Stroke My Whiskers One Last Time (2)
This story contains: fluff, food, nudity, death.
“This is the Theatre, where shows are performed. Plays and such, you know,” the girl explained to the prince. She pointed to the big wooden and straw theatre. The maroon curtains sway to the light breeze. She had been walking around with him for hours. They were stopped a few times by citizens noticing the prince, giving him formal invitations for events.
The Prince, never before seen outside of The Castle or large formal events. Most people had only seen portraits of him, which in no way did his looks justice. But they were enough to be able to identify him. He was way nicer than anyone would have anticipated. He was always described as quiet and cold. But it wasn’t even slightly true. He was very friendly, especially to (Y/N).
They stopped their journey around the kingdom to eat lunch in a deli near the theatre. “I can pay,” the prince insisted.
“No, it’s fine, I’ll pay,” the girl cut in front of the prince with her coin purse. “Here you are~!” She pulled out her money and handed it to the lady. They went to one of the polished oak wood tables outside the deli. There was a mustard sun umbrella providing shade to the table.
“I could have paid… it’s the least I could have done,” the prince said in a pout to the girl. He felt bad for letting her pay, especially since he was the more wealthy of the two… And the man.
“No, I should be the one to treat you, Your Highness.” (Y/n) flashed a smile at him, he avoided her eye contact and looked away.
“Just call me Yoongi,” he whispered, inaudibly. His face was still turned away from the girl, and she couldn’t hear him.
“Pardon me, Your Highness; I didn’t hear you.” She leaned closer to The Prince.
“It was nothing.” He rubbed the back of his neck while turning back to face the girl. Her lips formed an ‘oh’ shape as she backed away. The Prince looked down, realising he may have just turned her off. “I never got your name,” The Prince said to (Y/n). Her face lit up from its previously gloomy state.
“Ah- I- Um… It’s (Y/n),” She replied, looking around the scenery. Before he could say more, a lady came to their table with their lunch. (Y/N) was given her mutton, broccoli and mashed potatoes, steaming with graving oozing off of everything. The Prince had his lamb chops with the same sides as (Y/n). "Wow, it looks delicious!" She grabbed her fork and knife and started cutting open the juicy meat, letting it cool off before eating.
After a while, she noticed how The Prince didn't touch his food. He was sitting there, staring at her. "Do you not like it, Your Highness?" She asked him. He blinked a few times as if he was snapped out of a spell.
"Oh, I got distracted. It's just fine," he replied, shaking his head. He lifted his utensils off of the napkins placed on the table. His hands shook as if he were in the middle of a blizzard with no coat on. His clammy hands caused the fork to drop out of his hands and fall onto the floor.
"I wouldn’t have expected you to be so clumsy, Your Highness." She chuckled to the man, covering her mouth with her napkin, "here." She grabbed his plate and began cutting the lamb for him, feeding him with her own fork. His cheeks displayed a rose hue, his eyes half-lidded as he focused on the hands that fed him. She was like a mother. Like his mother. He missed her terribly after her death a few years back. She was the only one who could convince his father to do anything. She was the one who took him into consideration; who chose family before anything else in his life.
The Prince hushed out a “thank you” as he took another bite of the lamb from her fork. She shook her head as if to say he didn’t need to worry about it. He was a member of the royal family after all. Of course, she would do something as small as this for him.
~~~
Upon finishing eating, The Prince had to go back to The Castle. The place he resented so much. “Can we meet up again tomorrow (Y/n)?” The Prince looked back at her.
“I would love to. We can watch the 6 o’clock play together. I hear this time they’re performing a Shakespear play,” She suggested.
“That sounds perfect!” The Prince shined a bright gummy smile at the girl. He got closer to her to pick up her hands, “I’ll see you then,” he said to her happily. He walked off towards The Castle. (Y/n) watched until he was too small to see anymore.
~~~
The pitter-patters of the rainfall on the window usually brought comfort to (Y/n). But not this morning. The girl paces around her cramped living room. Last night, her little kitten never showed up, causing her to stress about him, and the fact that it was raining meant the play would likely be cancelled.
“Have I really been done like this?” she fell onto her bed purposefully, resting her arm on her forehead. Her long eyelashes brushed her cheeks as she closed her stress-filled eyes. How could one be so unlucky?
Dreading to get up, (Y/n) dragged herself out of the house to open the bakery. Her brolly was old, it was her mother’s. There was a gash on the edge of the maroon fabric allowing water to sprinkle through.
It was an understatement. She was completely drenched by the time she arrived at the bakery. Her shoes squished and her hair dripped. She left puddles on the barely polished oak wood floors with every step she took. She could only hope that the towel that was usually placed in the staffroom was still there today. She sluggishly walked herself to the room and peered at the desk where the towel was usually placed. “Thank God,” she sighed, skipping up to the desk and grabbing the towel. Starting with drying her hair as best she could, then the rest of her.
~~~
His arms were thrown in the air for a mighty stretch. Groans escaped his lips. His puffy eyes were clamped shut for a few seconds. The Prince bounced off the bed and made his way to the bathroom.
The kingdom was the only building with running water. Other, lower class, citizens had to labour over bringing water into their houses daily, for cleansing and food.
The prince splashed his face with the cold running water. He started the bathwater and walked out of the bathroom with a towel to dry his face. The Prince’s room was huge with many unnecessary decorations. And a single, but large, painting of a family portrait with his father, mother and himself. His mother wore a black and golden gown, complemented with a peacock feather brooch. The prince was nothing more than a lad at the time, wearing his blue and gold dress. Funny, he still kept that dress, due to his mother’s request.
The prince looked out through his window as the droplets of rain splattered and raced down the glass. “It’s raining today… what am I going to do about this?” The prince looked down to his feet. He never liked the rain, it made his skin itch and he always got sick after being outside. He walked back to the bathroom and hopped in the bath. The hot water put him more at ease.
~~~
The bell attached to the bakery’s door rang loudly. The prince walked in through the door, closed his brolly and shook off some of the water before hanging it on the racks. “Welcome in Your Highness,” (Y/N) bowed to the prince. The two made eye contact for a minute, before (Y/n) broke it and bowed down hastily. “Would you like something to drink while I get ready?” She offered.
“Just tea will be fine,” The Prince replied. He played with the cuffs on his coat and sat down at one of the tables. His eyes were wide open, and his cheeks were dusted with a light pink shade in contrast to his milky white skin. The Prince never fidgeted, it was ill-mannered, but he couldn’t control himself today. The back of his hands felt dry like a rash was forming on them. From experience, he knew not to scratch them. The Prince sighed, “I hate the rain…”
“Did you say something You’re Highness?” The girl startled the Prince. She placed his cup and plate on the rustic mahogany tables. He pulled the plate closer to him and began to fidget with the edge of the teacup plate.
“No, nothing,” he replied to the girl. “We should make new plans because of the rain… How about this? Would you like to go to The Castle with me?” The girl’s arms went stiff. She looked up into the Prince’s eyes to check for any sarcasm or a crooked grin. But none was seen. She slid into the seat across from him and gripped the edge of the table tightly.
“Are you sure your highness? I’m merely a peasant, I do not belong in the—” she was cut off by the prince’s finger touching her lips. The customers in the bakery all gasped, watching The prince’s actions.
“I’m sure. I know your promise was to show me around the kingdom, but this once let me show you around The Castle. Is that alright?” He asked her, taking his finger off of her lips. She didn’t know how to feel, what would become of her image in the public eye if she said yes. What about if she said no, she’d be known as the ‘girl who turned down the prince’ which would be degrading towards The prince. But what if she was addressed as ‘the prince’s mistress’ or something to indicate a sexual relationship? Either option was bad, but she would rather ruin her own reputation than his.
“I- I’ll go then,” she muttered out, looking at the table.
“Look at me,” he commanded gently. This was the first time he had ever given her a command. Even though the tone in his voice was sweet and gooey, (y/n) was still startled. She immediately looked back into his deep eyes. They were soft but filled with loneliness. How did she not realize this before? He didn’t care about the kingdom, he likely knew it like the back of his hand. What he really wanted was someone he could talk to and someone to keep him company… yet he has hundreds of servants within The Castle, why couldn’t he just talk to one of them?
The patrons in the bakery were all watching her, some with looks of sympathy and others with looks of disgust. Her cheeks flushed, and she suddenly felt shy. This was the first time she had ever been in the spotlight, and now she was caught in it. She wanted to run, to hide. She couldn’t bear the thought of the look of pity and disgust that the people were giving her. She could practically hear them calling her a “whore,” and a “slut”. “I bet she whines and begs for him to warm her side of the bed at night,” she imagined them saying. She felt the prickling sensation in her head, as her thoughts were becoming clouded. She let out a nervous laugh and shook her head to rid the thoughts.
In reality, the patrons were in disbelief. Jealousy clouded a few of them, they wanted to be next to the prince in (Y/n)’s stead. But the rest of them knew just how kind-hearted and deserving of this (Y/n) was.
“(Y/N) look at me,” the prince repeated, sterner this time. She hesitantly looked up at the beautiful, black-haired prince in front of her. Her movements were too slow for him, however. He grabbed her cheeks and turned her to face him. “You’ll be fine,” his forehead moved to touch hers, “I promise.” Her head began to spin in circles, and her legs became weak. You wicked man Prince Min Yoongi. How could you be so deadly attractive and cute at the same time your highness? The warmth of his hands left her cheeks, it moved down her arms instead. He pulled her by her wrists, “Come on (Y/N), let us go.” His childish grin stole the hearts of every customer in that bakery.
“Wait, Your Highness! What about my things? I can’t waltz into The Castle in torn clothing!” Her legs moved on their own to keep her off the ground. The jingle of the door felt more like a “So long” rather than the usual greeting it had before.
“There’s clothing at The Castle!” He didn’t even turn back.
9.24.22
(Next chapter at 50 notes)
