✦ "ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴍɪɴᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴏғ ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇss ᴄɪɴᴅᴇʀᴇʟʟᴀ" ✦
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅
ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: ᴍᴀᴄ ᴍɪʟʟᴇʀ, ᴄɪɴᴅᴇʀᴇʟʟᴀ (ɪɴsᴛʀᴜᴍᴇɴᴛᴀʟ)
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢs: ᴍɪᴄʜᴀᴇʟ ᴊᴀᴄᴋsᴏɴ x ᴀᴜ ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇss! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴛʜᴇ ᴊᴀᴄᴋsᴏɴ ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ ᴄᴏᴍᴇs ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴋɪɴɢᴅᴏᴍ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀs ᴄᴏʀᴏɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴇʀғᴏʀᴍ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴋɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ sᴘᴀʀᴋs sᴛᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴏ ғʟʏɪɴɢ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴘᴇʀᴄᴜʟɪᴇʀ ʙᴏʏ.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅
1977, The kingdom of Maktou
Leaf pedal after leaf pedal fell onto the damp grass. Your fingers danced around a delicate flower, one you’d been watching grow for the past few months. It was a small, pink, elegant peony flower. You’d remember your mother saying they would grow in groups, but this one grew separately. It was beautiful; it was special.
"Y/N, your father wants you inside, honey!" The voice of one of the maids forced you from your thoughts, and you sighed softly as you brushed off your pink floral dress. You started making your way back inside the palace. Your face clearly contorted with annoyance after your time alone was cut off.
"Please, bow down to the royals of Maktou!" He shouts, talking to the six men who stood in front of you, now bowing.
"The Jackson family, welcome! I thank you for coming to watch my son’s coronation." Father speaks, his voice booming through the room. "My guards have spoken highly of you! I hear you are a group?" As he spoke, you sighed bitterly, really caring less about this whole interaction. But alas, this was for your brother and watching him being crowned as a king.
"Yes, my sons are. They’re the Jacksons." A man speaks, he had to be the father based on his looks, and as you scanned all six of them, your eyes landed on one in particular. Michael. He wore a black-and-white suit, with the cuffs a bit ruffled at the ends. Hair was in a very healthy and big afro; you couldn’t help but stare.
Tilting your head, you try to figure him out. The two of you stared at each other as your fathers spoke to each other. Finally, he looked away, clearly shy and nervous. You, on the other hand, could only smile to yourself, trying to maintain your focus elsewhere besides on him.
After greetings and talking to the guests, you make your way outside- back into the garden. Michael noticed this. It made him wonder what you were doing, made him wander about you. Yes, you were the princess, but he felt like you were more than just… that. Like you didn’t belong here- with these people you called a family.
You wouldn’t blame him, though; it was the truth. Always different from your family, not caring about the royal duties or the monarchy much. It was in the faith of other leaders before your father that you were to be married off anyway. So, in your eyes, you barely mattered. You were just another way for the kingdom to get money.
That doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Knowing what your prophecy was. You had responsibilities, yes, but they never mattered and were overshadowed by your brother’s upbringing. Shaking your head, trying to rid your mind of any negative thoughts- Tomorrow night was the Golden Ball. And you needed to stay a sane person for the sake of your family.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅
It was late—the sound of bugs talking amongst each other and the wind rustling through the trees. You tossed and turned, annoyed at the thought of not being able to sleep. With a harsh sigh, you get out of your bed, slipping into your slippers, and make your way toward the faint lamp that sat in the corner of the bedroom.
Opening the door to your bedroom, it creaks so slightly- making you cringe at the sound before walking toward the library. Whenever you felt restless, you would read a book, sometimes finishing it before sunrise. As you make it through, you slip inside, careful not to wake anyone else.
Scanning through the plethora of books, you’d read all of them by now. Finally, after looking for God knows how long, you grab one. Cinderella. You read the book a thousand times, it never gets old. Happy with your choice, you take a seat at the library's end table.
Opening the book and flipping to the first page, you read silently to yourself. "The wife of a rich man fell sick, and as she felt that her end was drawing near, she called her only daughter to her bedside-" Your reading was cut off by the sound of the library door shutting. It startled you, causing you to grab your lamp and stand up. "Who’s there?" You look around, trying to find who or what was in the library with you.
"Sorry… I-I didn’t know someone else was in here," A voice said, finally stepping into view. You’d notice it was the same boy from earlier, the one who kept eyeing the whole time. Sighing softly, you stare at him with utter confusion. "Why are you awake so late?" You ask him, you’d noticed him shrugging as he stayed by the door.
"I should be asking you that question," He laughs breathlessly. "I just couldn’t sleep, that’s all."
"Same here," You agree, continuing to stare at him. "What brings you to the library? You don’t seem very… keen on books." Your eyebrow raises slightly, and he chuckled again. still nervous.
"I… read. Just never have the time to, I guess." Michael mentions, you nod- still sizing him up.
"Ah, yes, because you’re a global superstar?" You tease, watching his face start to contort with slight discomfort. "What was your name again?"
"Michael," He answers quickly, trying to keep his eyes from wandering over your night gown. The pink peignoir nightgown gently hugs your waist. You noticed, and you were very observant of every little move he made. He didn’t bother asking for your name because your father had already mentioned it during the meeting.
"Well, Michael, how are you liking Maktou?" You converse, trying to ease the awkwardness that tried to consume you. He only fidgets with the hem of his pajama shirt before shrugging again and looking down at his feet.
"Pretty nice, beautiful atmosphere. It also smells nice," he explains. You smile again, soaking in his words. Michael was right, Maktou was a stunning place, from the animals to the smell of fresh water and air. It was bittersweet, and you always loved it here.
But you also thought about how the states looked. Supposed it were as good as people described, as beautiful. So, you work up the courage to ask, "Are the states like this?" Michael shook his head- and it made you a bit sad. You’d heard rumors of the states being dangerous at times, from the wars to the people. It didn’t keep you from wanting to visit.
"There are some places that look like this. Like Hawaii." He says. You listen, nodding at him. You tilt your head, eyebrows raising in question. The word ‘Hawaii’ clearly taking it into deep thought. "You really never heard of the states?"
"I have, but father isn’t really big on me getting an education. So I don’t really know much," You explained in an instant, trying to make sense. Michael noted that and nodded. "Um, would you like to read with me?" This question seemed to surprise him as his eyes widened slightly before he nodded and followed you back toward the end table in the corner of the library.
As you read together, taking turns reading each paragraph, you felt an unfamiliar feeling, something inside of you, as if reality began to shift. And when it was your turn to read, Michael suddenly stops you, his eyes turning to meet yours. "What you said earlier, about not getting an education… I can’t stop thinking about that. You seem very educated."
As he spoke, you could feel that the statement really bothered him. Hell, it bothered you to speak on it. But it was in your nature; you were only born to become the queen under a man’s command. "Well, I read an awful lot," You sigh deeply, shutting the book closed. "Mother taught me how, she wants me to be something more… Something other than a slave to my future husband." The words seemed odd as they fell from your lips; it felt natural to tell Michael everything. He seemed like a genuine person
"One day, you’ll make a brilliant queen." He compliments, you could only smile and look away shyly. "Thank you, Michael."
It grew quiet between the two of you for a while. The sounds of your faint breathing were the only thing you could hear. You felt yourself getting closer to him, wanting to feel his lips, feel his breath mingling with yours. It was too soon, though, you’d just met him today. Pulling back, you sigh in defeat- shaking your head. "My dream is to become the first woman in my palace to run it, to show everyone that we’re just as capable." You say softly but determined.
Michael responds, "I can relate to that." A faint smile peeks at the corner of his lips. "Probably not `the first woman` thing, but I want to achieve something outside of being with my brothers all the time." Listening intently, your gaze stays fixed on him- both of you trying desperately not to lean in.
You smile softly, a blush warming your cheeks. "You’re very peculiar, Michael." He raises an eyebrow, seeming to miss your point. Chuckling, you explain, "What I'm saying is, I find you hard to understand. You have this specialness about you."
"I...-I do?" he says, as you nod. You could tell he was thinking about what to say next, but your time together was cut off by the sound of shuffling coming from down the hall. As your eyes widen, you jump up, grabbing your lamp. "It’s getting late. We should get some rest." You tell him, a sad smile painting on your face. "Goodnight, Michael."
You left the library and headed back to your bedroom, unable to suppress a smile as you thought about Michael and how you could get to know him better.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅
Finally, the golden ball has arrived. As the maid behind you pulls tighter on your corset, your thoughts drift back to a couple nights ago when you were talking with Michael. Sadly, you hadn't seen him much lately- it made you feel a bit weary of your new friend.
You quietly sigh as you look at your dress in the mirror. It was a gentle blue corset with a floral pattern, embroidered with pearls. Your hair was styled in a bun, decorated with blue flowers at the back. You wore your tiara proudly, prepared to appear perfect for the cameras.
"Hey, Honey." Your mother’s voice called from behind. As you glanced in the mirror, you saw her wearing the same-colored dress as you—a beautiful floral pattern, more detailed than yours. You smiled as you watched her approach and dismissed the maids. "You look astonishing,"
"Thank you, Mother. You look wonderful yourself." You compliment back, a faint smile on your face.
"You and that boy... Is Michael right? You seem to have gotten closer to him," she says with a knowing smile. You laugh at her teasing and shake your head. "Please, mom. We’re just friends, really."
"Well, I noticed you’ve been spending time together. I know you like him." Your face scrunches up in disgust and you roll your eyes playfully, "That’s disgusting. But really, he’s just a friend."
"You should ask him to court you tonight before he returns to the States. Dance with him before he leaves," Mother suggests. You gaze at her in the mirror, contemplating for a moment before slowly nodding. "Come out when you’re ready, honey." She then exits your room. Biting your lip thoughtfully, your hands gently fold into your dress- you were afraid to fall deeply for someone leaving in just two days. But tonight, perhaps, you could dance with him before reality sets back in.
After contemplating in front of the mirror for what seemed like hours, you finally step into the ballroom, where soft piano music plays. You scan the room for any sign of Michael, and at last, you spot him. He's dressed in a white suit, with a pink shirt underneath, paired with brown loafers. He looks incredible and breathtaking. Michael hasn't noticed you yet because of the crowd, but you see him clearly.
Gathering your courage, you walk over to him, observing as he sips water near the bar. "Michael," you gently say his name, causing him to look at you. His mouth drops open, and his eyes move from your face to your dress. It seems he thinks you look perfect, which makes you happy. "Hi." you grin.
"H-…-Hi, y/n," he stammers, his eyes shining brightly as he gazes at you. "Wow… you look… beautiful," Michael comments. Your heartbeat quickens in your chest as you look away, sheepishly smiling like a child who has just received candy.
"Thank you. You look amazing as well," you reply, still smiling brightly. Before more words could be exchanged, one of Michael's brothers approached him and told him to prepare for the performance. He gave you a sad smile before walking away. You felt a little hurt but kept it hidden as you headed to your throne to watch the performance.
As the lights dim in the ballroom, a gentle melody starts playing on the piano. The room falls silent as everyone turns their attention. You see Michael standing behind his microphone, and then his soft voice begins to sing.
~I can't wait to get to school each day… and wait for you to pass my way~
Your eyes widen in awe as you watch him. His voice is incredible, singing with such passion, as if starved for love for a long time. His gaze meets yours, his eyes fixed on you as if the lyrics were meant just for you. Your jaw tightens, and a blush rushes to your face as he smiles at you, seemingly knowing exactly how he's making you feel.
As the song ended, the audience cheered, and your family joined in the applause. You also stood up and clapped, a smile forming as you maintained eye contact with Michael. After a few more songs, Mother encouraged you to dance with him. Reluctantly, you sighed and approached him. "It seems our earlier conversation was cut short," you said softly. Michael turned to you, gazing at you again as he admired you.
"Yeah, wasn’t it?" Michael laughs, moving closer to you. "You have a wonderful voice, by the way." The compliment slipped out quickly, and you could only manage an awkward smile again. It made you cringe- you were almost 20 but acting like a 13 year old girl.
"Thank you, Y/N." He says with a cheeky smile, clearly pleased by the compliment. You loved his smile and found yourself beginning to love everything about him—an odd feeling considering you had only known him for a day, yet it seemed like forever. The silence settled between you again, until suddenly, the pianist played a gentle melody, and everyone began to waltz. You watch them for a moment, then shift your attention back to Michaels.
You both laugh, realizing you'd begun speaking at the same time. "You can go first," you say, and he glances down at his feet before meeting your eyes again. "Would you like to dance with me, Y/N?" he asks. It feels like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders, and you nod.
"Y-…Yes." With that, you head to the dance floor. Your hands meet, and the music plays softly. It feels as if everyone has vanished; your eyes lock, and a mutual warmth radiates between you. As you dance, you feel relaxed, with your thoughts fading away as if they didn’t exist. It’s just you and Michael in that perfect, fleeting moment. Your gaze remains locked on each other, filled with love and warmth. Though only a couple of days have passed since you met, it feels like forever. You ignore everything around you, focusing solely on your feet moving in sync while his hand stays on your back as you waltz through the room. This moment is stunning, making you feel truly special — like you matter to someone. Michael then leans in, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers-
"You remind of princess, Cinderella."
You could only smile, accepting his compliment and softly chuckling. It wasn't until the music stopped that you realized the dance floor was empty, and it was just the two of you. As you both parted ways, you looked around and saw everyone gazing at you with awe and warmth. They applauded the dance, and you caught Michael drinking in the attention, though he seemed barely interested. All he truly wanted was you, and only you.
"We must’ve really been into it, huh?" Michael chuckles softly. You nod in agreement, then take his arm and head outside to the garden. The air was filled with warmth from the wind and breeze, enough to make you feel like a ghost. You lead him toward the pond, where small fish swim freely, living their own lives. "Michael, I want to say something," you begin, biting your lip. "I know it’s only been a couple of days, but I feel like I’ve known you forever."
Michael smiles, trying to hide his flustered expression. "I feel the same, but I do have to go to the States tomorrow night," he says with a sad tone, a similar feeling in you. You sigh, grasping his hands and gazing into his eyes, "Then I’ll miss you. You make me feel special in so many ways," you tell him, struggling to keep your composure. Michael's face softens, and he smiles faintly at you as he caresses your cheek. "I`ll definitely miss you, Y/N."
With those words, your lips press gently against his cheek, leaving a light kiss. As you start to pull away, suddenly his lips meet yours. Michael kisses you tenderly, his thumb brushing your cheek. Your heart races, and your body feels like it's on fire. Your first kiss, shared with someone you just met three days ago, is hesitant. His other hand wraps around your waist, pulling you closer to his chest. You respond by kissing him back, your arms around his neck- one hand sliding up to tease his thick afro.
You pull away from him, your breath catching in your throat. "Wow..." you say against his lips, a grin spreading on your face. "I... I don't know what to say..."
"You don't need to say anything; let this moment speak for us," Michael whispers breathlessly before kissing you again. He gently squeezes your waist, and you gasp as he takes charge, kissing you like a starved man. You didn't want this moment to end; you wanted to stay like this forever. You wanted to be with him forever and knew you would miss him dearly.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅
The following day flew by in a blur. Your brother was crowned king, but your thoughts were with Michael. While everyone praised your brother, you looked for the boy you longed to see one last time before he left. As you searched for him, wanting to hug him and tell him how much he meant to you, it was he who found you first, pulling you into a tight embrace. The hug surprised you completely, and you responded with love and care.
"I wish I could stay forever, Y/N," he softly says, reluctant to let you go. As he finally releases you, a stray tear rolls down his face. "I’ll write letters every day. I promise."
You chuckle softly and shake your head, saying, "We have phones; it’s not like we’re living in the 16th century." He considers this, then pulls away from you completely. "Oh... yeah," he responds, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck as he avoids eye contact. "Then I’ll call you. Every day when I have the time," He says.
"I’ll take it into thought, Michael." You smile.
"Michael! let’s roll!" His father, Joesph shouts.
"Goodbye, my cinderella."
You blush at the word, trying not to let your tears fall as a small smile forms on your lips. "Goodbye, Michael."
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅
