@✶ › minghao。 The sudden turn Sooyoung made intensified the throbbing against her temples. She wishes that she had heard it wrong from all the thoughts that are collectively screaming, continuously clamoring inside her head, but it was loud and clear. Minghao was exasperated: the princess went overboard, and down to the deep, dark, yet familiar waters she goes. Sooyoung stood there, her breath hitching once in a while from all the crying – confused and frozen. This has to be a joke right? The prince was just humoring her, trying to lighten up the atmosphere. So she responds with a chuckle and a snarky remark, “Hao, you’re not seriously saying those things – right?” Sooyoung drags the last syllable a bit longer than usual, hoping to be indulged by an answer that would disaffirm all the unsettling feelings brewing in her core.
It was not the first time they had fought, but from her arrival at Villa Magna to when they made their way to the bayside, she could not recall whether she had done something that would usually irk Minghao. Sooyoung did not make a scene, opted to go somewhere that would offer momentary secrecy, and is giving straightforward answers with little hesitation. Yet, the silence that followed her question made her emit a noise laced with disbelief. Though she shakes it off by sighing, walking towards her lover to close the gap so that what she would be saying would be heard as she chose to speak softly, eyes looking up – observant towards the other’s expression, “Hey, were you busy? I’m sorry if ever that was the case. I just—I didn’t expect that Jeonghan would do what he did.”
That was it, Sooyoung supposes. Maybe she interrupted the prince’s slumber or what he could have been doing. After all, she did come unannounced – though if she was in Minghao’s position she would not mind. Everything else feels so easy to discard anyways when it was for her admired—no, beloved person. It was a recent and sudden conclusion for all that has been harbored for months, but somehow, it had more clarity than all the other things she had been contemplating for most of her life. Therefore, the princess was giving the prince the benefit of doubt – that Minghao would not do what the others had done to her: abandon her at her most vulnerable moments.
She settles with that, though the beat of her heart was saying otherwise. It was similar to when Sooyoung had called the king to ask about the queen and her then unborn sister, or when Jeonghan’s phone rang for the nth time with no answer, or that time when— “Or are you actually…” Sooyoung tried her best to hold her ground, but she could feel it slowly eroding. “...mad. At me. For talking about…” She trails off as she feels hot tears forming again, threatening to fall the moment the sea touches her feet.
When the light from above reveals the lines running down her cheeks, it’s almost as if the world has come to a halt, had it not been for the violent crashes of the waves acting as an unstable metronome. Minghao’s instinct tells him to reach his hands out to cup her face and wipe those tears away—pretend that the ramblings have fallen to deaf ears so that his touch could radiate warmth rather than the anger boiling inside him. His nails dig into his palm as he has to restrain himself from acting upon the urge, knowing that the hot tears he’d meant to wipe away would sear his skin instead.
And he’d collapse, his already chipped facade crumbling and revealing a boy beneath it all. A boy foolishly clinging onto the hope that they can still be salvaged. That maybe, just /maybe/—there was a little more than this than a ed up amalgamation of mutual dislike for someone else (and honestly, Minghao would’ve forgotten about it had it not been for reminders like this) and being an easy target for the media to prey on. Ah, the fact that his mind had decided to run into such line of thought instead of the usual comfort he’d try to offer—
Yet a small part of him begs for Sooyoung to stay. To not abandon him when he couldn’t meet her expectations—just like everybody else. To show him, prove to him that he’s—
Minghao doesn’t know either.
But Sooyoung’s words only serve to drift him apart from that dim ray of hope—whatever it is. /To not receive any further prying/, she had said. This time he finds himself unable to hold his tongue any longer. ”You can’t do that,” he says. “You can’t drag me into this just to make me an excuse to avoid your brother.” He should’ve taken her back to the villa while they were still within its vicinity—but it’s too late for regrets. All he can do now is offer, but even that seems futile at best, and a shortcut to a catastrophe at worst. “We should go back. I can’t—”
/I can’t do this anymore/, remains hanging at the tip of his tongue, perhaps better left unsaid.
@✶ › minghao。 Sooyoung watches as the prince makes his way towards her – folded arms having been allowed to fall to her sides, to appear less hostile in a sense. After all, Minghao is someone the princess is allowed to show her vulnerabilities towards, right? That was all the feelings she was unaccustomed to meant, she supposes. The lingering ache when there is but a span of distance, longing when a day passes by quietly, and the endless pleading at the back of her mind, urging her to ask her lover to stay for as long as she feels unsafe. Amidst all the passing and contrived empathy, his was the sole heart that emitted sincerity. When everyone else simply walked past the closed door, he was the only one who dared to knock – the only one Sooyoung was willing to let in.
The princess shrugs, the mumbles. “I don’t understand too…” And that was the truth. Even though she knows that she was truly livid, the reason as to why felt too imposed – as if the lack of a rational explanation had made any attempt to do reasonable thinking impossible. “I just don’t like how everything feels like—everything just feels so fake. So forced. I go there to greet him personally, but the fact that I had to psych myself up the whole afternoon just to do that is so wrong. Yet, the moment I arrived he – he just, he just—” The contrast of her now hot cheeks and the cold evening breeze made her turn away from the shore. The lit lamps lining the pavement shone on her face, revealing how damp it turned from the tears she did not even feel drop.
“Why is my brother acting like he suddenly cares? Is it because our parents aren’t here? But why do they have to be absent first before he does…” Sooyoung could not care less if any of her gestures clarified anything. “...all that. Do I not deserve even just a tiny bit of empathy—god, I’ll even take sympathy for all I care. Just…j-just anything.” The surroundings had turned blurry, but she continued – there was one more question she has yet to answer after all. “But I can’t say those – all these years I have been waiting for an answer, and I can’t give what I’m not receiving in return right? So, I wanted to make him feel that too. Deprive him of an answer. I called for you instead…” Sooyoung paused to inhale, feeling a hiccup from sobbing forming in her chest. “...to not receive any further prying from him. Don’t want him to ask me anything.”
@✷ › sooyoung。 It seems that the bayside has become their means of escape before he could realize it, with Minghao bringing a heavy heart to discard in exchange for some semblance of solace—and Sooyoung, a myriad of emotions infused in that one damn name: Jeonghan. The cold greets them again upon setting foot on the sand, this time as a harsh gust of wind blowing at his exposed body, having forgotten to take his coat with him amidst the commotion earlier. He watches Sooyoung run off towards the shore and almost immediately decides to stick to the pavement dividing the sand and main road. Time will solve this—yes, that's what the minuscule arguments throughout the course of their relationship have taught him. He'd give her time to take out her rage for her brother and stir the media in the process; give some time for the tabloids to catch on; give his anger some time to dissipate before they move on. This shouldn't be any different, right?
But then he hears his lover calling out for him from the other end, telling (though her sharp tone made it sound more akin to an order) him to come closer, so he has no choice but to give up on the idea of personal space. As much as he'd like to dwell in the nostalgia of dipping his toes into the sand, he forces himself to trudge past its comfort as he makes his way towards Sooyoung. "No," he agrees. "But are you going to tell me what just happened? Or why you had to drag me out here at the very least?" He can only hope that she doesn't notice the irritation bleeding into his voice, albeit unlikely at this point.
The comforting warmth lingered even after Sooyoung pulled away from the hug, making her wish she did not – wish that it would be enough to flush all the turmoil she has been encasing. Except the princess is suddenly reminded of faded memories: solace in the form of her brother’s embrace. Perhaps it was the reason she felt it was unfair earlier, felt that it was a fleeting and empty gesture. It was somewhat of a tribute to what has passed, but it came off as blasphemous considering the following days, Sooyoung would most likely receive nothing but the agonizing truth that their eldest had decided to abandon them—her, most especially.
That might have been why her footsteps were not as poised and refined, they were almost akin to stomping. Sooyoung had also let go of Minghao’s hand at some point, to cross her arms in front of her chest as she picked up her pace, hoping that the sea breeze would be enough to calm her down, letting it consume the hatred that had been banging inside her skull. The headache makes her frown, draining the energy from her bright eyes. So, the first thing she did when they arrived at the bayside was to remove her shoes and discard them hastily before moving herself closer to the shore.
Sooyoung stood still as the piercing cold hit her. Maybe that was more fitting than what she expected. She has had enough false consolation after all – tired of being cradled then abruptly dropped, left alone to pick herself up. “You can come closer, you know?” The princess called for her lover, quite sternly as she ignored fixing her tone, focusing on the rampage in her which was growing more intense. “I’m just a little angry,” she thinks for a second. “Okay maybe, really angry. But that’s not surprising?” It was an attempt to be reassuring but Sooyoung’s well aware that she’s failing – least of her worries right now though. “I just don’t understand why—how Jeonghan could be that way. It’s irritating."
@✶ › minghao。 Minghao’s gestures were nothing extraordinary, but Sooyoung wonders why at times she found herself in brief reverie: breathing deeply as light touches replaced her calloused ones, then exhaling slowly as she was led closer to the sea. In between those situations was her concentration towards her lover’s actions, concluding it with a faint smile, contrasting her falsely bright ones when there were cameras around – though it held more emotions to it as she felt the sporadic fluttering in her chest.
When the first syllable escaped the prince’s lips, the princess had stopped her pacing, situating herself close to her adored company. Perhaps it could be due to their choice of quietude because somehow, their conversation feels hushed and intimate. It reminded Sooyoung of the rare times they were able to busk in the silence this world could offer – an escape from their tumultuous lifestyles. Though she was not serenity’s biggest advocate, it was a good reminder that this is how she had always meant to live if not for what has been imposed on her. At the end of the day, Sooyoung’s bare soul is mellow, akin to the ebb and flow of the sea underneath her feet.
“Hmm, a helicopter ride?” She ponders over the suggestion. Aerial trips are not novelties to Sooyoung but she recalls that she only rode helicopters a few times compared to the countless private plane rides she continuously experienced before. “That would be nice. But do you think they’ll have a helicopter available for us?” It was not a matter of whether they will be allowed to do so – with both of them having royalty status, their privileges were matters of fact. “At such short notice too. Though I agree, I’d love to spend that time like that…” She beams, looking up to Minghao. “...with you.”
@✷ › sooyoung。 Although subtle enough to go undetected by most, Minghao does not miss the princess's shift in demeanor. A hint of concern colors his gaze as soon as he notices her pressing the back of her hand against her skin. The air is getting cooler now that fall is approaching, and it doesn't help that they're hanging around the beach at wee hours. "Is everything alright?" he asks after he removes his shoes, touching Sooyoung's forehead and neck with his own palm. They're warm—but it doesn't feel too different from the usual. Perhaps she's just exhausted. That makes the two of them then.
He lowers his hand with a soft sigh and moves it towards his collar, first loosening his tie so that the knot is positioned on his chest, then undoing the top buttons of his dress shirt for the ocean breeze to fully caress his neck before finally rolling his pants up just below his knees. A little unfitting for a prince, he knows—but so is bailing out of a gala. No one would catch them out here, right? He hates how that exact thought has been persisting in his mind. Have some faith—no, /loosen up a little/, he tries to tell himself. That's what they came all the way here for: a breath of fresh air after being suffocated by a multitude of (unwanted) attention.
He leads them closer to the sea—enough for the water to constantly rock under their feet—as he listens to Sooyoung talk. He's heard about the two princesses celebrating their birthdays together, mostly in ways he can only picture the youngest planning. In a way he finds himself relating to that: he's never really had a say on his... official birthday celebrations. But if there's an instance he remembers enjoying despite the publicity, it's that one time they rented out a helicopter for him to ride around the province. He remembers snapping quite a number of pictures from the sky as he discovers (ironic how late he was, considering how he would have to rule the exact same terrain one day) how /beautiful/ his home was when he could tear his attention away from the toxicity his mind's been polluted with—even for a split second.
Truth be told, Minghao doesn't know if it would be the same here in Medina. All he knows is that if he could gift Sooyoung some semblance of that feeling, he would do so without hesitation.
"How do you feel about going on a helicopter ride?"
@✶ › minghao。 It was quiet—awfully so. The princess, however, could not really think of anything to say to her partner, while he too seemed to have nothing to say to her. The night was undeniably exhausting, but Sooyoung’s reason for feeling beat is vague yet the feeling is vivid. Was she sick? Once or twice she used the back of her free hand to feel her forehead, her neck, her cheeks — they were warm but that was not abnormal. She checked whether the sea breeze that hit her bare legs was too cold than usual, but instead, it felt refreshing.
There was a faint ache in her chest when Minghao had let her hand go but she shrugged it off as nothing but fatigue from the long walk from the square garden to the bayside. After all, it was not a straight path: having to suddenly duck when there was distant chatter, take a longer route to avoid any person who might be surveying the area. They were not met with any flashing cameras—yes, perhaps that was where the ache was coming from, not catching anyone’s attention.
Sooyoung was in the middle of placing her pair of heels next to where the prince had settled his when she had heard him speak. It was about her upcoming birthday which she usually celebrates modestly back in the palace — very lackluster compared to Wonyoung who always insists to have a joint party given that their birthdays were near each other or Jeonghan’s which is probably the most publicized.
“Hmm, did you have anything in mind? It’s usually Wonyoung who plans for me — for us, really. So, I’m not really sure what I really want.” She spoke as she paced in a circle, looking down to see how her feet found comfort on the sand.
It took them a long time to get to the bayside—perhaps due to the fact that Minghao realized a little too late that he doesn't remember the directions as his cab to the school had only driven past it, or that the walk from the square garden had been met with an uncomfortable silence dancing around the pair. At one point when the music from the party had long drifted away from their earshot, he did contemplate breaking the awkward air between them, but a part of him /knows/ where their conversation would lead to had he done so. The last thing he wants to hear right now is that one name, that one moment in the gala—and he's not about to let any of those spill from anyone's lips.
He releases his grip from Sooyoung's hand to remove his dress shoes, letting his toes sink into the soft embrace of the sand beneath them. Then he reaches his arm out towards his lover again and beckons for her to join him. His gaze darts around their surroundings, keeping an eye out for potential cameras and prying eyes pointed towards their direction—but it seems that they're all preoccupied by the events in the gala to even think about lurking elsewhere. Good, Minghao thinks. They both deserve that at least: a private date without a single soul knowing of their whereabouts.
(But how long would such privacy last, he wonders—before he forces himself to push the thought out of his head.)
So he finally decides to open his mouth to speak. "Your birthday is coming, isn't it?" His voice almost blends with the loud crashing of the waves ahead of them. "We ought to celebrate that this year at least—now that we can see each other more often."
