⁝ gisaeng house.

@❃ seo eun "Does she?" He asked, unsure. he wasn't sure that not writing to Sunmi was the right thing. However, if Eun asked him not to, he would listen to her without a doubt. "However, wouldn't it be rude?" He continued to ask for her opinion. his forehead easily pressed against hers as he stared into her eyes with love. He pressed his lips to hers for a little kiss.
However, when he saw how serious she was after he dumped what had happened between him and mijoo in the past, fear made its way into him. Would she leave him because of this? Should him keep everything of his past to himself? Still, he found that the act of dishonesty wasn't him. He preferred to be as honest as he possibly could when it came to Eun. He would try not to have any secret, just like how it was in the past, sharing everything that he had in mind with his love. maybe the only difference right now was without alcohol.
When she felt her wriggle her way out of his arms, it felt like she was slipping away from him. It scared him. He held back whatever he was going to say as to try to hold her again but once again he failed. He didn't deserve to do that right? he felt like he had betrayed her, doing the biggest sin that one could possibly be in a relationship.
"are you angry?" he asked carefully as he watched her went to take his writing utensils. Now, he truly didn't want to write to anyone if it would end up with him feeling extremely guilty. When she came back to his side, he shifted to his side to look at her. Without a thought, he pulled her into his arms and hugged her tightly. There's this fear of losing her right now. "I don't want you to play anything. I just want you to be here and not be mad at me anymore. I won't write to them. just... don't leave me." he whispered softly as he pressed his forehead on her shoulder. this fear that he had was clutching on him so tightly. It's like bringing back the nightmare that he always had but forgotten, her walking away from him.

@✿ jin jaeha tonight’s dinner lacked its usual flavor as it was easily overshadowed by the heavy topic at hand. despite jaeyong’s desire to do right by his family, navigating this difficult task was a challenge for the young jin. commitment was a concept he had little experience with, given the chaotic nature of his parents’ marriage. he had always felt compelled to choose sides amidst their constant conflicts, oftentimes siding with his mother. however, in recent years, he had begun to heed his father’s counsel, realizing there was much to learn from him. yet, the subject of children and marriage felt overwhelming for jaeyong. could he be a fitting heir and a good father simultaneously? the unstable relationship between his parents had left him questioning the possibility. jaeyong dreaded the idea of repeating their mistakes and causing lifelong trauma for his own children.

“shouldn’t i focus on my career first before considering such a commitment?” jaeyong responded to his father’s opinion. having only joined the ministry last year, he felt he was lagging behind his peers in terms of experience and accomplishments. while there were women in his life he found interesting, jaeyong had always shied away from commitment, fearing vulnerability and the possibility of repeating his parents’ mistakes. perhaps his focus on his career was simply an excuse, as the thought of settling down and starting a family had sometimes stirred a longing within him.

“as the heir, i understand the importance of marrying within our social status, but what if i find myself drawn to someone of lower standing? grandma has introduced me to a few yangban women, but none of them capture my interest,” he spoke honestly, seeking his father’s perspective. “what if my future wife doesn’t come from a yangban background? would you be open to that?” he set his chopsticks down on the table and took a quick sip of wine, feeling the need for some liquid courage in this difficult conversation.

@✿ baek yejun “I-“ she began, ready to unload her worries when she noticed the expression on his face. Had she already been too forceful in her questioning of his need to contact her? Perhaps it was stupid, but something within her was still scared of what would happen if that woman returned. It was clear that she had some hold on him, seeing as he had presented a flower to her when they had met to dance at the gala. She still vividly remembered the way they had looked at each other.
“I am sure she has accepted whatever explanation she has some come up with on her own.”

Eun’s lips remained pursed as she listened to his explanation. And the further his explanation went on the more she felt her stomach sink. Her gaze diverted from his as his words continued, as if adding more load to the sinking ship could save it. But it was already keel up.

“Yeah…” The gisaeng nodded her head. “I know how you could be.”
Silence slowly enveloped them as she sat there in his embrace. She had so much she wanted to say, yet no words came to her. All she could think was that this was all before her, so it shouldn’t matter. And yet it stuck in there all the same, like a nagging needle in her brain. “I should not be standing in the way of you writing them and clearing the air. After all-“ Eun wriggled out of his arms, flashing him a small smile as she pushed herself up. “They are your friends.”

She turned to go get his writing utensils, feeling the silence yet again blanketing her. Was it even worth feeling like this? He was here after all. Not with them. The thoughts kept circling in her mind as she crossed the room again to sit down by his side, gently placing down his paper and inkstone. “Would you like me to play you something while you write?”

@✿ seol minhwan the revelation hits areum hard.

it hits her in the chest like a horse, taking her breath away in one sharp grip. a heavy weight easily appears within her chest, and the world is silenced. quiet, as though it's become distant within a mere moment. this isn't the first time, of course not, but why does this feel so different? this isn't the first time minhwan has been betrothed to another, and areum has always known that this is going to happen, one way or another. she has always expected this, since the first time she was wedded to another man. she has always known, and has always told herself time and time again, that minhwan has never been hers.

he will never be hers.

she has come to terms with that—she has to, she doesn't have any choice. but for reasons that she hasn't acknowledged properly yet, for things that she has tried to convince herself of before, she can feel her heart break. she feels it break, but it doesn't shatter entirely. it doesn't shatter into a million pieces the first time she's learned of the minhwan's betrothal after their own failed marriage. but it breaks, as if bits and pieces of her heart are slowly chipped away, never to come back again. never to heal again.

is this it, she wonders. is this the world's answer to her prayers?

is this how fate answers her questions? she has asked when she was nineteen, if minhwan was meant to be hers and hers alone; if no matter what happens, minhwan would come back to her side. she asked that for the first time when she's nineteen, and she asked that again, when she was twenty-two and saw minhwan coming to her side after the fall of her family, as though he's always waited for that chance—to be by her side, nowhere else.

this is it, perhaps.

this is how the world breaks her heart. this is how it tells her that the two of them are not meant to be, and she should've known. she should've known the first time she's had to leave his side to marry another man. she should've known when the duke seol has ensured that she doesn't stay by his side. she should've known then, and this shouldn't have been as much of a shock to her as it is now.

a tear falls at a corner of her eyes, and she's quick to wipe it, blinking repeatedly to try and compose herself. she has no right to cry. she hasn't had any right to be heartbroken since the time she agreed to a divorce. she hasn't had any right, so why does she find it difficult to breathe?

"is—is that so?" she forces out, hoping that her voice doesn't break. (it doesn't, but it trembles.) "who is she? your fiancee, i mean. and... when is the wedding happening?"

@❃ seo eun Yejun sighed, feeling the weight of Eun's concerns pressing down on him. He hadn't anticipated her reaction to his suggestion of writing to Sunmi, and he struggled to find the right words to ease her worries. "I understand your hesitation, Eun," he began, his voice soft and apologetic. "But I feel like I owe her an explanation, at the very least."
He reached out to gently brush a stray strand of hair from her face, his touch tender. "I'm sure she hasn't forgotten about you. You're that talented. besides for me, my girlfriend here is more beautiful and gracious than any other women." he pressed his lips against her.
As Eun continued to speak of her admiration for Mijoo, Yejun couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. He didn't know how to tell her about what had happened or how her reaction would be. "I do know her," he admitted, his expression troubled. "And she truly is as talented and kind as you say. But... but things have changed between us. I just need to make things right, in whatever way I can."
Her questioning gaze caused him to falter, his eyes dropping to the ground briefly before meeting hers again. "It was a mistake in the sense that... that I acted impulsively, without thinking of the consequences. And it was a mistake to let myself get so carried away with alcohol," he confessed, his tone heavy with remorse. "Y-you know how I could be when I am drunk. The mistake is just like what had happened when I was with you whenever I was drunk, when I tried to forget." He blurted everything out in one go before he was scared to admit it to her.
"I know letters are personal but it's still the only way to communicate," he whispered with his arms tightened around her waist after his confession. "But... if it's not okay for you, I won't write to any of them."

@✿ baek yejun “At this point, wouldn’t writing to her just make things worse?”
Eun had tried to bite back her jealousy, and yet she found herself losing the fight real quick. “I’m sure she has forgotten by now.” Though if she truly was someone important that Yejun was originally promised too, that could be bad. If she was scorned and found out it was Eun’s fault, then who knew what could happen. “Are you sure you have to…?”

The gisaeng perked up a bit more. “You know her? I only met her once and she was so beautiful and gracious. I wouldn’t have learnt how to compose on my own if not for her. And even then I am but a mere novice to her genius.” Words tumbled out of her in excitement, not having had a chance to see the musician play in so long.

Her lips pursed in a small pout as she studied his face. “Perhaps, but… Letters are personal.” She knew well from the ones she herself had written in the past. Letters hidden far from sight of everyone. “Yeah, I know. You left her side for me.” Part of her felt guilty. Part of her was proud. She could not tell which one won out, yet heeded it little mind when he continued on. “Mistake…?” Eun’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean a drunken mistake...?”

@❁ hong areum never lifting his gaze nor his head up, he did whatever he could to avoid her eyes, the same ones that always drew him and left him lost in everything that was hong areum. it was with this lowered gaze, he noticed how she was able to control herself, unlike him. he had to finish his drink before she could answer him, somehow his anxiety racing and his grandfather’s words taunted him in the back of his mind. a firm, but disappointed, voice calling him weak. that was what he was. to most of his peers, they would ridicule him for this scene. how could he, the grandson of the chief state councillor, be unnerved by a woman? a woman that left him originally, they would had reminded him.

yet the moment he heard her call him, “my lord”, his heart felt tighten. deep down, he understood that she had to maintain a formal, polite setting for them. that was her work, but the words coming from her lips were cold. a simple title had the ability to cut through him just as much as seeing her with other men. during the occasional business dinners these two were forced to attend together, minhwan had to steer away from her direction, knowing that such a glance would further fuel his hurt and rage. the rare times he saw a man enter her room, he had to tell himself that he was imagining things, to not think of the worst.

it was from this title though, maybe it was time he had to live and face reality. he only chewed on the inside of his cheek, nodding his head slowly as her words went through one ear and out the other. he did not even catch the shakiness in her tone. the vacantness in his face said it all though. perhaps, it would be easier to break such news to her if this was what she saw him as, a client. no more, no less.

“oh?” minhwan finally did his best to look at her, but he had to take a deep breath. even in a moment like this, he had to notice how beautiful she was and he kicked himself for it. was there any way for him to make it out of tonight’s conversation in one piece? he turned his attention to his now empty glass, turning it around slowly as he replied, “no, it’s only me.” following his already defeated tone, a heavy sigh could be heard from him, “you don’t have to worry. i won’t be here for long, then i’ll be out of your way.”

before he could continue, he had to reach for the bottle again. the duke’s voice rumbled once more, calling him weak to succumb to this liquid temporary courage. as he poured his glass, he muttered, “i came by because i have to tell you something.” he had to stop. soon after, a lingering pause. the next few words would change everything and unlike his last betrothal, he knew this one was different.

he cleared his throat before taking another breath, but all of that was for nothing as he stumbled around with his next couple of sentences, “i know it hasn’t been that long since us… since my previous betrothal. it’s just. it’s.” finally minhwan blurted, “i’m getting married.”

@❀ seo hyunwoo She loves Namhae.

The land across her birth region, Gwangyang, is a beautiful archipelago of a small mountain embraced by the blue, emerald sea. The white sand of its beach was something Wolhye would sink into. Its winds and the crash of waves carrying the greetings of the faraway sea, was whispers she would listen to at night. This was the land of respite as she'd sneak into a fisherman's boat and escape the pressure readying herself to entertain men or handling petty spy tasks (she hated spying on an suspected cheating husband)—escape from seeing her mother being at the mercy of the magistrate.

She had spent one night at the tavern attached to the small gisaeng establishment where her mother's friend was a madame. The older women had ushered her to go home, "enough of giving her mother worries, dearest." Her chest constricted at the thought, how her mother held on to shower them a life worth living. It was the said thought that always managed to end her rebellious streak. So she bid the madame farewell ("i'll be back", she muttered) to catch a fisherman's boat, if she was lucky.

The seventeen years old placed her treasured shoe down, outside of the gisaeng house's back door. She left it for a minute, being called back in to take a few homemade food from the tavern. However, when she returned, one of her silk shoe was gone. In the midst of her confusion, she caught the gleeful sound of boys. Irritation had begun to enter as she opened the back door, stepping out with her bare feet just in time to see the silk shoe landed on the tree branch.

Imbeciles.

She glared at the group of boys, her insides bubbling in fury. Judging by their clothes, they were children of higher classes. One who could easily afford the silk shoes that her mother has been keeping so it was as good as new when she handed it down to Wolhye. Good for nothing, sniveling. . .yangban? Jungin? She did not care, as she set her gaze upon the last of the boys who did not immediately flee. While she did not mean to shed a tear, she was fuming and let a tear fall. Perhaps, he'd take responsibility for his actions when she saw her cry.

Though perhaps she had expected too much as the boy left, seemingly to follow suit and flee in the direction where his friends had went. Wolhye wiped the stray tear, looking up the tree. Her brain starting to turn as she thought of how to retrieve it on her own, at least until she heard hasty steps heading towards her.

The boy caught her by surprise as he returned with a ladder. Her eyes followed his figure as he climbed it and moving on to the branches. Given how he showed responsibilty to make amends, Wolhye let herself worry slightly for the stranger yet annoyance still lined her features. When the boy has his feet on the ground, Wolhye approached him in a storm. She snatched the silk shoe from his grip, ignoring his soft apologies, and in a swift movement, her knee met his stomach. The surprise act caused him to double back.

"Thank you," she seethed, setting the shoe down and slipping her foot into it, "for returning the shoe." Wolhye glared down at his folded form. "However, no one deserves having their shoe stuck on a tree."

@❃ cho miyoung Becoming a gisaeng was one of the better decisions Sungha had made with his life. Prior to males being accepted into the kibang as well, Sungha had been performing on the streets. It made better money than his days begging, but often times he would be chased away from whatever corner of the market he had claimed, officials calling him disruptive. Sungha suspected it might have had something to do with the amount of blood he enjoyed using, but who could say?

The occasional person would see Sungha and request for him to perform for them privately at their residence, and while Sungha often went for the large sums of money promised, he did not enjoy when the patrons decided they were owed his body as well as his talent. But here as a gisaeng, he had a bit more protection. Well, the clients had better protection from him, he guessed. Sungha tended to get angry when people got too handsy with him when he was trying to perform. Here, at the house, there was a better understanding of the lines between performing and private entertainment.

Overall, Sungha liked the gisaeng house. His brothers were here, and Sungha would gladly harm anyone who dared harm the other gisaengs. They all knew this, just like they all knew of his affinity for pain. Sungha's clients came to him for the sweet taste of the bizarre, but for newcomers he toned himself down, dialing back his sadomasochistic tendencies.

Tonight was such a night where there was a group of young women enjoying the night's performances. Sungha had spotted them while speaking to other guests in the house, pouring more drinks for them to coax them into spending more money.

Eventually Sungha was called to perform, and he grabbed his favorite sword before standing before everyone. His eyes landed on the group of girls. Other guests had seen him sword swallow before, but he doubted the young women had ever seen anything like it. His eyes snagged on one lady in particular, looking far less comfortable and relaxed than the others. It choked a laugh in Sungha's throat. What a little doe!

"Good evening," he greeted with one of his wild smiles. Tonight, Sungha wore all red--his favorite color. His hair was half-up, the rest of it falling loosely around his shoulders. Sungha never felt the need to wear elaborately designed costumes or fine clothing, leaving those to his siblings. No, this gisaeng believed his talents and strange personality would not suit such things.

"Tonight I shall show you something very special. But I cannot stress this enough, do not attempt to copy me without any training. Or else you shall find yourself with a throat slit from within." He barked out a harsh laugh at the thought, covering the sound with his sleeve before he could go into a fit. He cleared his throat before brandishing the sword, showing it to the crowd. "This sword is very, very real. And I am going to swallow it." Sungha's eyes found the little doe, gauging her reaction.

@❃ seo eun Yejun tilted his head down to look at her and just that was enough to bring a rush of beat to his heart. He caressed her cheek as he listened to her words. He nodded, confirming the answer to her question. "For leaving her behind back then. It's somewhat late because I keep forgetting about it." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I hope that she wouldn't be mad about it." he shared his concern with her, feeling guilty for forgetting about it for so long.
Her sudden outburst made him looked at her with a questioning look, his right brow slightly raised and his smile grew. It's rare to see her like this. "You could say so. if there's any genius in my eyes, it would only be you though." he answered honestly but for the reason, he was worried to tell her slightly. "you're not in the way. I only want to be as honest as I could with you. Writing to other ladies without you around or telling you feels like a start of an act of dishonesty." He nuzzled his cheek against hers while tightening his arms. He kissed her pout as he couldn't help but to do so when he found her really adorable like this.
"uh.. the why for Sunmi, I believed you've known about it. For Mijoo, you've got to promise me not to get angry about it. So... she has been avoiding me." He started nervously. "Because of the mistake we both did when we're drunk." he caressed her cheek and smiled. "So, I plan to write to her to meet up because we're still friends before it happened. I want to rekindle our friendship."

@✿ baek yejun Mornings like these were the best. Quiet moments of the two just spending time together in each other’s presence, not needing there to necessarily be words to explain anything. It was nice, just knowing that existing together was an option, and that it would feel no less rewarding. Her hand moved slowly, letting the brush gently paint the letters for the musings she had in mind, laying out the pieces for a new poem. It was comforting work, putting her mind at ease as she watched the brush glide over paper.

Her movements stopped as his arms tightened a little around her. She did not notice him having put away his book until she heard his voice, her attention turning up to look at him as he spoke. “Sunmi? That was the lady from the gala, was it not?” Though it was far back she still remembered the face vividly, remembering the way he had looked at her when they danced. “What do you have to apologize to her for?” It had been so long. did they still keep in touch?

“Mijoo?” Eun’s voice twisted up in surprise. “THE Mijoo? The gayageum genius?” the questions rambled out before she could really think them through. She had always been a fan of the musicians work, her compositions often being influenced by the few performances she had been able to attend. “What made you think of writing the both now?” And why was he asking for her permission? “I should not be one to stand in the way of you writing people…”

The gisaeng’s lips turned up in a small pout. “But why though?”

@❃ bang sungha [ dated mid December, 1869 ]

"Miyoungie, you never go out with us anymore!" "Come on, you should have some fun!" "Spend your time off doing something new!" Her friends had said. It was near the holidays and winter had just begun, so Miyoung was given a few days off from her duties. Usually when she had free time, she liked to spend it visiting her father and seeing if he needed any help with his work. Why was she always working, even during a short vacation? It was something she never questioned until it was pointed out to her. But she didn't like idling away time or not doing anything productive. But maybe her friends were right, she could use some time to have fun. Experience something new.

Which led her to the sinful red interior of Hanbamman, nursing the same glass of wine for the past hour. She had no idea her childhood friends' idea of a fun night out involved a gibang, but now here they were. The other young ladies were enjoying themselves, treating themselves to drinks and enjoying the performances that night. It was Miyoung's first time visiting such an establishment and she wasn't sure how to feel. The décor was lavish, the wine she had was very sweet and smooth, the gisaengs were all very attractive and very good at what they did. No wonder it was so popular.

"So... may I ask why you chose a gibang for our night out?," Miyoung asked one of her friends. The young woman shrugged her shoulders and giggled. "To help you experience something different! You must grow tired of your duties sometimes, no? And even when you have time off, you spend it doing more work. You deserve a chance to go on the wild side, do something...unexpected," she explained. Miyoung's cheeks burned a bright red and she turned her gaze away from her group for a moment. Was she a stick in the mud? Was she coming off as a prude? She could be plenty wild!

"I-I'll have you know- I'm capable of being on the wild side! Uhm...," she trailed off in thought for a moment. "Last week, I slept in for an extra few minutes before tending to my responsibilities! Hah!" Her friends exchanged looks between them before laughing, making the nobi sigh heavily and shake her head.

Taking another sip from her glass, she looked up from the table as a performer took to the stage. A male gisaeng, not much older than herself. His face was striking, his eyes were sharp, and his stature was imposing. Miyoung's back straightened as she watched with fully captured attention to see what talent this gisaeng had. Would he dance? Sing? Recite some poetry? Something told her that he wasn't of those sorts of disciplines, though.

@✿ jin jaeyong now with his hands free, it only allowed him to leave one on the table and quietly tap his fingertips there in a consistent slow rhythm. the only noise that could be heard from him as he listened to his heir’s decisions and plans for the future, but he made his reaction more evident from his pursed lips and shaking head. despite the fables that swirled around their clan, of deceit and misfortune stemming from the duke and his former wife, one could not argue that they raised their children to have a strong sense of family. yet in that moment, jaeha did not hide back his sigh.

perhaps, his son was still heavily influenced by his mother. not surprising to say the least. while direct in his manner, he rarely commented on how his son tensed up whenever he and his former wife argued. a snide comment or two about his ex had an effect on the boy. the most obvious of reactions was how he noticed jaeyong would follow his mother after another marriage quarrel, but at first he shook it off. he could not deny the bond between mother and son, only highlighting that he was always his mother’s son.

“your love and dedication to this family is admirable. many people in the court tell me this, but do not let your sister’s illness hold you back from your path. you and i both know that onhui would want you to focus on your future, rather than” jaeha drifted off towards the end of his words, unable to continue. what could he say? worry that she would never be her same self? never return to them?

one could catch a rare moment of the duke’s bold mask dropping, a certain melancholy making its appearance, but it disappeared just as quickly when he took a large swig of his wine. silence remained as he ran his thumb over his cup before he directed his gaze back at his boy, “i understand that you are in your twenties. you most likely believe that you have the gift of time, but that’s where your naivety, immaturity, and age are revealed. it’s now that you should start considering and planning for marriage and children. that’s how you will find the options for an ideal partner, not just a suitable or decent one. if you’re willing to lower your standards, then you can hold off such planning.”

grabbing the wine bottle nearby, he poured his son’s empty glass. it was then he returned to sipping on his drink, another heavy sigh could be heard, “maybe i should had been more involved, instead of than leaving such planning to your mother. i should not be surprised she never prioritized this for you, considering her history.” he mumbled under his breath before going on, “i’m not forcing you to marry the first woman you meet or like. that’s where i made my error.”

@❃ hwangbo wolhye [Backdated to early 1851]

Hyunwoo cursed under his breath. Hide-and-seek with Ji-Eun, the perpetually lost daughter of the Kim clan, was turning out to be less fun and more frustrating. They'd been scouring the market for what felt like hours, tiptoeing past gossiping merchants and dodging grumpy chickens. This is why he initially disagreed with hide-and-seek if it meant playing with her too.

"There!" Min-ho, ever the eager beaver, pointed towards a flash of blue fabric peeking out from a cluttered shop window which none of them recognise what shop it is just yet. "Looks like Ji-Eun finally decided to take a nap in a silk shop." Hyunwoo rolled his eyes. "We weren't supposed to come near the shops, remember? Play it safe, stay in the fields." "But wouldn't it be hilarious if we…" Dae-hyun, the resident prankster, trailed off, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He pulled both of those boys together to whisper what he believed was a harmless prank. Hyunwoo wasn't exactly a saint either, he agrees too cause Ji-Eun's hiding act was starting to annoy him a little too much.

Dae-hyun's plan was simple – toss one side of the slipper over a high branch and watch Ji-Eun's bewildered face when she couldn't retrieve it. Hyunwoo, the tallest of three, picked the target – a sturdy-looking branch across the shop. He took the slipper, the delicate silk cool against his palm, and with a heave, launched it towards the tree. He beams a wide smile, proud of himself cause the slipper lands on the highest branch of that tree. All three of them cheered in sync, proud of each other for some reason before they noticed how loud they were which made them run to the other side of the shop to hide and watch. They hadn't realized it – the shoe they took from was not a silk shop, it was Gisaeng House, not someplace Ji-Eun might be hiding in.

The door creaked open, revealing not a short 15-year-old girl, but a young girl, probably a year older than them, her eyes wide with a mixture of confusion and surprise. Unlike the playful Ji-Eun, the only girl they ever knew, this lady, with her hauntingly beautiful face and unbound hair, held a presence that silenced their usual bravado. Dae-hyun, ever the quickest to react, bolted down the street, a trail of dust and muttered curses in his wake. Min-ho hesitated, then followed suit, his face a mask of guilt. Hyunwoo, however, found himself rooted to the spot. The girl, whose name he later learned was Wolhye, stared at him with a tear rolling down her cheek.

Shame washed over Hyunwoo. He'd been a participant, an accomplice in this stupid prank. Without a word, he turned and sprinted towards a nearby fruit vendor. "A ladder!" he gasped, breathless. The vendor, a portly man with a perpetually surprised expression, blinked at him. Hyunwoo, ignoring the man's confusion, grabbed a rickety ladder, toss a couple of coins from his pocket to the table. "Collateral, I will be right back" and raced back to the gisaeng house.

Wolhye, her initial anger replaced by a flicker of surprise, watched him approach. He placed the ladder gently against the tree and climbed it immediately. It is quite a weather and the shoes are stuck on the highest brunch so Hyunwoo have to climb between the brunches towards it. Initially, he planned to toss it to the ground but he found it rude and inappropriate so he tucked it into his shirt, and slowly climbed down again to finally meet the lady eye to eye. "Here," he muttered, his voice barely audible. "I'm sorry. I thought you were"

Like a deserving moment, he incapable of finishing his words as the lady's action took him by surprise.

@✿ seol riah The usual crowd of admirers had come tonight, paying their visit to Junha. He never really considered clients his "favorites," there were ones he tolerated and ones he hated. But none of them would be the wiser, with the playful smiles and cheerful laughter he gave each and every one of them. And these were clients that liked him enough, that some knew him as far back as when he was performing on the street. Military officials, political sorts, lonely housewives, widows, the curious and the experienced.

But he got bored of seeing the same old faces and repeating the same old motions.

As he was leaned over an older man, whispering his almost rehearsed sweet nothings into the man's ear, he was approached by one of the servants of the establishment. Junha's eyebrow raised quizzically as he looked in the direction the servant pointed to. The woman he noticed earlier during his performance. Maybe tonight wouldn't be /that/ boring after all.

"Then consider my night booked. No one else is to see me tonight," Junha nodded.

Peeling himself away from the man, he bowed his head respectfully and exchanged his goodbyes. Not without slipping away with the shiny new ring the man was wearing, tucking it into his pocket. Surely, he wouldn't miss it. And he would probably just think it fell off somewhere. Junha had a small collection of various items he's taken from the wealthy; rings, necklaces, clothing, accessories. The sorts of people he dealt with were so rich, accumulate so much stuff that they didn't deserve, he felt as though if they were more valuable, they would've been more vigilant.

The gisaeng made his way up to the second floor, his deep black garments in the red light of the establishment and made his blonde hair stand out more. It was easy to recognize him and spot him in a crowd with his signature look. He also preferred to wear foreign garments, having a small assortment of Japanese clothing, a ruffled white shirt from some faraway place. The black haori he wore tonight had gold and white floral embroidery along it, a generous gift from a Japanese traveler he met a few years ago. The rest of his outfit was in line with what was expected of him, as a Korean young man. But he wasn't a fan of following the rules and standards - if it weren't obvious enough.

"Good evening, you wanted to spend some alone time with me? Aren't you a pretty flower," he greeted the woman with a bow of his head. "Come with me where it's more quiet."

Junha took the lady's hand in his, leading the way to the private rooms. Inside were two cushions on either side of a table, a longer bed cushion near the opposite wall, and short tray tables where various things could be placed. The young man slid the door shut behind them before gesturing to the cushions. He didn't know what to expect from the woman, so he was almost excited to see what she had to offer. Hopefully, it would not be another housewife sobbing to him about a less than satisfactory husband.

"Pardon my manners, I almost forgot to introduce myself. Some may know me by my performance name, Lynx, but others call me Bang Junha."

@❃ seo eun Just like any other day, Yejun had Eun in his arms as he did his reading. Occasionally, he would put down his books to give her kisses and hugs before he continued with his reading. Remembering that he still owed a letter of apology, he placed down his book once again and decided to bring the topic up to his beloved.
"My love~" he started as he wrapped up his arms around her body. "I want to write an apology letter to Sunmi. is that okay?"
He wanted everything to be as honest as possible for this relationship. So, he wouldn't hide a thing from her even if it's just him writing a letter to others. Since he was going to write a letter to Sunmi, he got reminded by his close friend, Mijoo. Because of everything, the war and the gala, he didn't get the chance to talk with Mijoo. Mijoo had been avoiding him and he wanted to fix it.
"I need to write to Mijoo too." He gave her cheek a kiss that easily travelled to her lips. "Mm... may I?"

@❃ kwon nabi A heavy silence fell into the room. It’s contrasting in comparison to the many nights in which he had once sought her company, of when he would lay his head on her lap and feel her gentle fingers comb through the strands of his hair, where her presence was a welcome respite to the coldness of any weather. But tonight’s summer air felt suffocating and unbearable. It was as if Byeol’s words had knocked the wind out of him until every breath he tried to muster felt heavier than the last.

He listened intently as she confessed the truth of her knowledge, her words echoing in the depths of his mind. Each syllable laced with the pain, guilt, and remorse of years in which it had been wrapped within a veil of secrecy and hidden truths on her lips.

Kiwoon wished everything was a lie. How could she have kept this from him for so long? Did she not understand the gravity of what she had done because she chose to withhold the truth from him? Did she not know the pain she had caused?

Anger, betrayal, confusion—all of them surged within him until his knuckles turned white as he gripped his knees, struggling to contain the turmoil that boiled within him. Then a singular thought curled in his mind… Did she purposely get close to him just to ruin him? But, no matter how much the thought taunted him, deep down, he knew much better than to allow it to consume him.

As he looked at Byeol, sitting before him with her gaze downwards, Kiwoon couldn't help but feel a sense of overwhelming sadness wash over him. He had spent so many nights within her presence, learning more about her through prolonged hours of shared conversations. How could he dare to harbor resentment towards her? How could he dare to blame her for his own misfortune? And now, faced with the truth of her own suffering, he found himself unable to muster any anger towards her.

Byeol had lost just as much—if not more—than he ever had all because of his father's actions that implicated her in the massacre. She had been forced to endure the consequences of his family’s wretched legacy, to carry the burden of his sins on her shoulders, all while bearing the weight of her own past and sorrows.

And yet, despite everything, she had chosen to embrace him, to offer him comfort and solace in his darkest hour. She had shown him kindness and compassion when he had least deserved it, and for that, Kiwoon had no right to be upset at her. She had faced the demons of her past head-on, choosing to see him past his role as the son of the monstrous man who had altered the course of her life. She did not seek apologies from him even though they should, instead, be heavily owed to her.

"Byeol," he finally called her, as if it carried the last bit of warmth and familiarity within the silence of the room. "Do not apologize to me.” His gaze softened as he looked at her, a flicker of understanding emanating through the dim room. "If anyone is owed an apology, it is you," he murmured, his words heavy with sincerity. "You have endured so much because of my father, and yet you stood by me through the seasons…” a frail curl met his lips, “you were the first person to offer me comfort and support when no one else ever had."

For so long, he had wondered why their paths had crossed, why fate had conspired to bring them together time and time again, only to tear them apart with such cruelty. He had searched for meaning in their shared moments, in the fleeting glances and stolen conversations that had left a mark on his heart.

But now, faced with the painful truth of their inescapable destinies, Kiwoon could see how the hand of fate worked, how it guided their steps along a predetermined path. She was his retribution, the karmic balance for the sins of his family, the embodiment of the suffering that had been inflicted upon others. It was a bitter pill to swallow, the realization that his love for her had never been meant to flourish, that it had been fated to tragedy from the very beginning.

And as he looked at Byeol, he still couldn’t help but feel a sense of regret for the role she had been destined to play in his life, however fleeting it may have been. There was a sadness that swept through him, a resignation to the cruel hand fate had dealt them. But there was also a sense of acceptance, a recognition of their ill-fated end.

“Despite it all,” he continued, “I don’t regret our time together.” As he spoke, a quiet acceptance. "I know now that our time together wasn't just a coincidence," his gaze softened, “you showed me there is still beauty in this world.”

Kiwoon wished to be able to reach out and hold her hand one last time, but he knew better—that they did not owe each other anything, at least, not anymore. And so, his hand only reached for the tea that she had poured. The scent is overwhelming, filling the room with a comforting warmth that seemed to soothe the ache in his heart, if only for a second. He took a sip, letting the familiar taste wash over him, grounding him in the present moment.

"Thank you," he murmured softly, his gaze meeting hers once more. "For being my light in the darkness, even if only for a season, Byeol.”

@✿ park yeonghan [h] Nabi stands her ground and refuses to back down, her stance unwavering and her eyes meeting his gaze head-on even as the man in front of her drew closer. Her next words are calculated, meant to cut through the tension like a sharpened blade, the simmering indignation within palpable as she confronted the duke with steady resolve.

“Of course I am angry,” she retorted sharply, her voice dripping with disdain and matching Yeonghan’s austerity with that of her own. “It is not the first time that my name has graced those forsaken papers and perhaps it might not even be the last. But like all the gossip this fickle kingdom feeds into, I knew that this too would eventually pass. It was forgotten last time and it would be forgotten this time. Or so I thought. But then you—”

The madame takes a step closer to him, bringing her hand up so that her index finger jabs directly into his chest and digs in further with every word she speaks, “—decided now would be a good time to ask for my presence and refused to leave until I accepted your request, without a care in the world about the consequences that would arise from your appearance tonight at Hanbamman. I am angry at /you/, Young Master.”

The tension in the room crackled like lightning and Nabi’s chest heaved with each breath, her displeasure evident as she unleashed her frustration upon him. The creases in her forehead deepened and the scowl on her face directed at him was reminiscent of the argument they had during their reunion just four months prior.

“If you do not appreciate the assumption that Lady Mugunghwa is making, then you should have never come here in the first place. You are only seemingly proving her point. This is the second time our names have been linked in the papers, and we cannot let this happen again. It will do both of us no good, but most importantly, it will certainly impact your marriage prospects. No matter how much of an eligible bachelor you may be, there is no woman in the world that wishes to hear that her husband’s heart is one that must be shared.”

She concludes her scolding of him with an exasperated sigh, her finger dropping from his chest back down to her side as the room fell silent from the gravity of her words. In a softer tone tinged, she adds, “you must be more careful with your actions, lest the Ton misunderstands our relationship once more.”

@❃ kwon nabi The calcite white moon had risen to hide behind the clouds when Yeonghan finally gained entrance into Hanbamman. He should not have pushed on what positive standing remained of Nabi’s good faith in him, but he wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer when matters were this critical . . . nor even if she said she did not wish to see him. He had to see her. After the gossip papers had been released onto the ravenous ton, his first thought was to find Nabi and to devise a plan to protect her secret, lest it were exposed--and he knew without a single doubt, that /that/ then would be the last time he'd ever lay eyes on her. He couldn't let that happen, if he could help it.

It was also then in the papers that Yeonghan learned Bora was also residing in Hanseong. Long had their relationship lost its brilliance in the cold wind, but now that he knew of her whereabouts, he had to find her too.

As he passed through the endless halls within, his pace grew ever more urgent. He needed to see her. To see how she was faring after her life had been written and published for the ton to gawk at. The writer's words angered him to the core. His anger was of the visceral kind, the kind he only knew of when life-or-death was involved. It was brooding rage that could not be diffused no matter how many times he mentally reaffirmed himself that like all gossip, this would soon pass.

His fists held tight, clutched to his sides.

The Hanbamman bodyguard had led him further back than he had anticipated, but Yeonghan assumed it had been done for good measure. They were far away from the joviality of things. The halls were quieter. But once the door had been slid open for his entrance, he entered without a second thought and closed the door behind him.

He barely had a moment to take her in before her missiles flew at him. He should have expected her animosity, especially after having been so relentless in his demand to see her tonight.

"'Why am I here'?" he questioned with disbelief, slightly wounded that she did not want to see him at all. "I had to see you, Byeol. Of course, I read what was in the papers. It is the very reason I am here."

Yeonghan spoke with a certain sternness in his tone, meeting her fiery gaze with his own as he walked towards her. "The papers have ventured too close for comfort about your life. It unnerves me that they would publish such things about you and your family—nor do I appreciate that it was made an assumption that I ... that I would take you in as anything less than my wife. Does that not anger you?"

@✿ cha kiwoon There is a long silence that envelops them that continues long after she pours the tea and sets it in front of him. It is different from the comfortable silence they once shared in the past; instead, it is unfamiliar and disturbing, so loud that it drowns out the noise from the floors below them, the only sound louder being the thumping of her own heartbeat. While she had anticipated this moment, there was still something unnerving about this whole encounter that seems to suffocate any semblance of comfort.

Kiwoon’s words cut through the tension in the air like a sharp blade, and though spoken softly, the impact reverberates through the room, echoing in the madame’s ears long after the words have left his lips. She knows her response should come easily and flow forth without hesitation since it is not a hard question to answer at all. Yet, as she opens to speak, the words are stuck in , the gravity of the situation bearing down on her like never before. She had known it was only a matter of time before he would come seeking answers, but despite her preparation, it seemed she found herself at a loss for words in the face of his vulnerability.

“. . .not the entire time,” she answers truthfully. And then, softer still, almost as if to herself, she adds, “If I had known this entire time, I would not have been able to care for you in the manner I do now.”

There is a pause as she chooses her next words carefully, gaze fixated down at her lap where she is playing with her fingers. “When we first met at Sook, when I was still Seo Byeol and you were but a marquess, I had no idea,” Nabi begins, her voice tinged with a hint of melancholy. “But when I returned to Hanseong at the start of last year, I thought of you, and it was only when I sent someone to search for you that I was told of the rumors that had risen after your father’s death. I could not believe it, but I could not just ignore the weight of those revelations. So I decided that, perhaps, I should not seek you out anymore, and our paths were not meant to cross again.”

Her confession is punctuated by a brief pause, the silence in the room stretching between them like a taut wire. “But then you came to celebrate your ascension at Hanbamman, and you recognized me immediately,” she states, reminiscing about their unexpected reunion. “More concerned for my well-being when you should have hated me for leaving you to wake up alone. It felt like fate was playing a very cruel joke on us. But you were so earnest, and all you asked was for my company, and I could not find it in my heart to deny you such a simple request.”

Nabi’s throat tightens with emotion, a lump forming and threatening to betray the façade of composure she’s carefully constructed, and she feigns a cough to clear it away. “I knew that you would find out one day and that a day like this would come, but I could not bring myself to bring it up. You looked up to your father so much and always wanted to follow in his footsteps. I could not be the one to shatter your perception of him.”

Her gaze remains fixed downwards, her hands trembling ever so slightly as she struggles to contain the tumult of emotions raging within her. “And I . . . I feared your reaction,” she admits, her voice barely a whisper. “It would have broken my heart if you had denied the truth and buried it. It was selfish of me to do so, but I did not want to remember you in such a horrible light . . . so I avoided it.”

“And now, here we are,” she murmured, her voice heavy with sorrow as she finally lifted her eyes to look at the duke. Nabi wanted to reach out to him, to offer him some sort of comfort, but she knew that there was little she could do to ease the despair that he must be feeling.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice barely audible above the silence that enveloped them. “I’m so sorry, Kiwoon.” It felt inadequate, the apology ringing hollow in the silence of the room, but it was all she had to offer him.

@❃ bang junha It was a Wednesday, and the countess, finally freed from her duties at the Office of Inspection, found herself at a loss for activity. Her friends were occupied, leaving her with no alternative but to visit the one familiar place she could rely on: Hanbamman. As she arrived, she was surprised to find a crowd gathered around the stage where performers typically danced.

Riah casually ordered a bottle of the establishment’s finest plum wine to enjoy. Normally, she frequented Hanbamman with Eunbyeol or Aera, sometimes both, but their absence subdued her spirits. Riah didn’t mind solitude, but it was her ennui that left her slightly discontented.

The lively music filled the air, drawing the countess's gaze back to the stage where a vibrant crowd had gathered. Her customary spot was on the second floor, offering a direct view of the stage below, where a table was always reserved for her whenever she graced the establishment. Over time, she had paid enough visits that the receptionist knew to secure her preferred perch without needing to be reminded.

Tonight, however, there was a surprise awaiting her—the gisaeng who took the stage was unfamiliar. This new performer, unknown to the countess despite her numerous visits, immediately caught her attention with his striking blonde locks. Intrigued, she then studied his beautiful face: structured with a prominent nose, high cheekbones, and full lips.

His dance proved to be captivating, holding the countess spellbound as she leisurely sipped on her wine, thoroughly entertained by the spectacle unfolding before her. Whenever his gaze briefly met hers during his performance, a spark ignited within her. She knew in those fleeting

In the wake of these moments, Riah resolved to make her fixation a reality. She promptly summoned one of the servants, insisting on a private audience with the mesmerizing gisaeng, regardless of the cost. For Riah, once her curiosity was piqued, there was no turning back. She was determined to possess whatever or whoever had captured her interest, no matter the expense.

"If he's already booked for the night, I'll pay double," Riah declared with unwavering confidence, revealing the pouch of mun she carried as evidence of her resolve.

@✿ oh sejin "Of course. Please, get yourself settled in," the madame replies, holding the door to her office open and gesturing to the seat in front of her desk. As the yangban takes his place, she signals to a staff member for a cup of freshly-brewed tea to be delivered promptly. Following him into the office, Nabi settled comfortably into her chair, shaking her hands in a congratulatory manner as she prepared to address him.

"Welcome to Hanbamman, Lord Sejin," she greeted him, her tone warm and friendly yet tinged with a hint of formality. "I hope your first time has been worthwhile, but if not, then know Madame Kwon at your service." The announcement of the change in her name was subtle yet significant, a shift that spoke volumes without needing to be explicitly stated. She knew the commander was perceptive enough to catch the nuance, avoiding the need for a direct declaration of her new identity.

She watches as he pulls out a bag clinking with lots of mun, and for some reason, it is not surprising to her that Sejin going straight into business. In fact, there is a sense of pride in witnessing his growth from the naïve nobleman she had originally met him as. He had evolved into a cunning man who understood the intricacies of the game, both in asking the right questions and knowing the appropriate price to pay.

But before they can dive further into their conversation, the door to her office swings open, and a courtesan enters with the tea the madame had requested earlier. As the courtesan bows respectfully and exits, Nabi takes charge, pouring the tea into bone china cups with practiced ease.

"Well," she begins, placing a cup in front of Sejin, "I fear you may have to elaborate more on that. It is not uncommon for members of your station to utilize spies, especially against one another. Given your family's lineage and deep roots in the military, it may also have to do with the Ministry. It might not even be about your family specifically."

She paused, head tilted and a thoughtful expression crossing her features as she considered his request. "But of course, I am sure I will be able to point you to someone who knows more than I might, granted your ask is not too much." Her words carried a hint of caution, a reminder of the need to maintain a balance between information and discretion in the clandestine dealings they were both familiar with.

@✿ seol riah [ early Autumn 1869 ]

Junha was already in a mildly weird mood tonight. The beautiful golden blonde he spent so long perfecting over the summer was beginning to fade. While it was still a warm honey color, it paled in comparison to the daffodil hue it once was. Regardless, he would work as always and keep the clients of hanbamman pleased. After tying his hair into a half updo with a black ribbon, he dabbed just a hint of red lipstick to his lips to add some color and lined his eyes.

As the sun was beginning to set, the gisaeng house opened. The wealthy patrons began to fill up the rooms, some having just come from their important jobs to drink and gamble. A significant amount were lounging by the stage, waiting for the performances to begin. The young newcomer slinked his way onstage and gestured for the musicians to begin playing his selected song. As the slow and heavy song began to play, he followed the choreography that he knew like the back of his hand. His body moved like ink - slow and calculated, but also with flow. During his dance, he maintained eye contact with the patrons, noticing one in particular who he had never seen before. A young woman and judging from her attire, she was a yangban lady. Perhaps she would be like the other wealthy women that visit. Throw some extra money for alone time with him, fawn over him as he showered them in individualized attention, before going back to whatever dull and uninteresting life they led during the day.

Guess he would have to see.

As his performance was coming to an end, he flashed a flirty grin to the audience and gave a bow before stepping off to go backstage. Now, he just had to mingle. It wasn't his favorite part of the job, but it could be fun from time to time being in a persona. And so he sauntered out from backstage and to the main floor, warmly greeting guests as he passed by.

@❃ seo jin Jinseok had expected a lot of things when he felt the tender touch of her hand against his cheek. He expected her to make him look at her so she could disagree with all the horrible things he had said about himself - most people did, after all. It was a human reflex, to tell someone the exact opposite of what they thought about themselves, to go and tell them not to think this lowly about themselves. A reflex and nothing more. Perhaps it was an instinct of self-preservation, almost. If someone could say the worst about themselves without being corrected, didn't that mean that everybody should do the same thing? Admit to their deepest flaws and harshest truths?

Truth be told, most people only opened the abyss inside of them to /be/ opposed. To be told differently. It was like fishing at night, fishing for the silver coin of hope. Of someone seeing the best in them where there was no such thing to be found.

What he didn't see coming was the gentle press of lips against his own, stunning him into such silence, he couldn't even protest. Should he? Her kiss felt like the childhood one they never got to share. Brief, innocent. An action where words where not enough and worlds had collided. If things had gone differently, they would have shared this kiss years ago and Jinseok wouldn't feel so terribly guilty for it not being enough. Because... because there went his untouched flower. The spring blossom had colored itself a deeper shade of crimson with this kiss, turning a magnolia blossom into a deeply red carnation. Was everything in this world destined to turn from the purest affection to desire?

He heard her talk. Heard her speak and apologize, but it was nothing but a ringing in his ears as he moved forward, shifting on the pillow he was sitting on so he was on his knees, reaching for her face with both his hands to cup her jaw, fingertips near gentle against her cheeks as he pulled her forward and reconnected their lips. He understood. Words were not enough to express the hurt. No comfort came from syllables strung together until they lost all meaning. And so he kissed her, kissed her like the boy he had once been had wanted to. Kissed her like the man he now was. It was all he could do right now. Nothing ever felt perfectly right, anyway. So why not cling to that one thing they still were able to make right?

@❀ choi jinseok His confession stunned her for the slightest moment. It seemed impossible that she could ever hate this man, not with the joyous memories they shared in their simplest of times. But instead of immediately jumping into a declination of his comment, she patiently and quietly sat beside him, continuing to soothingly rub the back of his hand until he pulled his from hers. She wanted so badly to reach back out and take it again, to bring him comfort at this time. But as he spoke, she found herself rooted in her spot like a statue, listening to every word he said.

She didn’t loath the man he had become, on the contrary it was the cruel fate he was forced to endure that bore her hatred. He of all people didn’t deserve the hand he was dealt; she knew that for certain. He had suffered a tragedy that many weren’t strong enough to fight through, a situation she could empathize with. Despite their different experiences, their lives as they knew them had ended with a single moment in time, shattering their hopes, dreams, and wellbeing.

His vulnerability about what he experienced was admirable, and it drew her in. It was as if she was under a spell, held captive by his words as she just looked up at him even as he was looking away, still focused on the flames of the candles.

“Yes, I wish that too. Wish we had never lost each other.”

The words spoken so softly from his lips almost made Jin believe that she had misheard him. That one sentence held so much meaning… The palpable tension in the room, the soft crackle of flames on candles, and the way the light from them illuminated the man sitting beside her, all of it clouded her judgment. Her body moved before she had time to stop herself, her hand reaching up to his cheek to turn his head toward hers once more and her head leaning in until her lips connected with his.

It was a short-lived kiss as Jin quickly pulled away, realizing what she had done. She quickly stammered apologetically, “I’m sorry, Jinseok. Something came over me. It was so wrong of me to do that to you.” She removed her hand from his cheek, letting both of her hands fall to her lap, her gaze following after them as she looked down in embarrassment from her thoughtless action.

@❃ seo jin She was right. Their hands had been so much smaller and he had yet to fill out his teenage body, gangly limbs and cracking voice and yet he had held her hand so tightly. His mother had told him that girls needed to be protected. And Jinseok had protected Jin with all his young might. A pup, barking up every tree to make sure his mistress was safe where she wandered the woods and smelled the flowers of the spring. He had sworn it to his mother. Was that the reason she had never told him what had ended up happening to Jin? Or was it because she was afraid he would find her. A lowly gisaeng. A woman so far below his standing, it would bring shame to the family name his father so lovingly groomed. Groomed it like a tree in the garden, like the heir of their house.

Now here he was, looking at the girl that had captured his heart so long ago. Touched. Beaten. Broken into the tiniest bits and the very fabric that made up who she was. Her eyes were still the same. Her hand in his, too. Her smile felt different and yet it touched something inside of him Jinseok had buried with his dreams. The child he had strangled and buried with the sword and bow. With his crutches and the sling that had bound his arm.

"You would have hated me", he confessed, looking down at where her thumb was stroking slow circles into the back of his hand, a crease appearing between his brows when he realized that he was not the same, innocent boy whose hand she had been holding. He was the lowly one. The expression on his face was pained at best, rueful and agonized at worst as he pulled his hand away from hers almost apologetically, the thing inside his chest curling when he remembered why he had not allowed anybody to touch him in years. The realization broke a dam, somehow, making words spring forth like he had broken a barrel and was now watching the gunpowder inside pour out, littering the ground around them, ready for Jinseok to ignite it.

"I hated myself. My failure. My inaptness. It was all there, you know? My own damn horse took me down, like I took down the honor of my house. Everything was crumbling around me and I wished that Dae would've broken my neck, instead of my collarbones. Then it would have spared me the shame. The disgust in my father's eyes. You would have loathed everything I had become, Jin." He chuckled, turning his head away with a smile as he gazed at the display of candles illuminating the room around them, suddenly at this place of strange peace that he always found when the pain had come creeping up on him. "The Jinseok that was chained to the bed, broken bones and all, wishing for death, was not the Jinseok who held your hand and protected you from bugs, Jin. I should have been. Should have stayed that boy. But yes. Yes, I wish that too. Wish we had never lost each other."

@❀ choi jinseok "It's not that."

So few words were spoken, but still they relieved the anxiety that had settled into Jin without her recognizing it. Part of her had worried that he might never take her up on her invitation and he would disappear from her life once more without anything more to say. Or perhaps the anxious energy she felt was due to the thought that he only planned to oblige to her request to be polite and that he would say his final goodbyes. In her eyes, she had nothing to offer him now, except an ear to listen and a shoulder to lean on. Her family, her status, her value in the eyes of the people around her, all of it was gone. And yet here he was, telling her that he didn't want her to walk away that day, and that he would have come sooner.

"There is no need to fret about not coming sooner, I’m well aware of the way people love to talk. It’s funny how people paid me little attention in the past and I never heard of my name being brought up in gossip, but now that I’ve become a “lowly” gisaeng, they have so much to say.”

She looked down at the large hand that enveloped her much smaller one, the hint of a smile on her lips widening a little bit as she gently returned his squeeze. She had learned to fake a smile for clients and make them feel like she was happy to see them, but it had been a long time since she had truly been happy, or even at ease in her surroundings. But here, in this moment, she didn't feel the need to pretend to be someone she wasn't and the smile that played on her brims this time was genuine and content. “The last time you held my hand like this, our hands were so small. Your hand wasn’t much bigger than mine then, and yet I still felt protected and safe. It feels like it was just yesterday… and yet so much has happened.”

Despair clouded her features for a moment in recollection of the events she endured, but then her mind wandered to what her companion had experienced as well. He heart ached for the struggles he battled as well, her thumb rubbing the back of his hand in circles soothingly as she continued to speak, “I wish that I could have been there when you needed me most.”

@❃ seo jin What about the conversation at the market made it hard for him to be here? The statement confused him enough for him to pause in the motion of sitting down, shooting Jin a slightly befuddled look, strong brows creasing above his dark eyes as he slowly shook his head and sat down more comfortably. If anything, their conversation had it made hard for him to watch her walk away. They had been nothing but children when she had last walked away from him and both of them were broken people when they had reunited by nothing but pure chance. The last time Jinseok had let her go, she had been returned to his life bearing the deepest scars a person could carry. And perhaps a part of him felt guilty for it. Felt as if things would've gone differently, had he been a little more mature, had he been a little bit less reckless. Logically speaking, he knew that he could have done nothing to prevent her fate from playing out exactly as it had been embroidered onto the carpet of life.

"It's not that", he told her slowly instead of saying all of that out loud, reaching out for her hand to give it a tiny squeeze. He was at ease here. Enough so to know that there were no eyes watching them, no ears listening in. At ease enough to take her hand the same way he had done so many times when they had been children and Jinseok had roped her into all sorts of exploration around the house and the lush gardens. "I didn't want you to just walk away from me. I would have come sooner. But I've never been here before and you know how this city is. Everybody is running their mouths. Yet I wanted to come. I wanted to talk to you more, as well. Although I do not know what to say, even if I just sit here and listen. I just... I don't know. Forgive me. I'm rambling."

@❀ choi jinseok Nostalgia had hit her hard that day in the marketplace when her gaze met Choi Jinseok’s. It felt like an entire lifetime ago that they were children, playing together happily, giggling to themselves while their parents watched. And yet, seeing him there of all places brought back memories that seemed almost as if they had happened in just the past week. Memories of their childhood and early teens flooded her thoughts in that small moment they had just looked at each other. And when they spoke, she felt comfort in knowing that someone in Hanseong knew her for who she was and not for the tragedy she had experienced.

Their albeit short conversation was also heavy with catching up on what they had both been through before their reunion. But the market was not the place for such topics, and Jin feared that people would start rumors about Jinseok if they saw him speaking with a lowly gisaeng such as herself. For a more private setting, she had invited him to visit her at Sook, unsure of a more private place for them to converse. She had walked away after her spoken invitation, not wanting to burden him by waiting for a reply right then and there. If he wished to see her again, he would come when he was ready.

She had finished a dance performance one night when another gisaeng pulled her aside, informing her that she had a guest requesting for her. Although she couldn’t be sure that it was JInseok, she had no regular customers that would pay to spend time with her specifically when there were more established, beautiful gisaengs around her. This thought gave her hope that perhaps it was her long lost friend. With a perk to her step, she freshened up in the resting area for the gisaengs, wanting to look her absolute best. She changed from her performance attire into a red hanbok with gold accents, touched up her makeup, and made her way to the private room where she would wait for her visitor, anticipation building within her at the possibility of a treasured person from her past once more.

It wasn’t long after she had taken a seat that the screen door slid open to reveal the exact person she had hoped to see. She couldn’t help the hint of a smile that spread across her lips at the sight of him before her. She had thought this in the marketplace, but here in the low light of the room, he looked even more handsome than he did when they were in their teens.


The nervous smile he gave her elicited a soft laugh from her rouged lips as she motioned to the seat next to her, “Please have a seat. You don’t need to be nervous, Jinseok. I appreciate you accepting my invitation to come here. I’m sure it wasn’t the easiest thing for you to do, especially after the conversation we had in the market. But I would like to speak with you more, in the privacy of a space where we won’t have to worry about eavesdroppers.”

@❃ seo jin Jinseok was filled with too many regrets. Filled up to the brim with it having nowhere to leak out of him, making him feel bloated with demons he had never been able to drown. Ever since he had said his goodbyes beneath the magnolia tree, Jinseok had not been a stranger to mistakes, despite the promise he had made to himself that day. He would do better, would stop tainting things he loved just because he wanted them to fit the mold perfectly. He had done it, over and over again. Breaking a vow to himself. And then he had been the one who hadn't been good enough, had been the one not to fit without being cut into pieces and even then he hadn't been enough to fit whatever piece had been missing from Sunyoung's puzzle.

It pained him to even think about it. And the reason for it was simple. He had been recently reminded of the only love he had never been able to taint. He had never been able to corrupt this one singular love he had held dear to the heart of an inner child that been crushed a long time ago beneath the weight of his own sins. And he had was about to go see the very girl that love had always belonged to.

You just never forgot your firsts.

At sixteen, Jinseok had been convinced his father would betrothe them to one another. Oh, how stupid and naive he had been. It had been his own naivety that had broken him apart, in the end. Blood ran thicker in these lands. Titles were heaver than hearts. Desires were stronger than duty, than affection, than what people wanted. But at least he had been able to face her without regrets regarding the two of them. His only blossom that had never wilted away.

"Right this way, sir", the gisaeng leading him into the private room he had booked bowed, pushing open the sliding door, letting him step inside. For a moment, Jinseok wanted to hesitate. Wanted to turn and leave. What would people think? A Choi, paying a gisaeng for her time? Not unheard of. U heard of for Jinseok, though. He had never been here before. Had never paid... for company.
But there she was, as beautiful as he remembered. Pretty and untouched just the way she had always been, a flower trapped in ice forged of the sadness now residing in those eyes.

"Jin", he greeted softly after he had entered, smiling at her helplessly, nervously even. "Thank you for the invitation. I didn't think I'd see you this soon after the market. Not after... what we had to talk about."