorar, o rosto de Joshua, tenso e sombrio, não lhe saía da cabeça.
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Os corredores do palácio eram um espetáculo por si só, mas a promessa do "Jardim de Inverno" capturava toda a atenção das gêmeas. Envoltas em casacos de tecido pesado e luxuoso, adornados com peles macias e luvas que aqueciam até a ponta dos dedos, elas caminhavam ao lado de seus guardas. O ar estava carregado com a expectativa do que iriam encontrar.
"Jardim de Inverno?" Mirian perguntou, ajustando o cap de pele enquanto olhava para um dos guardas. "Isso soa meio poético. Estamos indo ver um só punhado de flores congeladas, ou tem mais alguma coisa?"
Hoshi sorriu, tímido. "É um lugar mágico, senhorita. Cada planta foi trazida de partes diferentes do reino, algumas de terras tão distantes que só sobrevivem aqui por causa das baixas temperaturas constantes."
Liriel, sempre curiosa, inclinou a cabeça. "E por que ele se chama 'Jardim de Inverno'? Parece contraditório."
Dokyeom, respondeu com um tom baixo. "Algumas dessas plantas são tão perigosas quanto bonitas. O nome é apropriado. Beleza e morte coexistem ali."
As irmãs trocaram um olhar breve, ambas contendo um sorriso. "Perfeito," Mirian murmurou, irônica. "Um lugar tão assustador quanto o resto desse castelo."
Pouco depois, chegaram a um imenso portão de ferro ornamentado, decorado com esculturas de folhas geladas e flores detalhadas. Quando as portas se abriram com um ranger, uma lufada de ar frio escapou, carregando o perfume sutil de plantas raras. O Jardim de Inverno era uma visão que roubava o fôlego. Árvores cobertas de geada brilhavam como cristais sob a luz suave de lâmpadas encantadas que flutuavam pelo espaço. Arbustos de folhas prateadas refletiam o brilho, enquanto flores de cores impossíveis — azul cobalto, roxo profundo, e até um negro absoluto — floresciam em meio à neve.
Cada passo sobre o chão de pedras cobertas por uma fina camada de gelo emitia um som delicado, quase musical.
"O que é isso?" Liriel sussurrou, tocando uma flor que parecia feita de vidro. Sua transparência capturava a luz e a espalhava como um prisma.
"É uma 'Flamma Glacialis'," respondeu o guarda Seungkwan. "Uma flor rara que brilha mais intensamente quanto mais frio fica."
"Vocês deviam colocar uma placa de 'não toque' aqui," a morena comentou, cruzando os braços. "Parece que tudo isso pode nos matar se não tomarmos cuidado."
Seungkwan riu baixo. "Por isso estamos aqui, senhorita." Conforme exploravam mais o jardim, os guardas explicavam as histórias por trás de algumas das plantas, enquanto as irmãs comentavam sobre a beleza e o perigo à sua volta.
"Admito, é impressionante," Liriel disse, olhando ao redor. "Parece um pedaço de outro mundo."
"Outro mundo?" A gêmea repetiu. "Parece mais um lembrete de que estamos longe de casa."
Liriel virou-se para ela com um sorriso. "Talvez seja melhor assim. Não acha?"
Antes que a irmã pudesse responder, os guardas interromperam com um aviso gentil para que tivessem cuidado com as vinhas de uma planta próxima, que se moviam com o vento, parecendo vivas.
Enquanto caminhavam mais fundo pelo jardim, as irmãs começaram a relaxar, deixando a beleza do lugar suavizar seus pensamentos inquietos. Era como se o frio ali não fosse apenas uma ameaça, mas também uma espécie de conforto gelado que as fazia esquecer, mesmo que por um momento, tudo o que estava acontecendo fora daquele paraíso encantado.
E bem no centro de tudo, um coreto parecia flutuar, cercado por arbustos gelados que brilhavam como diamantes sob a luz etérea das lâmpadas mágicas. Sua estrutura era feita de ferro forjado e ornamentada com intrincados detalhes de folhas e flores, cobertas por uma camada fina de gelo que cintilava.
No centro, uma mesa de cristal reluzente repousava, coberta por uma toalha branca bordada com fios dourados que pareciam capturar a luz. Pratos de porcelana impecávelmente brilhantes estavam dispostos em perfeita simetria, cada um adornado com doces que pareciam saídos de um conto de fadas. Havia tortinhas com frutas translúcidas, macarons de cores vívidas, bolos em miniatura com cobertura espelhada e biscoitos com detalhes tão precisos que mais pareciam joias. No centro, um bule fumegante jazia sobre um suporte mágico, mantendo o chá quente com uma leve aura azulada que dançava ao redor dele.
"Então... teremos uma hora do chá?" Mirian perguntou, com uma sobrancelha arqueada, enquanto analisava a cena.
Antes que um dos guardas pudesse responder, uma voz profunda e firme ecoou atrás delas. "Exatamente."
Ambas as irmãs giraram rapidamente, encontrando o rei emergindo do fundo do ambient. Seu porte era impecável, ainda mais impressionante à luz suave que banhava o local. As roupas de inverno negras que usava destacavam a largura de seus ombros e o corte perfeito de sua figura.
O casaco longo, forrado com pele escura, dava-lhe um ar imponente, enquanto os cabelos levemente compridos estavam jogados para trás, revelando um rosto que parecia talhado por escultores divinos.
Os guardas imediatamente inclinaram-se em uma reverência, mas Seungcheol apenas acenou com uma mão, dispensando formalidades. Com passos firmes, ele aproximou-se da mesa e, com um movimento fluido, puxou uma das cadeiras para Liriel. Seus olhos a encontraram por um breve instante, e o peso de seu olhar era como um raio silencioso.
"Senhorita," ele disse, com um tom cortês, porém carregado de algo mais profundo.
Enquanto a mais velha se acomodava, um dos guardas, puxou a cadeira para Mirian, que, sorrindo, comentou: "Parece que a etiqueta aqui está melhorando. Estou impressionada."
O rei ignorou o comentário sarcástico de sempre e sentou-se em uma das cadeiras restantes, observando o grupo com uma expressão calculada, mas não desprovida de charme. Ele gesticulou para o chá. "Sirvam-se. Este é um dos melhores blends mágicos do reino. Espero que gostem."
El pegou uma xícara, ainda um pouco aturdida pela proximidade do rei. Seus dedos, cobertos por luvas finas, seguravam a delicada porcelana com cautela. Quando ela levou a xícara aos lábios, um aroma floral e levemente apimentado subiu, aquecendo seus sentidos antes mesmo do líquido tocar sua língua.
"Meu Deus, isso é... inacreditável," murmurou, os olhos brilhando com genuína surpresa.
"Não só o chá," acrescentou Mirian, pegando um dos doces e mordendo com um sorriso travesso. "Esses bolos... parecem uma provocação culinária. Vocês querem nos manter aqui pelo estômago?"
"Se funcionar," Seungcheol respondeu com um meio sorriso, o tom baixo e controlado.
Enquanto conversavam, o rei manteve um ar de superioridade tranquila, mas seus olhos vagavam sutilmente até a loira, especialmente quando ela sorria, mesmo que fosse raro. Joshua poderia ter sido mais expressivo em suas emoções, mas Seungcheol... ele se mantinha contido, embora sua intensidade fosse palpável.
Depois de um tempo, a mais nova, sempre mais ousada, inclinou-se levemente sobre a mesa. "Então, majestade, é sempre assim que vocês recepcionam prisioneiras no palácio? Chá, doces e um jardim encantado?"
Seungcheol riu, um som breve, mas genuíno. "Vocês não são prisioneiras. São aliadas. Embora... espero que valorizem esse tratamento. Ele não é comum."
Mirian trocou um olhar com a irmã e sorriu. "Bem, se isso é ser aliada, acho que podemos nos acostumar."
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Liriel mal havia dado a primeira mordida em um dos doces brilhantes quando sentiu aquele olhar. Pesado, fixo, invasivo. Ela tentou ignorar, mas era impossível. Cada movimento seu parecia estar sendo examinado por Seungcheol, como se ela fosse uma peça em um tabuleiro que ele precisava desvendar. Seus dedos congelaram na metade do caminho até a xícara de chá, e ela suspirou, irritada.
"Algum problema, majestade? Ou está tentando descobrir o quanto de doce consigo comer antes de explodir?" alfinetou, arqueando uma sobrancelha enquanto pousava a xícara com um movimento deliberado.
Seungcheol, imperturbável, apoiou o queixo na mão, seu sorriso ligeiramente inclinado, como se estivesse saboreando a provocação. "Nada disso. Só estou tentando entender como você consegue comer com tanta… elegância forçada. Parece um pássaro engolindo grãos pela primeira vez."
A mordida do doce quase desceu atravessada. Mirian, que estava saboreando uma delicada massa fina, engasgou levemente, tentando segurar o riso, enquanto os guardas atrás dela tossiam, claramente tentando disfarçar a diversão.
"Elegância forçada?!",o olhar fulminante. "E o senhor, por acaso, fez um curso avançado em observar pessoas enquanto comem? Ou é só mais um dos seus muitos talentos reais?"
Seungcheol riu, mas o som era baixo e cheio de provocação. "Eu me orgulho de ser multifacetado, senhorita. Talvez pudesse lhe ensinar algumas coisas… como, por exemplo, não esmagar o doce na mão como se estivesse matando uma barata."
A loira olhou para o doce em sua mão e percebeu que, de fato, o havia apertado um pouco mais do que deveria. Sentindo as bochechas corarem levemente, ela imediatamente largou o pedaço no prato e endireitou a postura. "Talvez o problema seja a qualidade do doce. É mais mole do que deveria. Mas, claro, como poderia entender algo sobre isso? Deve estar acostumado com tudo perfeito e sem falhas. Deuses me livrem de viver nesse tédio absoluto."
Seungcheol inclinou-se ligeiramente para a frente, apoiando os cotovelos na mesa e cruzando as mãos. "Tédio absoluto? É engraçado você dizer isso. Mas quem sou eu para julgar? Parece que estou aprendendo a apreciar o entretenimento que você proporciona, Liriel."
Mirian, agora comendo mais um pedaço de massa folhada, riu abertamente.
"Ah, por favor, continuem. Isso é melhor do que qualquer teatro que já vi."
A mais velha lançou um olhar de advertência para a irmã, mas voltou imediatamente sua atenção para Seungcheol, que agora a observava com aquele sorriso ligeiramente presunçoso. Ela sabia que ele estava adorando aquilo.
"Entretenimento, é?" Liriel retrucou, inclinando-se ligeiramente na direção dele. "Bem, fico feliz em proporcionar algum alívio para sua rotina enfadonha de rei. Talvez até me torne sua boba da corte, já que aparentemente essa posição está vaga."
"Ah, não creio que você tenha o perfil para boba da corte," Seungcheol respondeu com a voz baixa, mas firme. "Você tem a língua afiada demais para isso. E, além disso, já é um desafio mantê-la sob controle sem que tenha oficialmente esse cargo."
Os guardas, que haviam tentado manter a postura até então, finalmente soltaram um riso abafado. Um deles limpou a garganta, enquanto Mirian os olhava por cima do ombro com um sorriso travesso.
"Vocês aí atrás," disse, erguendo uma sobrancelha. "Vão tomar partido também ou só estão apreciando o espetáculo?"
"Estamos apenas... à disposição, senhorita," Hoshi respondeu rapidamente, embora seu sorriso fosse evidente. Liriel bufou e pegou a xícara de chá, tentando recuperar a compostura. "Sabe, majestade, acho fascinante como você sempre consegue a última palavra. Deve ser por isso que as pessoas ao seu redor preferem concordar com você do que argumentar. Quem poderia competir com tamanha... diplomacia mascarada?"
Seungcheol ergueu a xícara em um brinde irônico.
"E quem disse que quero competir? A última palavra, afinal, é privilégio de quem tem razão."
Mirian então levantará com um sorriso tão doce quanto diabólico. A gêmea não deu a menor chance de protesto, entrelaçando o braço com Seungkwan e praticamente o arrastando para fora do coreto.
"Sinto que comi muito, preciso de uma caminhada. Continuem o chá sem mim. Logo voltarei. Divirta-se, irmã," disse com uma voz exageradamente inocente, mas o brilho travesso em seus olhos entregava suas intenções.
Liriel apertou os dentes, os dedos agarrando a borda da mesa com força.
Ela a mataria. Aquela pirralha pagaria caro por aquilo.
Seungcheol observou a cena com calma, embora um leve sorriso de canto revelasse que ele entendia perfeitamente o que a mais jovem estava fazendo. Quando ela e Seungkwan desapareceram entre as árvores do jardim, ele voltou sua atenção para a loira, que ainda parecia à beira de explodir.
"Algo de errado, meu amor?" ele perguntou, acomodando-se mais na cadeira, como se estivesse prestes a aproveitar o espetáculo.
"Errado? Não, claro que não," ela respondeu, o sarcasmo gotejando de cada palavra. "Só estou considerando as variadas formas de fazer minha adorável irmã desaparecer sem deixar vestígios."
Seungcheol riu baixinho, aquele som grave e provocador que só a irritava ainda mais. Ele levou a xícara aos lábios, sem pressa.
"Você deveria agradecê-la, sabia? Talvez ela esteja lhe dando uma oportunidade valiosa."
Liriel arqueou uma sobrancelha, cruzando os braços. "Oportunidade? Para quê? Ser torturada com mais uma rodada do seu charme sufocante?"
"Charmoso, eu?" Seungcheol respondeu com um sorriso satisfeito. "Não sabia que pensava isso de mim, senhorita. Talvez esteja começando a me admirar."
Ela bufou, inclinando-se para frente, os olhos verdes faiscando. "Admiração? Só se for pelo fato de você conseguir irritar alguém até mesmo enquanto respira."
Ele repousou a xícara na mesa com um leve tilintar, os olhos nunca deixando os dela. "Interessante, porque eu diria o mesmo sobre você. Uma qualidade rara, devo admitir."
"Não tenho tempo para ser rara, majestade," ela devolveu, recostando-se na cadeira com os braços cruzados, o tom desafiador. "Estou ocupada demais sendo torturada com exercícios impossíveis e, agora, obrigada a aturar sua companhia forçadamente."
Ele inclinou-se levemente, os dedos entrelaçados sobre a mesa, os olhos brilhando com um misto de desafio e diversão.
"Se for tão insuportável assim, por que não tenta escapar? Estou curioso para ver o que aconteceria."
Liriel encarou, estreitando os olhos. "Você é mesmo insuportável. Mas não se preocupe, majestade. Se eu decidir escapar, farei isso de forma tão brilhante que nem perceberá até ser tarde demais."
Seungcheol riu de novo, aquele som grave e carregado de autoconfiança. Ele se recostou na cadeira, examinando-a como seriedade. "Se isso acontecer, amor, prometo que eu mesmo irei atrás de você. E não será para trazê-la de volta… será para ver como você sobrevive a mim."
A jovem sentiu o coração bater mais rápido, mas rapidamente o ignorou, convencendo-se de que era apenas raiva. Ela estava fervendo. A cada palavra que saia da boca de Seungcheol as farpas ricocheteavam como espadas em duelo.
"Você é inacreditável, sabia?" A loira finalmente exclamou.
“Inacreditavelmente impressionante, talvez,” Seungcheol respondeu com um sorriso confiante.
"Não," ela retrucou, cruzando os braços. "Inacreditavelmente irritante. Eu me pergunto como alguém consegue resistir à sua presença sem perder a cabeça."
Ele inclinou a cabeça, os olhos brilhando de provocação. "Pelo visto, você já está à beira de descobrir isso."
Liriel estreitou os olhos, a raiva borbulhando em cada centímetro do seu corpo.
"Sabe o que mais? Eu não preciso disso. Não preciso do seu sarcasmo, da sua arrogância ou de você me perseguindo pelo palácio como se fosse dono do meu destino."
Seungcheol deu um passo à frente, os lábios curvados em um sorriso lento e perigoso. "Eu sou dono do seu destino."
Ela bufou, os olhos faiscando como se quisesse incinerá-lo ali mesmo. Sem pensar, arrancou uma das luvas, jogou-a na mesa e, em um movimento rápido e certo, pegou uma das tortinhas delicadas que estavam no centro.
"Majestade", ela disse, com uma voz gotejando sarcasmo, antes de atirar a torta direto na cara dele.
Liriel impinouo queixo, como se acabasse de vencer uma batalha épica. "Com isso, encerro nossa adorável conversa." Ela girou os calcanhares e saiu batendo os pés.
O silêncio que se seguiu ao ato impulsivo foi quase ensurdecedor. Seungcheol ficou estático por um momento, sua expressão quase incrédula enquanto o creme escorria lentamente por seu rosto.
Os guardas congelaram em seus lugares, os olhos arregalados alternando entre a figura furiosa da dama, que já estava se afastando com passos firmes e cheios de indignação, e o rei, que ainda parecia processar o que havia acabado de acontecer.
“Você acabou de...?” Dokyeom começou a perguntar, mas sua voz morreu quando Seungcheol levantou uma mão, pedindo silêncio. Para a surpresa de todos, um riso grave e poderoso ecoou pelo coreto. Seungcheol inclinou-se para trás na cadeira, limpando parte da torta do rosto com os dedos e lambendo um pouco do creme que escorria até o canto de seus lábios.
"Delicioso," ele comentou, seu tom carregado de humor enquanto limpava o restante com um lenço de linho branco. "Eu deveria agradecer a senhorita Liriel por me mostrar outra utilidade para as sobremesas."
Os guardas, ainda desconcertados, trocaram olhares confusos. "Majestade... nós deveríamos... seguir a senhorita?"
Seungcheol olhou na direção pela qual ela havia partido, um brilho curioso e quase satisfeito dançando em seus olhos. "Não, deixem-na ir. Ela precisa esfriar a cabeça... e, talvez, as mãos também."
Ele então notou a luva dela esquecida sobre a mesa. Pegando-a com cuidado, ele a segurou por um momento, os dedos traçando os delicados bordados. Um aroma suave e inebriante, que ele assumiu ser dela, ainda pairava na luva.
Ele aproximou-a do rosto, inalando profundamente, e um pequeno sorriso curvou seus lábios. "Espírito feroz e coração indomável," ele murmurou para si mesmo, guardando a luva no bolso interno de seu casaco como se fosse um tesouro.
"Não se preocupem," Seungcheol disse, levantando-se e ajustando o casaco. "A senhorita ainda terá que me enfrentar novamente. Só espero que, da próxima vez, ela escolha uma arma mais digna do que uma torta." Com isso, ele deixou o coreto, os passos firmes, enquanto os guardas olhavam um para o outro, ainda chocados, mas certos de que haviam presenciado algo que ficaria marcado para sempre.
Os guardas, mais uma vez sem saber como reagir, ficaram imóveis, esperando alguma ordem.
an amazing and funny af writer that makes the best smaus 😤
some of my favourites from them here:
what is love - seokmin never expected to fall in love with a human - especially one that was supposed to be with somebody else.
fluff, angst, humor; cupid au, high school, urban fantasy, slice of life, mystery
(y/n) x lee seokmin
#weneedmoreleeseokminsmaus this rlly tickled my heart strings and made me laugh at the same time…reread count: 5 😙
newsflash! - university life can be hard when you get caught up with the SVT boys.
angst, humor, fluff; university harem, slice of life
(y/n) x (???)
THIS IS SO FUNNY. ANNNND it has a sequel move! that’s even more exciting than the first 😎
slow realizations - it was only playful teasing wasn’t it? he flirts countlessly with those around him - so why did he try so hard when it came to her?
fluff, humor, slice of life, highschool
wen junhui x? reader
this is a written piece made as a part of the what is love smau! but i think it’s a cute and sweet read on its own so check it out
id recommend reading literally every single piece on @cupidhaos ‘s masterlist...
🌷 - a flower for your hard work and amazing writing!!
pairings: none, but the characters include mingyu. wonwoo, jihoon, jeonghan (from svt) and an oc
genre(s): thriller, gore (tiny bit). a made-in-abyss!au :D
warnings: because of the previously mentioned gore, readers discretion is advised. also swearing!
word count: 4.06k words
synopsis: in which mingyu and his friends allow their naivety and curiosity to drive them forward, dropping them down a 20,000 metre abyss where the abnormal becomes far too evident. stumbling through nature’s phenomenon, the group is forced to experience horrors that sombre their once exhilarating endeavours. will they be able to be decisive when their friend’s life is on the line, and who is this red-eyed creature that promises them sanctuary?
author’s note: hey guys! unfortunately, this isn’t the genshin au i promised however i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless! i believe i published this a while ago on another account but i’m posting it again for content <3 also it was originally a y/n piece so please tell me if there’s a “you” or “your” that i’ve missed in my brief editing! the genshin au will come out soon :)
mingyu struggled to pinpoint an exact moment in his life which he could blame for his current circumstances.
it was as easy for him to say that sneaking into his good friends wonwoo and jihoon’s room past the stroke of midnight was the cause, as it were to say growing up at his local orphanage was at fault. hell, if the reasoning travelled down this path, it could also be justified that by simply existing he’d cause himself to arrive at his current position. perhaps this was his destiny, every event of his life leading up to this climax, worthless in the grand scheme of fate for every decision he had believed to have made was manipulated for the sole purpose of mingyu in the situation he was in as of present; torn with the constant conflict of emotion he was experiencing.
this was where his life had led him, 20,000 metres deep into a swirling, unforgiving vortex where the abnormal became evident with every blink of the eye, and where it intended to end, it seemed.
the sky overhead had vanished from sight two layers into the unnatural phenomenon, when the fog by their feet had thickened to a substance that clung moist against every vulnerable patch of skin and surface. mingyu never thought he would come to miss the cloudy skies of his mediocre hometown. where had his thirst for adrenaline gone now? but after a tormenting week treading deeper and deeper into the abyss’ claws, mingyu had yearned for familiarity.
when his stomach gave way on the third layer, mingyu missed most the plain bowl of congee the orphanage served to him every morning despite its lack of taste and colour.
when his eyes started to leak pus and blood, mingyu missed most the shimmering sun, burning on the edge of the horizon every evening despite its glare on his skin.
there was much the boy felt grateful for, oh how he only came to this realisation now, 20,000 metres far from home. his goal to reach the very depth of the abyss slipped from his hands like running water, gathered only by the company his friends provided him. mingyu never felt more grateful that he hadn’t entered alone.
if his naivety had gotten away from him yet again, mingyu shivered at the prospect of descending without the companionship of his three closest friends, wonwoo, jihoon and lyra. he never sourced his complaints outside of his head, for every disaster that he experienced, he knew his friends experienced the same suffering alongside him, comfort in the form of unspoken understanding. mingyu knew he would be able to overcome these mishaps as long as their companionship never left him.
however, god’s sense of humour must be twisted for the first night of the fifth layer, the last layer of mingyu’s sanity thinned.
“fuck!” jihoon swore. his hand shook in the tangles of his hair, the other hovering over wonwoo’s body as if uncertain. “fuck, fuck, fuck!”
mingyu heard jihoon’s cursing as if submerged underwater for his head went static from his own worry. he tipped his backpack upside down in desperation, seeking an item his sub-conscious knew didn’t exist. hadn’t they packed an antidote for this specific reason? but it had been long gone, shattered and spilt over the edge of a crumbling cliff after a desperate struggle of power between a gnarly beast and mingyu’s life. that mistake could possibly cost his friend’s life.
lyre caressed wonwoo’s hair as his head laid like deadweight on her lap, mouth dry against the dense air, chest heaving harsh pants. his eyes, heavily diluted, seemed to stare past her head at empty space and lyre may have lost all hope had it not been for the ghost of determination underlining the furrow of his brows. “wonwoo, i swear you’ll be okay, just hold on a little longer. mingyu’s getting the antidote now, he’s just a little slow. you know how clumsy he can get, just hang on, okay?”
but wonwoo had stopped giving replies ten minutes ago.
her hands, like her voice, trembled under the weight of a moist cloth, aiming to replace the steaming one on his head but fear diverted its path with every shake. doubt threatened to choke her of her words, leaving lyre curled up by the side of the abnormal rainforest, the world never viewed the same again. but she knew, if not marginally, that panic wouldn’t do the situation any more good.
jihoon seemed to have lost all sense of this concept however, as he continued to alternate between standing and pacing the grounds. “there has to be something i’ve forgotten, something that can help. think, jihoon, think!”
wonwoo hissed in pain then, and all three of his friends turned in fright. his arm had swelled to an abnormal size, pulsing liquid under his skin and shaded a dark purple.
“jihoon.” lyre called after the boy had settled, voice wavering. “wasn’t there something we learnt at school? something about the poison of []’s?”
“i know there was something, i know! but i can’t remember it!” jihoon let his words explode from his chest yet he heeds no apology. “damn it, what was it?” his eyes found mingyu across the field, still digging through the contents of their shared bags. “for fuck’s sake, leave the fucking bags, mingyu! they’re worthless right now.”
mingyu glanced up from his own world of regret and doubt, torment swimming in the pools of his eyes. the situation looked hopeless no matter what angle he portrayed it in. and, this had been his fault. his own carelessness, his naivety had prompted the death of his best friend. why hadn’t he listened to them all when they told him to step back from the pond? what had his mind been doing, telling him to continue his reckless behaviour just for the short lived praise he might have received? he had been pushed to the side when the lone [ ] had arrived at the scene, a creature so foreign and unknown that fear had short-circuited his actions.
he had stood frozen in the line of danger, horror encasing his body in suffocating crystals. it was wonwoo that had moved first, wonwoo who had considered all possible options which led him to sacrifice his own body for mingyu’s, wonwoo that had thrown himself at the creature, mingyu’s life and not his own being the only thing weighing on hid mind.
what had his last words been? the thought dawned on mingyu, like a nostalgic taste on the tip of his tongue. “don’t sulk, you look super dumb?” no, there was something else. something of potential importance, yet it mocked his grasp when he neared the truth. wonwoo’s whines of pain sounded as background noise at the point of his pondering, so familiar and yet gruelling at the pits of his stomach.
“something…” he mumbled, and lyre and jihoon looked up at the sound of his voice. “wonwoo said something before he couldn’t speak, what was it?”
“is this really the time?” jihoon snapped. “this isn’t the time.”
“jihoon, shut up. there was something he said before he became like this. i have a feeling he was trying to tell us how to deal with the situation.”
lyre turned her head from mingyu to the pale boy in her lap, a concentrated look evident in the crease between her eyebrows. mingyu caught the movement from the corner of his eye and clicked his finger at her. “lyre, you were the closest to him at the time. do you remember what it was?”
at the sudden spotlight, her mind blanked. there had been something previously, but the thought taunted and danced around the perimeter of her head as she tried, and failed, to chase it. “his arm, he mentioned something about his arm.” she finally blurted, his voice entering her head.
jihoon practically growled at the words. “well geez, that solves everything, doesn’t it? thanks for wasting our time, mingyu.” both mingyu and lyre took no offense to his harsh words; someone had to be the angry one in the current situation. lyre continued that train of thought, blocking out the noise of jihoon’s ranting, mingyu’s mumbling and wonwoo’s whimpers. she hoped that fate wouldn’t be so cruel as to give her this sliver of hope, thin and feeble in her hands, and that the solution to this dawning terror would be solved with the following revelation. “breaking something… he mentioned breaking something. what was it? a tree branch? true, the antidote of a beast should be found around the region so that its prey may survive from its poison. otherwise, the ecosystem would fail. but which tree? in this rainforest, what tree are we talking about. breaking apart… a bug? another small mammal? no, you wouldn’t break something with flesh, you would break something that’s hard. breaking… like snapping? breaking…”
jihoon continued to pace around you and wonwoo, head spinning in constant agony. there was fault coloured in the pale flush of his cheeks, why didn’t he know how to solve this issue? why didn’t he pull mingyu aside when the monster had first showed itself? and worse, why hadn’t he been the one to risk his life? why had he froze, selfish in the way that he valued his life over his dear friend’s, opting instead to leave someone else to do the harsh deed. why hadn’t he moved and pull wonwoo who laid by his feet out of harm’s way, instead standing still and letting the monster take a fierce chomp out of wonwoo’s arm? there was no doubt that if he had successfully performed the manoeuvre, wonwoo wouldn’t be in the position he was in now.
his feet crunched against a fallen stick as he paced and the noise triggered a thought in lyre’s head, her eyes widening in disbelief as it all clicked together.
“oh my god, his arm.” she murmured.
jihoon goes to quieten her, goes to tell her to stop obsessing over the idea of his arm when a tear slips from her eyes. the sheer terror from the thought evoked strong pulses of emotion to leak from lyre’s eyes like bleeding cyanide, but she pushed through regardless. how selfish would it be to only think of yourself whilst your friend suffered on the brink of death?
she looked jihoon in the eyes and repeated herself. “his arm. he wants us to snap his arm before the poison reaches his brain.”
lyre gave the boys no time to digest this new sliver of information, working instead to tear off a section of your shirt and wrapping it tightly where the poison had evidently stopped on his arm, black and purple, budging skin pressed against the material. in truth, lyre had no idea what she was doing, simply relying on memory and the many shows she’d watched to guide her movements as she tightened the knot.
the still silence broke when mingyu began to protest against the speculation, fearing the consequence of the action, but jihoon had moved to her side without further protest.
“guys, what are you doing? this isn’t right, we’ll just be killing him instead! guys, please stop, don’t think like that, there’ll be another way, please…” mingyu’s words failed to comprehend through his friends’ ears.
jihoon’s hands replaced lyra’s on the fabric and took over the job, eyes empty as he worked. only lyre saw the tremor in his hands as he tore more fabric and secured the separation of skin. his eyes meet the shivering girl’s over wonwoo’s body. “can you do this?”
her intake of breath is loud in the air shared between the two of you. clearly, jihoon had no idea what he was doing either, despite being the token medical friend. despite knowing that it was her idea, lyre shook her head softly.
“i’m going to use the axe that we kept to break his bones. can you help snap the rest?”
his words were gruesome, sickening to its core but wonwoo’s cries answered his question before she was able to, and she nodded seconds after. hesitance could cost wonwoo’s life.
mingyu stood over the two of them, passing the axe to jihoon with a grimace on his face. “god this is wrong, god this is so, so wrong.” but the transition is smooth as he lets the axe fall into his friend’s hands.
jihoon acknowledged the fact with an incoherent mumble before adjusting his grip on the tool. “mingyu, get me some water. we may not have disinfectants but if we don’t wash it, bacteria will kill him instead.”
the boy’s shadow left the trio. lyra placed a hand over wonwoo’s eyes, hoping that he wouldn’t catch a glimpse of what was to come. was he even conscious in the process? what if she had been wrong to think that his last words demanded the loss of a limb. this was by no means a perfectly successful strategy, but as it was all they had, so regardless of any .lingering whips of doubt, she held onto it like a lifeline.
“ready?” jihoon murmured.
the both of them nodded their heads slightly; there was no way they would be completely ready. but lyra’s hands found wonwoo’s biceps and they stayed there, stayed there until the axe swung up into the air, metal glinting in the reflection of the sun before falling from the force of gravity and the aid of jihoon’s strength. stayed there until the axe fell and met his flesh with a sickening thud.
a thud.
a blunt thud.
wonwoo’s shrill screams pierced through the previously tranquil atmosphere of the rainforest. his back lurched forward but mingyu had some sense to hold down his body before the axe had fallen. though mingyu had held down his body, wonwoo didn’t halt thrashing around. his arms pulsed under lyra’s hands and his legs kicked out for an escape.
“oh god.” jihoon exclaimed in horror, white sheet evident against his face. his hands shook and the axe fell to the floor.
underneath where the blade of the axe had fallen, crimson paint blossomed leaving a trail of broken skin and something else twisted. his flesh peaked from under the flabs of his skin, untainted until it was, blood and pus swimming from his arm.
wonwoo couldn’t stop screaming.
it was clear that jihoon had failed to touch the bone.
wonwoo’s eyes felt wet under lyra’s hands and she let out a weak sob.
jihoon froze.
mingyu struggled under wonwoo’s flailing figure.
“give it here!” mingyu was quick to shout, snatching the axe from the ground without a response, forcing jihoon to quickly melt his terror from his skin and throw himself onto wonwoo’s body.
wonwoo cries were deafening, coarse now from use and the strength in his limbs had weakened, allowing jihoon to hold down his body with more ease despite the weight difference.
mingyu swung without any indication of doing so, hard and fast against the same spot jihoon had attacked. this time, he pulled away with a weak crack. he whimpered at the noise but raised it again.
“oh my god.” lyra whimpered. “oh my god, why did we use a blunt axe?”
but mingyu doesn’t stop. he continued to swing the axe, up and down, letting the momentum aid his strength, letting wonwoo’s protests to stop fuel his stamina. there is a squelch among the splinters, a cry amongst the shouts but mingyu never falters. he doesn’t falter when lyra moved her own hands to help settle the body, avid to stop his movements. he doesn’t stop when wonwoo’s voice crack, soundless screams like the cries of tormenting ghosts whispering regret and fault into his ears. he doesn’t stop when the boy’s eyes roll back into his head, revealing murky white. and he doesn’t stop when wonwoo’s body finally falls slack on the floor, limp and drained of all energy from the continued torture he had undergone.
he only stopped when the arm separates completely from the body, a tattered arm lying lifelessly away from its previously conjoined biceps, adorned with the colour of fresh blood and oozing pus. the wound pulsated with flowing blood.
“water!” mingyu cried. he turned to a shell-shocked jihoon whose eyes had watched without blinking. “get the water, goddamnit!”
perhaps it was his tear-stricken face, or his eyes that reflected a haunted expression due to the fact he axed away at his friend, but jihoon finally moved. he’d leapt to grab their source of water and begun to pour it without thought at the injury.
lyra gasped, taking in the oxygen that your body severely lacked. “stop, you’re wasting it! put the bottle closer!”
truthfully, half of the spent water and rushed and spilt onto the jungle floor, worthless to their current situation. the boy instantly followed after your words, edging nearer to the smell of rotting flesh and decay. the boy felt faint at the scent, more so at the sight. god, there was so much blood.
mingyu rebooted and finally began to move again. “tear off your shirt.”
the girl hesitated at his words.
“tear off your shirt!” he repeated with more intended force.
she was quick to break out of her trance and began to tear long stripes of cotton from her attire, mingyu doing the same. in a clumsy, almost child-like way, the three of you attempt to bandage the leaking wound as best as you can, but the white cloth turns scarlet red as soon as its placed. a hopeless sob escaped your throat. had you just murdered your friend?
the almost lifeless body laid like a corpse on the ground, pale in his complexion and unconscious. he would have been mistaken for dead had it not been for the shallow breaths the three of them heard occasionally. when the sun had fallen, the bleeding had eased. simply for a lack of supple, lyra wondered in half-hearted ponder. she felt lightheaded in the sense that thought ran away from her. she wished for water, but they had used the majority in hopes of washing wonwoo’s wound.
it seemed hopeless all over again.
“oh my. perhaps it’s finally my time to step in.”
lost in her own world of panic, lyra missed the words of a newcomer though it appeared jihoon hadn’t.
“who are you?” jihoon asked, successfully gaining lyra’s and mingyu’s attention away from the body though it lingers on their minds. hostility crept into the boy’s voice as he continued. “what do you want?”
the source of the unfamiliar voice stemmed from a figure hidden within the shadows of the towering trees. none of the three could determine the identity of the creature causing suspicion to raise.
the creature walked from beneath the tree’s shade, a smug-like expression adorning their face. they appeared human-like, sharing similar features with the humans lyra was familiar with. they had normal curly, black hair that tickled the tips of his ears, eyes that curved like crescents and a mouth in which appeared to be in a constant mocking state. they would have come off as human save for the sharp teeth that glimmered in his grin and the red, hungry look in his eyes. “my name is jeonghan.” he explained.
“are you… human?” mingyu wondered.
the thing chuckled as if he found something the boy said humorous. “that’s funny, as if i could possibly downgrade.”
jihoon positioned his boy to protectively angle his body against the strange creature. “what do you want from us?”
jeonghan tilted his head. “why, what does it look like i’m doing?”
“it looks like you’re being a nuisance.” he answered. grabbing at the axe, he placed it between the four of you and the red eyed beast. wonwoo’s blood dripped from the edge of the blade to which jeonghan raised his eyebrows at. “stay back.” but jihoon’s voice betrayed his attitude and cracked under the pressure.
“put the axe down, jihoon.” jeonghan warned, taking a step forward. despite his firm voice, his lips wavered as if to conceal a smile.
“how do you know my name?” the boy replied instead of complying. despite jeonghan stepping closer, jihoon’s threats made no appearance. he had entered the abyss in hopes to solve the lifelong mystery of where it came from, not to fight a mystical creature. nothing in his life had trained him for this
“you two were screaming it so much it was hard to miss. it would be, rather, more shocking if i hadn’t heard it.” jeonghan said, gesturing to lyra and mingyu. “you two should really keep it down, by the way, or you’ll wake stronger beasts than the one you encountered before, you know, the one that bit your friend? and then even i wouldn’t be able to save you from them.” he hesitated and you flinched from his words. “well, maybe i could.”
mingyu took the silence that followed after as an opportunity to speak. “this sounds like you’re here to help us?”
jeonghan shrugged and mingyu noticed that he had been steadily closing the gap between him and the group but he let the thought slide. he were tired, oh so tired from the fear of losing his friend, the adrenaline from contributing to said friend’s loss of a limb and now this, a potential threat. perhaps death called, though it couldn’t be so bad if it promised a peaceful rest.
“i would simply be delighted to aid you in your…” he glanced around jihoon’s guarding figure to wonwoo’s body. “successful attempt to save your friend.” he finally spoke, words coming out rather slowly. “however, my buddy jihoon here, seems to be opposed against my gracious decision. perhaps you want wonwoo to die, jihoon buddy ol’ pal?”
jihoon looked to be physically in pain, teeth grinding upon each other. his mouth opened to say more but mingyu placed a firm hand on his arm. “we’ll accept.” mingyu said. “please save our friend.” the boy glanced at jihoon and shook his head desperately. “wonwoo doesn’t have time for us to argue.” he offered as explanation and when jihoon sighted wonwoo, he found himself agreeing.
“fine. please help us, jeonghan.” he muttered, hands still tightening on the handle of the axe though he lets his arm drop.
the creature clapped his hands in excitement. “excellent! i knew you would come around, jihoon.”
lyra cut into the conversation before jihoon could take the bait and bite back. “how are you going to save him? what are you going to do?”
the desperateness must have coloured her tone for jeonghan turned to face her. his eyes were haunting when they settled on hers for the first time, seemingly delving deep into her soul and prying deep into her memories. they left no surface unturned, a hurricane in his wake, the smile engraved into the crevices of her mind as he spoke once more. “come back with me and i’ll show you.”
lyra watched as jeonghan turned from her, colour returning into her sight as his figure began to disappear against the backdrop of the rainforest. she heard only her faint breaths and the whistle of perching birds, heads tilted in curiosity as they watched the event that occurred in the world beneath them. her eyes find mingyu’s which have been hardened beyond recognition and the two of you knew that the moment would forever be etched into the wrinkles of their brains. if they were to ever survive this, it would only mean elongated suffering.
there were tears in lyra’s eyes at the prospect of failing their initial endeveurs to explore the hidden depths of the unknown phenomenon. hadn’t they only wanted to explore what the abyss had offer? hadn’t they simply wanted the thrill of adventuring with your childhood friends, seeking out a journey that would be inked in history? and now the reality of the world had sunken into their bones like cement.
the four of them had barely descended past the fifth layer, edging on the boundaries and the concept of returning knocked on your mind like an unwanted friend.
jihoon stood, rustling the wind at the sudden disturbance. he swung wonwoo’s only arm over his shoulder and wordlessly trekked after jeonghan whose back was almost consumed by the forest’s shadows. there was only one option and jihoon knew this, knew this before the rest of his friends did.
mingyu followed after jihoon, zipping up his backpack and tossing it over his shoulder. he offered lyra a hand as he passed her on the floor, which she accepted. an unspoken nod is bounced back between the two, something like determination and acceptance in the gesture.
whatever was in their path of destiny had to be overcome no matter its challenge, for the four of them had descended so far to die only at its fifth layer.
After committing a crime so cruel that even an execution won't do, Wonwoo finds himself as a Goblin, searching for the one soul destined to take his sword out of him. But throughout his long, long lifetime, he finds himself meeting that soul, Mingyu, again and again until Mingyu reaches the lifetime in which he has to take Wonwoo's sword out.
4.4K words
Note: Goblins are immortal and have the ability to travel to different places by opening doors (open the door to your bedroom but end up in another place) ! Just some info so you’re not comfused if you haven’t watched the drama :-)
Hello! This is the second fanfic I’m writing on here! I posted this on Asianfanfics.com but I thought I’d put it on here too :-) Also! This fic is HEAVILY inspired by the popular K-drama, goblin! But I changed a lot of things and the plot is completely different, its just a few things that I chose to keep. Regardless, this fic was inspired by Goblin so if you like this fic, you should go watch it!
They say that humans have four lives, and that afterwards, the soul finally gets to go to a higher place. They say that those who’ve killed themselves become grim reapers, and that those who commit heinous acts will be cursed as immortal until they find their brides. They say all of that, but who really believes it?
--
Wonwoo didn’t mean to slaughter a whole village. He didn’t know what he was doing, he just knew that whatever the king wants, the king gets. It didn’t hit him that he and the group of soldiers that he led single handedly took the lives of countless individuals until he found himself kneeling in front of the king with his hands bound to his back and an executioner fastening a blindfold to his eyes, preparing him for what’s to come. His whole body shuddered as beads of sweat dripped down his face. He wasn't sure if it was out of fear or out of heat. Maybe both. His execution was scheduled for the night, so there were rings of fire circling him, illuminating what was to come.
He realized in what was supposed to be his final moments that he didn’t do what the king wanted. He and his soldiers were only supposed to kidnap the king, but the selfish desire deep within him that he didn’t know existed caused him to kill a village.
He uttered one final apology, finding that there were no tears left in him as he prepared himself for his death.
The sword piercing his body felt like nothing to him. Even when he felt himself choke up blood and his body begin to burn in pain, he felt nothing but guilt. He was a monster and deserved this. He deserved to die the death of a public execution. He deserved to die due to the war that was to ensue due to his actions. He didn’t deserve to open his eyes ever again.
So when they did open, he was confused.
He scanned the barren fields around him, and was greeted with an old man who appeared beside him in an instant.
“How am I here? How...Why am I here?” He asked quietly, afraid that somebody from the town might somehow hear him in the vacant fields. He looked down at his stomach and saw the sword that stabbed him days prior. But it was different now. It was transparent and glowed, but if he chose not to focus on it, he wouldn’t see it. He tried to touch it, but his hand went right through it. He gave the man a questioning look.
The old man sighed deeply as he scanned the young man before him.
“Have you ever heard of a Goblin?”
--
The first time he met Mingyu was in a small town in England. He decided to leave Korea as a whole and move somewhere he’d never be found, and decided that England would be a good start.
Besides, he had an eternity to learn English.
Mingyu, who’s name at the time was Mark, worked at a local bakery in their rural town away from the Royal Palace. Royalty didn’t seem to matter to their quaint way of living. Wonwoo was the only foreigner in the town, and was often questioned about his whereabouts and how he traveled from the orient to here. He couldn’t lie and say that he teleported, because they’d just try to burn him for witchcraft, so he lied and said that he travelled from China to import tea.
They didn’t need to know that he was Korean, anyways, because to them it was all the same.
Mark was one of the only people who didn’t question him for not being European, and their friendship soon grew.
Wonwoo found it easy to suppress certain feelings throughout his life, from being in training, to being in battle, to then having to go into hiding.
It was easy to suppress these feelings when he couldn’t relax and bask in them, but sitting here with Mark made his heart beat just a little faster than he would have liked.
Mark grew up strictly catholic and made no advances towards Wonwoo, but the lingering stares and the jolts of electricity that ran through their bodies as they brushed their fingertips over tea was enough to suffice.
As Mark grew older, he began to question Wonwoo’s age. They’d been friends for ten years, and Mark was now balding and developing wrinkles, yet Wonwoo kept his pristine complexion and didn’t seem to age at all.
Wonwoo always brushed him off with a comment along the lines of “Asians don’t age”, but Mark wasn’t stupid.
Mark knew deep down that there was something supernatural about his friend, but he didn’t push on it. Even when he laid on his deathbed in their shared apartment, fifty years later and completely bald, wrinkled, weak and brittle, he didn’t question Wonwoo’s youth.
Wonwoo pressed a kiss to his forehead as he said goodbye to his friend, and prayed that it wasn’t Marks last life.
That was the first time he felt the pain of a Goblin. He had initially felt grateful to whomever the old man had been before, but now all he felt was sorrows and regret. He thought that his execution was enough, but he knew that he deserved this.
--
The second time he met Mingyu was 100 years later in New York, United States.
Shortly after Mark's death, Wonwoo decided to leave Europe to forget about him, hence finding himself in the busy streets of New York. He initially didn’t like the big city, but he felt like the growing city was a good way to forget about his past “lover”.
He even got an education. He was immune to diseases and wanted to help people, so he became an ER doctor to save lives.
This was his way of making up for his past. For every person he killed, he would save ten people.
With his new task and busy work days, he soon was able to forget about Mark.
That was until a fateful day in the hospital, where Michael, a respiratory therapist from the other hospital along with his assistant, Siyeon, came in to treat an ill patient.
Wonwoo wasn’t assigned to the patient, but checked in during his break to see if he could be of any assistance. He didn’t look at Michael when first entering the room, not out of rudeness but out of simple concern for the patient. However after doing a quick rundown of whatever procedure needed to be done, he turned to Michael to ask if he needed help.
But Wonwoo didn’t hear a word Michael said, because all he could feel is a rush of electricity pulsing through his veins and tingling in his feet as he looked into Michael's eyes.
Siyeon politely nudged Wonwoo after a short period of time, asking if he was okay. She explained that he’d been staring at Michael for a few seconds without saying anything.
Wonwoo nodded his head, clarifying to the duo that he had a long shift and that he just needed some fresh air.
He spent his lunch break outside, barely touching his sandwich as his mind raced with the previous events.
He’s alive
But his thoughts were cut short quickly as Siyeon, the assistant, called out to him as she jogged over, her lunch bag clutched in her fists.
“I’m going to be blunt with you, Dr. Jeon.” She started, staring deep into his eyes. “Are you a Goblin?”
Wonwoo’s eyes widened as his mouth hung open.
He blinked a few times at her, mumbling a few times about why she’d ask that, before she interrupted again.
“I’m a grim reaper.” She stated, sitting down on the bench next to him. “And I think you’re a goblin because I can’t get a read on you. I don’t know when you’ll die, so I’m assuming that you’re a Goblin, right?"
Wonwoo scanned his surroundings, deciding that they were secluded enough to talk in public.
“If I wasn’t a Goblin, then what would I be?” He questioned.
He didn’t understand why she was confused about what he was. If she couldn’t get a read on him, wouldn’t that make it perfectly clear?
“You could also be a lost soul. You know, somebody who is supposed to die, but doesn’t?” She explained, leaning back in her seat comfortably, eyeing Wonwoo as he processed his new information.
“Oh…” He trailed off. “Well, you were correct, I’m a goblin. I didn’t know lost souls existed.” He said.
“Really?” She asked, taken aback. “But a lost soul is gonna be the person to save you.” She grinned at his confusion, explaining further. “You’ll save a person one day, whether that be
through your job here at the hospital or through your powers as a goblin. But they’ll then develop supernatural abilities that will allow them to see your sword.” She pointed to the protruding sword from his torso, cocking her head to the side.
Wonwoo’s eyes went directly to his torso, where the transparent sword glowed.
“They’ll be able to pull out your sword and then you’ll be able to die. So, save as many lives as you can.” Siyeon patted Wonwoo’s shoulder as she got up, getting ready to go back to her shift.
“But you have plenty of time. I know you remember Michael from his past life. He will be the one to pull your sword out, but not in this lifetime.”
He never tried to see Michael again after that, but he had faith that he’d meet Michael’s soul again.
--
The third time he met Mingyu was 100 years later in Quebec City, Canada.
After “getting another job offer” in Canada, Wonwoo studied up on French and moved to Quebec. He decided to take a break from being a doctor and focused on music. He decided that saving lives isn’t just medical, and that music can help and heal people just as much as medicine. The pay was significantly lower than he was used to, but his savings kept him afloat as he performed gigs at local pubs and coffee shops.
Technology was growing, so he was able to record a CD with his songs. He was amazed at what humans were able to do, and was almost thankful to have been able to live to see the change in the world.
Wonwoo finished up his last song for the night at the coffee house he’d been performing at, and graciously accepted the applause. He spent the rest of the night in a local pub with a few friends, one being Siyeon, as they drank the night away.
Siyeon quit her job as a medical assistant due to her deaths rising up and getting in the way of her work.
Her grim reaper priorities were far more important than her other jobs.
She found an interest in French music and bought a vinyl with a familiar name to the title, and eventually she made her way up to Quebec to annoy Wonwoo.
But he wasn’t annoyed by her at all.
She kept him company, and it was nice to know that when their friend group dies, she’ll still be there to mourn with him.
The group drank until they could barely walk, stumbling up to Wonwoo’s fancy apartment.
His friends often asked how he managed to afford the place, but he brushed them off and claimed that it was inheritance.
However Wonwoo’s apartment was a few floors up, and living in Old Quebec, there were no elevators available, so the group had to force themselves up the stairs.
What was normally an easy, but tiring, walk soon became a marathon for Wonwoo.
He wasn’t usually this clumsy, but after missing a step, he found himself falling flat onto his face.
“Are you alright?” A worried voice asked.
Wonwoo brushed it off as one of his friends, holding his hand out for one to take.
But the jolt of electricity that was brought to his fingertips sobered Wonwoo up completely.
He stood up, wiping away at any dust that might’ve been left on him, before looking up at the man before him.
“Hi..” The man started “Are you alright? I noticed you fall, and…” He trailed off.
“I’m great.” Wonwoo said, feeling heat rise to his cheeks as he stared deeper into the eyes of the man before him.
“Oh!” The man exclaimed awkwardly, pointing to the door adjacent Wonwoo’s.” I’m Mattheu, your new neighbor.”
Wonwoo grinned, reaching out to shake Mattheus' hand again, feeling himself melt into his touch.
Siyeon eyed the two of them, raising an eyebrow as the duo made heart eyes for each other.
She ushered the rest of their friend group out of the apartment building, promising a place to sleep in her apartment a few stories down.
It was clear as day to Siyeon that Wonwoo’s relationship to Mattheu was going to be a lot different than the ones he’d had with Mattheu’s soul before. In the past, they could never be together in public, however in the 20th century city of Quebec, the duo can live the way they want.
Wonwoo had never experienced happiness like what he experienced with Mattheu. Their good morning kisses, their homemade dinners, and the love they had for each other made Wonwoo’s heart swarm with warmth and joy.
Until Mattheu began to get sick.
It was little things at first, but Wonwoo knew after a few weeks what was happening.
Mattheu had told Wonwoo about his past lovers, and how there were many nights that went unprotected, but he truly thought that he wouldn’t be one of them.
One to get AIDs, that is.
Wonwoo knew he was safe from it, but that just made him feel worse. His lover would have to die, and he couldn’t even die with him.
Mattheu hung in there for a little while, trying his best to keep his routine but becoming weaker and weaker as time went on, until one day, Mattheu didn’t hum in contentment as Wonwoo smothered him in his good morning kisses, didn’t sigh deeply as he felt the duvet being pulled from him, and didn’t open his eyes to see the love and adoration that Wonwoo held in his own.
Siyeon tried to help him, holding him as he cried and tucking him into bed every night, but he couldn’t stay anymore. He couldn’t stay in this apartment, in this city, in this country anymore. It was time for a change.
--
The fourth time he met Mingyu was 80 years later in Seoul, South Korea.
He needed to go home after Mattheu passed.
He put off going to the country that hated him in fear that he’d be ridiculed and exempt from ever stepping foot on Korean soil, except...it didn’t hate him.
Because what he did centuries ago didn’t even make it to the textbooks, and as it turns out, his actions never caused a war. The other villages grew defensive once they heard about the attacked village, however after hearing about Wonwoo’s death, they decided to accept it and move on.
So he felt comfortable again in South Korea.
He went back to being a doctor after moving back, and prayed to whomever may be listening that French music never makes its way over to South Korea, because he grew a bit of a following and didn’t want to be known as the “Hot, singing doctor who knows French”.
Siyeon also followed Wonwoo, deciding that she, too, would like to go home.
Siyeon never really knew what she did to make her commit suicide, so she wanted to see if being in Korea would trigger something in her.
Wonwoo ran a hand through his hair as he looked down at his clipboard of things to do, scribbling down a few notes here and there as he enjoyed the calm morning environment.
But that was quickly replaced by chaos as a new nurses rushed in a patient who’d seemingly been hit by a car.
He quickly rushed over to her bed and examined her current state.
Her arm was nearly dislocated, her chest seemed to have taken a big blow with the blood ushering through a wound, and her face was completely scratched at.
He told the nurses to grab some anesthetics as he began to prep her for emergency surgery, however she began to plead weakly as he vocalized his plans.
“I'm pregnant” she repeated to him through labored breaths. “Be careful and save my baby”
Wonwoo’s mind raced as he thought of what to do.
He knew that if he played it safe, she’d be able to make it, but a fetus so small that it was barely visible to the outside world wouldn’t.
And he couldn’t let his patient down.
He scanned the room again to ensure that nobody had their eyes on him before he told his patient to close her eyes.
He put his hand over her stomach and used his powers to heal her. Not completely, but just enough to ensure that whatever may be growing inside of her does so with no problems.
He rarely used his powers to heal others, opting to stick to his medial knowledge. But he swore to himself that if he could save somebody, he'd do it no matter what.
The nurses rushed in with needles and other equipment seconds after he finished, and he thanked whomever may be up there that they didn’t see what he had done.
He let another doctor take control of the patient's surgery, and visited her only after she was fully healed and was able to sit upright.
He hoped that she would have been too out of it to have noticed what he’d done to her stomach, but once the nurses that took care of her left for their other patients, she tapped on her stomach and smiled.
“My eyes were closed, but the glowing that came from your hand was too bright to not notice.” She smiled softly. “I won’t tell anyone, but I just wanted to say...thank you.”
Wonwoo smiled back at her, wishing her the best of luck on her pregnancy and journey throughout motherhood.
He turned to leave the room before glancing back at her, a question popping into his head.
“Do you have names picked out?”
His patient pondered for a moment, rubbing her stomach as she thought.
“If it's a girl, I’d name her Eunwoo.”
Wonwoo grinned. He liked the name a lot and complimented her on it.
The patient took another moment to think, cocking her head to the side as she decided.
“And if it’s a boy, I think I’ll name him Mingyu.”
--
The fifth and time he met Mingyu was 20 years later in Seoul, South Korea.
Wonwoo made his way to the library, enjoying his first few days of his break from working.
He again made the decision to take a break from being a doctor, deciding that he wanted to learn how to write instead.
He thought about his life and how big of a hit it would be to write a book on it.
So that’s what he decided to do.
He sat down in his usual spot as he began his writing process: make a bullet point list of the progression of events, then write for an hour, and then scroll on his phone.
The new iPhone came out, and he was over the moon with what he could do with it.
Siyeon called him out for still having a flip phone in 2020, so he finally upgraded to an iPhone.
He loved all of the social media apps, but he found himself drawn to twitter the most.
He could tweet out anything he wanted and it would be there forever. Amazing.
He leaned back in his chair as he scrolled, giggling to himself as he read the tweets from a few of his favorite artists. He felt like a little kid, but it made him happy.
It almost made him miss the way the person across from him stared at him.
Or rather, his torso.
Wonwoo glanced up from his phone and raised an eyebrow to the person across from him.
And then he felt a familiar tingle again.
But this time, the tingle came from his torso as he saw the sword appear before him again, glowing brighter than ever before.
The man across from him got up and made his way over, giving Wontoo a toothy grin as he pointed to the sword.
“So...I see you have a sword in you.”
Wonwoo’s mouth went dry and his hands began to clam.
Is this it? He thought to himself. Am I gonna finally die today?
“Uh…” The man continued “I’m Mingyu, your "Bride", by the way. I’m assuming you’re the Goblin I was destined to save?”
Wonwoo nodded his head weakly, his arms trembling as he reached out to shake Mingyu's hand.
“We don’t have to do this now, you know.” Mingyu reassured, patting Wonwoo’s back in an attempt to calm him down.
But they did. Once you meet your bride, you need to perform the execution within the next few hours. Otherwise, the Goblins bride could be in danger.
Wonwoo melted in Mingyu's touch as a deep sigh left his lips.
He looked up at Mingyu after some time to introduce himself as well as to tell him his story.
He told Mingyu about what he did to become a goblin, about all of the places he’d lived, and about the times that he met Mingyu’s soul. He told Mingyu about his plans to write a book about his experiences, about the long, long life he lived. He told Mingyu that he almost wishes that he could live forever at this point. Almost. But he's ready to leave this world, now.
Mingyu smiled at him, rubbing hands reassuringly.
“Humans have four lives, right?” Mingyu asked, earning a nod from Wonwoo. “So after this life, I’ll go to...wherever souls go, right?” Wonwoo nodded again.
“So we will be together then, Wonwoo. Mark, Michael, Mattheu, and I. We will be there with you when I’m done living this life.”
The thought of being reunited with Mingyu’s soul for eternity brought tears to Wonwoo’s eyes as he began to sob quietly.
Mingyu stayed with him until Wonwoo calmed down, picking up his phone to call Siyeon, who quickly rushed over to meet the duo.
They said their tearful goodbyes, and Siyeon promised that she only had a few lives left to take before her duty as a Grim Reaper was over. Afterwards, she’d join him up there and keep him company as he waited for Mingyu’s soul to finish living it’s last life.
Wonwoo and Mingyu held hands as they made their way to a barren field on the outskirts of Seoul.
Wonwoo thought it would be best to do it here, as there would be nobody around to watch him disintegrate into thin air.
Memories of waking up in a similar field, complete confusion and the start of his new life washed over Wonwoo has he took in his final moments.
Mingyu, despite only meeting Wonwoo for the first time today, felt a deep sense of sorrow as Wonwoo stopped in his tracks, turning to face Mingyu with a soft smile.
Wonwoo felt content with his surroundings, he felt content with Mingyu beside him, and he felt relieved to finally be done with living.
Wonwoo took Mingyu’s reluctant hands and placed it onto the sword, squeezing it slightly as a signal that he was ready.
“Wonwoo…” Mingyu started, tears forming in his eyes.
“Hmm?” Wonwoo asked, looking up at him.
“I’ll see you again before you know it, alright?”
Wonwoo nodded, smiling softly as he felt the sword finally leave his body.
Then he felt himself float.
Then he felt nothing.
Jeon Wonwoo was gone from this Earth, but he was watching from above.
--
The last time he met Mingyu was in his heaven.
Wonwoo felt someone pepper his face with kisses as he stirred awake.
He opened his eyes slightly to adjust to the light that cascaded through the blinds by the window.
He knew that window.
He rubbed his eyes before opening them again, reevaluating the room.
This was his apartment in Quebec.
The kisses plastered to his face stopped momentarily as a pair of hands grasped at his cheeks, turning his face to the side.
There he saw Mingyu, grinning at him as he pulled Wonwoo into a kiss.
Wonwoo melted in his touch, feeling slightly delirious as he held onto Mingyu’s hand.
“M-Mingyu...You’re here?”
Mingyu nodded, pushing a few strands of hair from Wonwoo’s forehead before pressing a kiss to it.
“I’m here. Do you know why we are here?” Mingyu asked.
Wonwoo shook his head, scanning the room again.
“It’s our heaven, Woo.” Mingyu said.
“I..I thought I was in heaven…” Wonwoo trailed off.
Prior to here, he’d been with Siyeon as they wandered around with their friends.
He was happy there.
But being here with Mingyu, that was indescribable.
“You were in your heaven, but now you’re in our heaven. This is where we live now. Together.”
Together
Hey guys! If you liked that, I also have a few fics on Asianfanfics.com! I might post a few on here depending on how well this does lol. Thank you for reading!
Her lids were getting heavier, but her gaze was going back and forth to the patient that she was supposedly looking after. It's not that she didn't want to do this job, it's just that the silence bores her.
Since they have fewer clients, the hospital had to lay off some employees, and luckily (unluckily) she was chosen to stay. But the downside is that she had to be on her own during night shifts.
She was actually an introvert, but right now she craves for an interesting conversation. One she wouldn't get from a confused, aphasic patient. But she didn't want to complain, afterall, she was there to work.
But then she just had to finish everything by 2am unintentionally, which left her with 6 hours time to kill, since the patient was stable.
She searched for her friends who might be awake at this hour, but there was none (obviously). Feeling daring, she tried to search for an app where she could chat someone. She really just wanted to talk to anyone, even though she knew what mostly happens in random chats, but of course she wouldn't cross that line.
First, she had to pick the gender she's interested in, then she had to click her age. Certainly, this is some dating modus that she's not looking for, but then again, she was bored. She picked Watashi wa Hana as her nickname, just because.
Most private chats would start with the usual "Hi" and "Hello", then random people with weird nicknames, would ask what country she's from. She contemplated for a bit whether to be honest, but she realized that lying would kinda be stupid.
To filter the chatboxes that kept appearing, she started the conversation with, "I'm kinda curious, why did you join this app?" As predicted, most would be so straight forward and would ask if she could send pics or do some sexy stuffs. Those private chats would automatically be deleted, she's not here for this.
TigerEyes would like to chat with you. She read. Unlike the others, he didn't start with the usual intro.
TigerEyes: r u Japanese?
WatashiWaHana: No, just got it from the lyrics of my favorite song
TigerEyes: Which is?
She immediately got that spark igniting within her, the same she got whenever she speaks to someone about her favorite music or other interests. She felt the need to promote but realized that she needed to tone it down.
WatashiWaHana: Some Japanese song. I think the title is Fallin' Flower. Sounds so catchy.
TigerEyes: Maybe I'll check it out. I'm boooooooored
That caught her attention, maybe he's just like her.
WatashiwaHana: Me too. Why did you join this app? I'm curious
TigerEyes: Hmm to have fun ofc. (Another predictable answer, she thought) Why, do you have anything else in mind?
Why does that sound so. . .provocative. Or was it just her imaginations?
WatashiwaHana:I like conversations, I just wanted someone to talk to. I'm bored
TigerEyes: okaaay, let's start a conversation then. What are your interests?
Hmmm nice, at least someone with sense, she said to herself. Maybe he'd be worth talking to.
WatashiwaHana: I like travelling, dancing, music. How 'bout u?
TigerEyes: I like dancing too, I sometimes do choreographies 😉
WH: That's impressive, you must be so creative.
TigerEyes: Yes I am, I could be sooo creative, I could fulfill your fantasies.
That was disappointing. She huffed.
She tapped her phone, while deciding whether to reply or not. It was the longest convo she had here so far, it seems like a waste to delete this chatbox.
TigerEyes: What are your fantasies?
She decided to be playful.
WH: I have lots of fantasies. In what exactly?
TigerEyes: Hmmm..What do you expect from this conversation?
He seems like a much more deeper person than she expected, but she get it that he's trying to be like everyone else who uses this app.
WH: I really just wanted to converse with someone, but I get what most people wanted to gain from this.
Most people? That didn't sound right for him, he didn't like to be like everyone else. But he gets why she thinks that way. He wanted to blame it to this stupid app, while denying his true intentions from awhile ago.
WH: It's cliche, really
TigerEyes: Fun
WH: Am I boring you already? (She laughed nervously, it's just how introverts are, she expected this already) Anyways nice chatting with you
She almost turned off her phone, when
TigerEyes: Wait. Let's make this interesting then
WH: Depends on your idea of interesting
TigerEyes: Oh no, depends on yours. What do you want? You told me you want conversations. So let's do that 😁
WH: Do you have any acquaintances here?
TE: I'm actually new here. Honestly I had a girlfriend but we broke up. I kinda miss her especially when I needed a company
WH: Oh that sucks. Do you want to tell me about it? They say that talking 'bout it helps you move on
TE:********
WH: You don't want to? That's okay.
She's starting to like this convo. Opening up is something that truly starts real conversations, and you rarely get that from strangers especially on online dating chat apps.
TE: How about you? Do you have some fantasies? How he should be? How he should treat you?
WH: I actually don't have anyone. Maybe that's why I donloaded this app 'coz I want someone to talk to. Maybe that's my fantasy. Chilling at the house with someone special, without fearing of not being able to go home.
TE: Don't regret. I still believe that best things are waiting for us. I'm willing to listen, just be yourself and tell me things. Like...umm ...what's your ideal date? If ever you meet that someone
WH: I want something cozy. Like lots of cuddles, coffee, movies and conversations, what's yours?
TE: I would like to take her to a romantic dinner date. Enjoy a sip of wine. Dance while holding her close and looking into her eyes.
WH: Sounds romantic. Kinda reminds me of romcom movies
TE: Thanks for the compliment.
WH: Have you done that with someone?
He didn't want to remember but it's too hard to forget.
TE: Yes. I did it with her before. I like taking her on surprised trips. She likes natural and serene places.
WH: Give me a recommendation where to go then
TE: Why? I thought you're single 😂
WH: Can't I go there alone? I told you I like travelling.
TE: Maybe you'd like to travel with me then. I could be your tour guide.
WH: Hmmmmm
TE: What? I don't bite! I have tiger eyes, but believe me I'm actually a hamster at heart
That made her chuckle. This guy seems so cute. It made her wonder why his ex- girlfriend broke up with him. He seems nice.
WH: I'd like that.
Now she didn't see that coming. Never had she ever thought that being bored during night shift would lead to meeting someone. Now she just have to wait 'til the pandemic is over to finally have that trip with her newfound friend.
Hello!! This is the first (and maybe last fic) I’m uploading onto here :-) I'm NOT a writer, but I really liked this idea I found. This idea was inspired by a text-post I found on IG, so all credit to them. Also, I have a similar fic called bloom on asianfanfics w the user name “ireallylikesehun” so if you recognize this, don’t worry! it’s not me copying somebody! Okay, well...enjoy!!
“Just one more...for her.” Wonwoo thought to himself. “One more and then I’ll leave.”
He carefully snipped the off one more stem off of the vibrant plant, placing it carefully in his bag.
He knew it was wrong to steal flowers, but how could he not?
He had no idea what his neighbor was on, truely, but he knew that his garden was stunning to say the least.
This wasn’t his intention, becoming a thief. Really, this wasn’t the plan.
But how could he not?
He hunched over, tiptoeing out of his neighbors garden in the hopes that luck would be on his side for the seventh time, but alas, his streak was over.
“I can see you, y’know.” His neighbor said, staring down at him from his balcony.
Wonwoo froze.
“Shit” He thought to himself, staring up at his neighbor, who grinned down at him.
“So.” His neighbor started again, leaning against the rails of his balcony. “I’ll take it that you’re the one who’se been stealing the flowers that I work hard to grow and maintain?”
Wonwoo nodded sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.
“Yeah…” He trailed off. “Are you mad?”
His neighbor shook his head,
“No, I’m not mad.”
Wonwoo let out a sigh of relief, letting his shoulders relax.
“However.”
Wonwoo tensed back up at the word, looking up at the taller figure.
“I don’t give my plants out to just anybody. Are those flowers for a girl?”
His neighbor tapped his fingers on the rails, waiting for an answer as Wonwoo racked his brain to try and explain his situation.
“Hm..” This neighbor trailed off before nodding to himself, turning his attention back to Wonwoo.
“Wait there. I’ll be down in two minutes.”
Wonwoo slumped down onto the soft grass, cursing himself for getting into this situation.
“Why does he wanna come down here? Is he gonna scold me further?”
His wait wasn’t long, as his neighbor appeared before him, dressed and ready to go.
“If you’re gonna steal my flowers for some girl, she better fit my criteria.” He stated. “So, here’s the deal: You take me to your little lady and let me see if she’s worth my hard work. If she is, you can continue to ‘steal’ my flowers. If not, then quit it.”
Wonwoo stared wide-eyed at his neighbor, unsure of how to explain who exactly these were for.
His neighbor grinned at him, walking beside Wonwoo with a spring in his step.
“Oh, come on.” He teased, noticing the frown on Wonwoo’s face. “I have a right to know where my flowers are going, don’t I?”
Wonwoo sighed.
He knew that he wasn’t wrong for wanting to know where his plants were off to, however...this?
“What’s your name?” Wonwoo asked after a few minutes of walking. “I always think of you as ‘the neighbor I steal from sometimes.’”
“Kim Mingyu.” He stuck his hand out for Wonwoo to shake, which he did very lightly. “And you?”
“Jeon Wonwoo.” He stated.
“Hm..” Mingyu trailed off, looking around and Wonwoo led him around the neighborhood.
“So! Where are we going?” He chirped. “A cafe? A movie theater? Oh, how about a garden? Wouldn’t that be ironic?”
Wonwoo shook his head.
“We’re going to a graveyard.”
Mingyu giggled at Wonwoo’s joke, shaking his head.
Until he realized that Wonwoo wasn’t joking.
“Wait...huh?” Mingyu questioned, side-eyeing Wonwoo. “Why the hell are you meeting a girl there?”
“Because that's where she is.” Wonwoo glanced over to Mingyu, hoping he’d caught his drift.
“But..why?” Mingyu pressed on, shaking his head. “That’s such a sad place to meet up.”
“Does this man really not understand what’s going on? Is he this dense?”
“Well, that’s where we are headed.” Wonwoo stated promptly. “But of course, you don’t have to come if you’re scared.” He smirked, noting the way Mingyu’s body tensed at the thought of going to a graveyard.
“No...it’s fine.” Mingyu nodded to himself, cocking his head to the side as he picked up his pace behind Wonwoo, who seemed to be eager to get there.
“We’re almost there, anyways, so no need to worry. We’ll be gone soon enough.”
Mingyu let out a sigh of relief, gaining his spring back in his step.
“Weirdos.” He commented. “Seriously! Who meets their girlfriend at a graveyard?” He gave Wonwoo a look of disapproval.
“Who said she was my girlfriend?” Wonwoo questioned, turning back to Mingyu.
“You’re not bringing my flowers to a girl you’re dating?” Mingyu asked, frowning at Wonwoo. “Then why are you bringing some girl flowers? In a graveyard?”
“You’ll see, you’ll see.” Wonwoo promised. “You’ll understand soon enough.”
Wonwoo grabbed onto Mingyu’s hand as they approached the entrance, guilt creeping onto him as he looked over at his very timid neighbor.
“You don’t have to come in, you know.” Wonwoo said softly, looking up at Mingyu. “I can just tell you who she is.”
Mingyu shook his head, glancing down at Wonwoo.
“I wanna meet the chick who’s receiving my bundles of hard work.” He said playfully, yet his grasp on Wonwoo's hand remained.
Wonwoo started on his trail into the cemetery, looking around for the familiar name before stopping at one of the graves.
Mingyu finally put two and two together, looking down at the name written on the tombstone.
“Your mom?” He questioned, taking a step back as Wonwoo leaned down to place the flowers down.
“My sister.” He stated, sighing as he turned to Mingyu, whose face was flushed.
Mingyu looked around, avoiding Wonwoo’s figure as he had his moment with his sister.
Wonwoo met Mingyu’s eyes as he stood up, giving him a soft smile.
“Let’s go.” He said, leading Mingyu back onto the sidewalk.
Mingyu looked down as the duo made their way back home, trailing slightly behind Wonwoo.
“So…” Wonwoo chimed, trying to stir up conversation “Can I use your flowers?”
“Huh?” Mingyu broke out of his thoughts. “Oh yeah. Of course you can.” He smiled at Wonwoo. “However, if you ever take my flowers to a girl who isn’t six feet under, you’ll have to introduce her to me first.”
Wonwoo agreed, grasping for Mingyu’s hand again.
“You’ll never have to worry about that, if ya catch my drift.” He stated, smirking at Mingyu, whose face began to flush.
“Really?” He asked, swinging his hands slightly, a small smile creeping onto his face.
Wonwoo had seen the pride flags plastered amongst Mingyu’s car and windows. He knew Mingyu has caught his drift this time.
And to be honest, Mingyu was cute.
Very cute.
“So…” Mingyu started, looking down at the sidewalk. “Do you wanna grab some coffee?”
“Like a date?” Wonwoo asked, earning a whine from Mingyu. Wonwoo grinned, nodding his head. “I’d love to.”
