Chapter Song: War of Hearts (acoustic version) - Ruelle
"And I believe it is in the right of my character to apologize for shoving you into the same mold as them when you have shown me nothing but kindness and respect. You... You are nothing like them, San. I apologize for not admitting it sooner. So stop thinking so little of yourself when I think so highly of you."
다섯
Wooyoung wakes up the next morning with no mental energy to even shift from where he's curled up in his sheets, staring blankly at the wall next to him as he hugs a pillow close. He completely dismisses Soojin, knowing that the marks littered across his skin would demand for answers that he simply just can't give.
So after answering some concerned questioning on if he was okay, the female omega leaves him to bathe and eat alone.
He stays in bed longer, motionless for a good hour or two before he finally can pull himself out of the sheets, walking slowly over to the mirror and staring at himself.
His hair is a mess and his eyes are a bit puffy, cheeks red. Lowering his gaze, he stares at the red marks scattered across his entire chest, pulling his shirt off to take closer examination.
San did not hold back at all.
His collarbones were covered in the marks, a particularly dark one sitting in between his pecs and another one on his left shoulder. The one that shakes him to his core though, is the one marked right on his scent gland. It was the darkest, bitten in with the intent to leave its mark for days to come.
He's never been marked up like this ever in his life. Stuff like this always made him wince and roll his eyes, finding the possessiveness overbearingly idiotic. So it's quite a slap to the face when he finds his inner omega purring at the display that Choi San has claimed across his skin.
Moving away, he fills the tub with the now lukewarm water before slipping out of the rest of his clothes and getting in, hugging his legs close to his chest. Raising a hand, he presses a few fingers gently against the mark on his neck, feeling a twinge of soreness run down from there.
Wooyoung can feel the prickle of frustrated tears growing in his eyes that he quickly wipes away.
Things changed.
He's not even sure that the engagement ball is when they did, but it was definitely the catalyst to pull him out of his stupor of what was actually happening to him.
He has feelings for Crown Prince Choi San.
Wooyoung just can't deny it anymore. This pull he felt, the restless need to be close to the alpha was undeniable. His flushed face whenever he caught San staring or heard the loving tone of his voice when he verbalized his adoration for Wooyoung was undeniable.
All those excuses he made about how San only wanted him to pursue a chase or how his words were only tools for a means to tease him were complete bullshit.
I think I am falling completely and hopelessly in love with you.
Wooyoung covers his face with his hands, sniffling as tears cling to his lashes, squeezing his eyes shut tightly to stop the tears from flowing. What has he done? This has turned into something that he never expected it to become. What he's doing to San, and what he's doing to himself...
San's feelings for him were far deeper and far more serious than he lead himself on to believe. And his feelings for San had hit him so suddenly like an arrow to the chest, twisting painfully and bleeding out quicker with every tug. This wasn't a joke anymore— and maybe it was never a joke to begin with, but he was too blinded by his own ignorance to notice until the monster that their relationship was, had grown far past the leashes he tried to contain them in.
Afraid.
He was afraid. The moments they shared between each other flash in his mind like a picture book, even the smallest things holding such significant meaning in the stares they shared and the brushes of their fingertips. It was shocking how the hidden feelings behind these moments never hit him at that time.
He wonders if things could've been different that first night they met. If he'd just introduced himself and explained the situation, certainly San would've understood completely.
And they would've never gotten as close as they had.
Suddenly realizing just how real everything was terrified him beyond belief.
Wooyoung stares down into the clear water.
Just two more weeks. The Christmas Ball was a week away and the month would be over the week after that. Then he'll be back home, and Choi San will be nothing more than a memory.
The thought squeezes his heart painfully. Not seeing San anymore— thinking of how San would react to him just suddenly disappearing without a word makes him feel absolutely terrible.
But Wooyoung can't keep doing this to San. San absolutely cannot know who he is. The pain all of it would cause to them both would be too much to bare at this point and Wooyoung is afraid that if it comes down to that, his heart wouldn't be able to go through with it. So no— San can never find out.
He'll make sure of it.
-
Wooyoung is only able to go so long hiding out in his room.
It's been about three days of him staying strictly in between the four walls, doing nothing else but staring aimlessly out the window in boredom or completing a whole bunch of sketches.
He tries to ignore the fact that a lot of the pages soon become filled with drawings of a happy Prince San, eyes sparkling and crinkling and dimples poking out happily with his grin. It's not often that he pulls out his colored pencils, enjoying painting far more. But leaving San in a grey scale seemed like a crime, so he was unable to stop himself from coloring the portrait with all the specific details that he finds himself remembering of San— like the freckles on his neck, the prominent curve of his Cupid's bow when smiled, or the cute arch in his nose when he scrunched it up with his grin.
Wooyoung must have had a mopey look on his face, because on the third day of his self isolation, Yeosang comes barging into his room with a firm expression and the Jung omega knows that Soojin must have gotten tired of his behavior and confessed to the Royal.
"That is quite enough. I have not seen you in three days and Soojin is worried. What is going on with you?" Yeosang asked.
Wooyoung closed his sketchbook with a soft sigh, standing up. "Nothing. I just... did not feel like going out and doing things today."
"Oh really?"
"Yes..."
Yeosang rolls his eyes, eyes trailing over him before landing on his neck. "So something happened with Prince San. Makes sense, considering how you have been up in here hiding while he's been running around in the most awful moods I have ever seen."
Wooyoung froze.
"You know."
Yeosang gives him a pointed look as he sits down on the sofa, crossing his arms.
Wooyoung let's out a laugh of complete disbelief. "You have known this entire time, haven't you?"
The older omega sighs, uncrossing his arms and nodding. "Yes. If you are talking about you being the mystery omega San has fallen completely head over heels for, then I have known from the moment I met you that day in the parlor room. There are not many omegas in the palace that have the same fluffy white cape and bold personality that San fawns over every time we talk."
Wooyoung covers his face with his hands, stressed. "By the Moon..."
"Wooyoung," Yeosang calls gently, patting the spot next to him. "Sit down. Let's talk."
Wooyoung sits down quietly, eyes lowered. "Does he...?"
"No, he does not know. Not yet, at least. But it is not going to take long before he realizes it, Wooyoung. You cannot keep this a secret. Both our families are far too close for him not to find out eventually."
Wooyoung squeezes his eyes shut. "As long as he finds out long after I have left this place, it does not matter to me if he does."
Yeosang huffs out a dry chuckle. "How long do you think this charade you have put up will last? Truly? He will find out. Better you tell him before he does himself."
"He will hate me."
"No, he will not."
Wooyoung brings his legs up to hug them to his chest, trying to bottle up away from Yeosang's piercing gaze. "He cannot know. Please, Yeosang."
Yeosang sighs. "Why are you trying to make this far more complicated than it needs to be?"
"Because I do not want this." Wooyoung whispers. "I just want to go home. I want my life to go back to the way it was— the way it has always been. I do not want everything that comes with San. I want nothing of it."
"But you want San."
Wooyoung stays silent.
Yeosang turns away. "Everyone makes sacrifices, Wooyoung. For some people, those sacrifices seem insignificant, and for others they can change their entire life. But do not make a decision based on fear. You will live to regret it."
Wooyoung glares at the wall. "I am not afraid." He lies.
Yeosang's hard gaze doesn't leave him. "Then why are you doing this? Why will you not tell him the truth?"
"Because it is not just about me!" Wooyoung snapped. "I could care less about how any of it affects me, Yeosang. But it is everyone else around me— including San. It is good that I caught attention of this early on. All of this— these feelings... it is just a crush that I obtained from being treated in ways that no alpha has ever treated me. That is all it is. I cannot allow it to grow any bigger from there."
Yeosang stays silent for a moment.
"This is not just a crush for him."
Wooyoung deflates completely, lowering his head. "More of a reason for him to not know."
Yeosang scoffs. "You are going to break his heart."
Those words shake him to his core, and Wooyoung falls back onto the sofa, mentally exhausted. "I do not wish to talk about this anymore. San has known me for merely two weeks— hardly anything that he will not be able to get over."
Yeosang stares at him, gaze almost filled with pity upon seeing him so burdened.
"That's the thing, Wooyoung— I do not believe he will."
-
San stares blankly at the map in front of him.
The sound of distorted voices talking wash over his ears, as if his head has been dunked underwater. He was not in a good mood at all. If not for his blank face, the dark circles under his eyes from the lack of sleep definitely gave away his gloomy state.
Three days.
It's been three days since Hongjoong and Seonghwa's engagement. Three days since he crossed that line, and three days since he's last seen his Lemon.
He waited for hours everyday in that damn library whenever he could, but his Lemon never showed up.
San had ruined everything. Losing control like that— never has he acted so stupidly before. The scent of the omega's arousal had broken all self restraint he had in him and he had completely destroyed whatever type of relationship that they had going. He should've stayed there and begged for forgiveness instead of letting Jongho drag him off and then maybe, just maybe, he could've been forgiven for what he'd done.
Nothing could express the complete horror and self hatred that filled him when he returned in a panic only for the library to be completely empty.
Why did he do that?
He had no idea what to do. His Lemon made it seem like whatever happened was okay and that everything was fine, and like a fool San had believed it only to be left with the true response to his actions—
His Lemon was afraid of him.
It made him want to crawl in a corner and never leave from there, wallowing in self pity and anger at his instinctual actions. This desire for his lemon grew bigger and bigger as the days went by, and he's not sure when exactly the playful nature switched to something far deeper. Nothing about it was surprising, if he was being honest.
He knows exactly how strong his feelings for the lemon scented boy went.
He's probably known ever since that first moment he caught sight of the omega. They clicked in ways he never has with anyone else. Their relationship was so precious to him, but now all that remained were burning memories and a mind filled with regret.
"Crown Prince!"
San startles awake from his daydream, head snapping up. Everyone around the table is looking at him with mixed expressions of annoyance and confusion.
"Let us adjourn the meeting here, seeing as some of us seem far too preoccupied with other things to even listen." One of the advisors snarks, throwing San dirty looks as he comes to a stand.
San blinks out of his stupor, looking up with an alarmed expression. "Ah... I—"
"Everyone is dismissed." King Choi Haneul speaks up from the other end of the table, his eyes not once leaving his son's. "San, you stay. I need to have a word with you."
Hongjoong and Jongho exchange looks between each other as the slowly stood from the table, giving a sympathetic pat on the drained alpha's shoulder before making their way out of the meeting room with the rest of the advisors— their whispers not going unnoticed until the door shuts after them, leaving the two in silence.
A moment passes where they just stare at each other, the King trying to find some sort of give from his son's expression that he keeps blank.
"What is going on, San?"
"Nothing is going on."
"Choi San."
San clenches his hands together tightly, his father's piercing stare unnerving him to the bone. "I said it is nothing, father."
The King let's out a hum of disapproval. "You have always been such a terrible liar, San. Ever since the engagement, you have been in a terrible mood and your mind has been in different places."
San looks away, squeezing his eyes shut.
Silence.
"I... know that your mother and I, your friends, the council... practically the whole country is pushing this burden on you to find a mate—"
The younger alpha's head snaps up, eyes wide as he opens his mouth but his father quickly stops him. "Listen. I know it is hard. Trust me, if anyone understands what you are going through, it would be me. The pressure has been growing on you, I can tell. And... that is partially what I wanted to talk to you about."
San sighs. "I understand my role in—"
"I want you to consider Jung Jihoon's Omegan son Wooyoung as a potential mate."
San froze.
What?
"Wooyoung?"
The King nods, watching his expression carefully. "Yes. You have met him, correct?"
"K-Kind of." He stammers out, flustered by the sudden turn their conversation has taken.
"He is a fine omega, San. One that will stick by your side and notice things that you would not be able to— understand things you would not be able to. I believe if you would give it some consideration, he would be a perfect fit by your side."
San can't stop the bitter feeling from crawling up his chest as the words flood his ears. He can feel his hands clenching into fists, the way his jaw locks tightly and how the frustration burning within his mind starts to grow into a vicious uncontrollable monster.
He's tired of it.
Tired of the court clawing down his throat about marriage, tired of his parents shoving Jung Wooyoung in his face every second they can because they think he's the best option, and tired of his lemon acting as if the thing growing between them is nothing more than mere friendship.
He's tired of trying to appease everyone at his own expense when it just wasn't possible for everyone to be happy.
Containing his growing fury, San calmly pushes the chair back and comes to a stand. "I appreciate the concern," he grits out, turning away. "However, I would appreciate it if I would be allowed to deal with this decision on my own terms— circumstances considered."
King Choi stares at his tense son with a frown. "San, please tell me what's wrong? It is quite evident that something is obviously bothering you. You are upset—"
"I am not upset!" San finally snaps, slamming his hands against the table. Moon, he just wants to punch something right now. "I know what is expected of me. I do not need everyone reminding me of it every time I so much as walk by! All anyone says to me anymore is San, you must think smartly. San, have you made any decisions yet? San, what are you going to do? San this, San that— as if the succession itself wasn't stressful enough! I just want a moment to fucking relax my mind! Is that so much to ask for!?"
The library has no more comfort— no more of an escape for him.
Because his escape was no longer waiting for him there.
And it hurts.
His father stays quiet for a moment, eyes never shifting away from San's red face. "Take the day off. There's something that you are not telling me, San— I can tell. But I will not force you to talk to me, so please talk to someone about it." He stood, walking over before putting a gentle hand on the tense boy's shoulder. "I understand your frustrations— believe me, I do. I know it feels unfair, but we do not have the luxury of living our lives the way we desire. The happiness of our people is our first priority, and always will be. That's the sacrifice we make to ensure the harmony of this nation. All we can do is make the best of the situation."
With a final squeeze, he lets go and makes his way out of the room. "Get some rest, San."
San stays hunched over the table for a while, blank stare piercing through the wood before a pair of gentle hands pull him away from it. He looks over and locks eyes with Hongjoong who offers a small smile.
"When was the last time we sparred?"
San offers a weak smile. "Swords?"
Hongjoong grins, leading him out of the meeting room.
"Anything you want today."
-
Wooyoung doesn't really have any excuse for leaving his room except for the fact that he's sick and tired of being in there and needs to take a walk.
So he dresses in a loose white blouse with black buttons in the front and on the cuffs of the sleeves, the big collar fanning out and covering most of the marks on his skin that had begun to fade away. He pulls on a pair of loose black pants and his usual black thick soled shoes before clipping his cape on and grabbing his bag as he makes his way out of the room.
Part of him is anxious. One would think that in a huge ass palace it would be impossible to bump into the Crown Prince, but it was as if whenever he least wished to see San, that he appeared out of nowhere.
He still needs to figure out what he's going to do about the Christmas Ball that was fast approaching in a few days, and what he would do after. He's sure that King and Queen Choi would plan a proper parting for all the guests, in which he's positive San would be present in. It would be best to leave as soon as he can, pack his bags before the ball and plan to leave early that next morning.
It all felt so surreal. How quickly the weeks had gone by. It feels like he's only been at the Palace for a week. His bickering with Seonghwa and Yunho, the causal talks with Mingi and Yeosang, and his relationship with San...
It was all ending in a week.
Wooyoung felt heartbroken at the very thought of it. All the genuine friendships here that he never expected to make, slipping through his fingers like sand of an hour glass with his limited time. The coward in him isn't even sure if he'd have the guts to return in the future and face San when needed. Attending San's coronation, or another one of Ardendall's balls, or—
Or attending San's wedding.
The thought hurts more than he imagined it would. The reality of it— that San wasn't his to treasure and never would be...
"Hey! You!"
Wooyoung startles out of his daydream, blinking as he looks over his shoulder to see a pair of furious guards on the opposite end of the hall he was aimlessly walking through.
It's only then that he realizes he's never been on this side of the Palace.
"This end of the Castle is not permitted to guests!"
Ah, that explained it.
"Wait right there— we will need to confirm your identity with the Crown Prince."
Oh no.
"What's that!?" Wooyoung blurts in a panic, pointing behind them. They both turn quickly and Wooyoung wastes no time in turning and dashing down the hall like a madman, turning right.
"Hey— Wait!"
Wooyoung pushed himself to run faster, eyes filtering wildly around for some type of escape.
There's no way he can get caught like this and dragged over to San. The Prince discovering his identity would be bad enough, but to especially find out by Wooyoung being thrown into his face by guards was on a whole different level of bad.
Stopping in the middle of the hall, he looks around with anxiety to find a way out of their traces. They're still a good distance away in the other hall, but his time is running out fast— he can hear the growing footsteps of running feet get louder and louder.
Making a haste decision, he shoves a large door open to his left, and throws himself inside instead of running even further down the never ending hallways.
He shuts it as quickly and quietly as he can, standing as still as a statue with his hands still curled tightly around the handles.
Stumbling back away from it, he tries to control his heavy breathing. Wooyoung stands still as the rushing footsteps move past the door and further down the hall. It's only then that he's able to release a breath of relief, pressing his forehead against it with a soft sigh.
He's tired of running. Everyday he was running from someone or something and it was wearing down on him terribly. He knows there's no one else to blame for this situation than himself, but it doesn't stop him from feeling any worse about it.
"Again!"
Wooyoung froze.
Turning around quickly, his eyes move around curiously to find the source of the voice. He soon realizes that it's far colder in this room than it was in the rest of the castle, and there was a bright light coming from the center of the room that was surrounded by rows and rows of sheer white curtains that swayed around aimlessly and wildly.
The sound of clashing metal and heavy grunts flood his ears as he slowly approached.
Peeking through some of the curtains, he's able to make out two men in the middle of a sparring match, thin steel swords clashing against each other and echoing throughout the room with every hit.
The coldness of the room was also made evident when Wooyoung looked up to see that the ceiling over the training floor was completely gone, allowing the bright shine of sunlight and cold breeze of winter to waft through the area.
Wooyoung shifts his gaze from the top back to the two men, immediately feeling himself turn rigid— because those weren't just any two men.
It was San and Hongjoong.
Wooyoung whips himself behind one of the pillars next to him, holding a hand against his now erratically beating heart in horror.
It made sense now why the guards said they were going to take him to San to confirm his validity in the palace. It was because Wooyoung, like the idiot he was, had stumbled into San's private wing of the castle.
"You want to tell me what all this is about now?" Hongjoong grunts, pushing against the attack that a visibly annoyed San hits him with, circling back with a twirl in the handle of the sword and moving forward on the offensive instead.
Immediately San deflects the hit, frustration growing in his eyes. "I do not know."
Wooyoung slowly shifts away, planning on making his escape.
"It is about that omega, is it not?"
Wooyoung froze.
San's expression falters, lowering his sword slightly. Hongjoong hums, moving forward for another attack from the front that San easily blocks, pushing the older away slightly. "That must be why you disappeared during the engagement. What happened?"
San circles around one of the wooden dummies screwed to the floor, gripping the handle before dropping a harsh hit that Hongjoong blocks off with his own end of the handle. "I... I did something terrible."
Wooyoung squeezes his eyes shut, sliding down the pillar and sitting on the floor as he brings his legs up to hug close to his chest. The guilt already eats away at his heart upon hearing just how heartbroken San is from saying that.
Hongjoong's brows furrow. "What do you mean?"
San moves back a few steps, lowering his sword and fiddling with the handle between his fingers without meeting the older's gaze. "I ran into him in a different room and we started dancing. One thing lead to another and... we got carried away. He pushed me away when Jongho walked in and I got dragged off."
Hongjoong crosses his arms while raising his eyebrows in confusion. "Okay... So what is the issue? It was mutually done, correct?"
Wooyoung nods to himself.
"Well... yes, but—" San began only to stop, conflicted. "But what, Sannie? You do not need to beat yourself up over something that was not your fault—"
"You do not understand!" San snaps, stomping the end of his sword onto the cobble floor with anger, the sound of metal scraping against stone echoing in the room. "I succumbed to my instincts in a way that I have never done before! I was the one who could not withstand something as simple as a scent to hold myself back! Just because it was mutual does not mean it was okay! The things I did— Moon, not even newly weds would display such actions. I tainted someone so pure—" His voice cracks and he turns away, head lowered in shame. "Someone that was never mine to touch."
Wooyoung buried his face in his hands, trying to blink back his own tears of frustration. It didn't really hit him how the alpha must've been feeling during this entire ordeal. To feel as though he'd forced himself onto an omega even when he didn't, to be reassured that things were fine, only to come back and realize said omega was avoiding him.
Wooyoung made a mistake.
He should've never avoided San like that, if only to clear all these misconceptions that were obviously making the Prince hate himself. His own cowardice caused him to hide while San beat himself over day after day about what happened. If he'd only gone down and explained that it was okay and that they could move on from it, then San wouldn't be feeling this way.
"San," Hongjoong sighs, laying a gentle hand on the younger's shoulder. "Mistakes happen. That's just a part of growing up. Learning from them and moving on is the true evidence of character. I know that it is perceived as negative to be physically intimate without proper mating—"
"It is not perception, it is fact." San hissed. "At first they were simple gestures of friendliness. I do not know when my intentions shifted to something far deeper. Every time he comes around, I want nothing more than to hold him until he understands this fire that has been burning within me anytime he so much as glances my way. What in Moon's good name is wrong with me?"
Hongjoong stares. "This is far more serious than you had anticipated, huh?"
San runs a tired hand through his sweaty hair. "I have known from the moment I met him that this was no ordinary attraction. The implications behind them have just now hit me."
"Who is he?"
Wooyoung let's out a harsh laugh quietly, feeling grim.
"I have no clue." San also laughs bitterly, feeling pathetic. "All I know, whoever he is, it will not change anything. I will still want him, no matter what he says or does."
Those words couldn't have scared Wooyoung more. Not realizing just how big of an impact he's had in San's life just makes him feel a lot worse about what he's doing to the poor man.
Hongjoong visibly feels terrible for the young Prince, wanting desperately to console him but just not knowing how. "I am quite sure that he is not scared of you. He is probably just embarrassed by what happ—"
"He has been embarrassed plenty around me," San interrupts, voice cold. "Yet never once has he avoided me because of it."
"But you also have to think about the... severity of what you both might have done." Hongjoong clarifies. "Honestly, you both are being rather melodramatic for my tastes. This is more of a Seonghwa situation."
San groans, covering his face with an exasperated expression. "Leave it to you, Kim Hongjoong, to be the worst at relationship advice."
Wooyoung rolled his eyes.
Hongjoong crossed his arms. "Well, excuse me for at least trying. Seriously, there is no respect for me from you neanderthals."
San snorted, sheathing his sword away. "Forget it. Let me wallow away in misery peacefully."
Hongjoong wrapped an arm around the younger's shoulders before guiding him towards the back doors. "Now, what kind of wise elder would I be if I allowed you to do that?"
"At least you got the elder part correct."
"You trail on thin ice with me, Choi San."
Wooyoung waits a few moments after their bickering dies out to peek around the pillar, eyes scanning to find it now empty.
He honestly can't believe he got away with that. Usually luck was never on his side, but the Moon decided to be generous on his poor soul for once in his life and show mercy.
Other than San being a complete idiot by not listening to Hongjoong, he knows most of the predicament that the two of them have been placed in has been caused by him.
Truthfully it was never his intention for things to go as far as it had that night, let alone that it would be affecting San as much as it was. He honestly believed that San wouldn't have cared about what happened.
Mostly because no alphas really did care, mutual or not.
Wooyoung really hates himself for unconsciously shoving San into that mold of buffoon alphas again like this. It was just too hard for him. To think that someone actually wanted him for who he was and not for what he had to offer or what would come with being associated with him.
He could be a beggar on the side of the street and San would still smile brightly while he hugged the life out from him.
Moon, he is awful.
Shaking his head to clear his mind, he comes to a stand and straightens out his aching muscles, turning to leave the room.
But suddenly a gust of wind from above sends the sheer white curtains flying wildly around him, twirling and swaying visciously with the cold breeze as if dancing on a ballroom floor. Wooyoung finds himself surrounded, the soft fabric brushing against his face with a gentle force and going over his head.
He tries to move but they wrap around him, pushing further into his face and blocking his sight as he tries to push them down against the force of the wind, only for another to go flying over his head. "Rats! Who designed such a stupid interior." Wooyoung scowled, practically fighting against the curtains at this point.
All of a sudden, there's a firm tug on the curtain that was wrapped around his chest and Wooyoung shrieks as he goes stumbling backwards only to bump into a warm and firm body.
The auroma of salted caramel and milk chocolate filling his senses is enough of an indication of who it was, and he froze.
Because the scent was mingled with bitterness.
Carefully, Wooyoung turns to see San staring down at him with a blank face, expression smoothed of any lines and lips pursed in a grim line. But the Prince's eyes always gave him away, and right now they burned with a raging fire of all sorts of emotions ranging from desperation to downright despair.
"S-San!" Wooyoung stammers, stepping back timidly, and the older's hands clench tighter around the curtain trapping the omega. "F-Funny running into you like this again, huh?"
San's eyes don't shift from his face, drinking in the sight of him that he's dearly missed for days now. "We need to talk."
Wooyoung filters his eyes around the room to avoid his gaze. "Oh? About what?"
San peers down at him, shaking his head vehemently. "You know what."
Wooyoung opens his mouth to spew out a list of excuses but another one of those blasted curtains goes flying into his face and he squeezes his eyes shut, turning away from the fabric's assault against his face.
San watches him, eyes softening. "Are you alright?"
Wooyoung snaps his eyes open, turning back to meet San's gaze through the sheer mesh between them before trailing lower. San's skin is still flushed with the workout he'd done earlier, the loose white cotton slip he was adorning sticking to his stomach like a second skin, showing off a very toned stomach. Wooyoung swallows, timidly meeting the older's stare once again. "Y-Yes. These curtains are the most irritating thing I have come across." He stammers out, turning red.
San blinks, his lips almost curling into a smile. "Is that so?"
Wooyoung nods, grimacing as harsh cold wind flutters against them, pushing the curtain into his face again. "For the love of—"
"Relax." San hums, reaching up and gently pulling the material away to reveal Wooyoung's embarrassed face. "You must admit how ethereal they make you look right now."
Wooyoung snorts. "Is the poet back?"
San's face immediately flips and he goes blank again. "Funny coming from you. When you have not been back in days."
The omega falters, looking down at his fingers. "I was busy—"
"Do not lie." The alpha bites out. "Not to me."
"San—" He began, only to stop himself short, not sure how to go about this conversation.
"You said it was fine," San whispers, his face finally breaking and a pained expression growing. "If it was fine, then why have you not come to the library?"
Of course he wouldn't beat around the bush— he never did. The small voice he spoke with and the expression he gave was enough to make Wooyoung feel like the absolute worst.
"I was embarrassed." Wooyoung whispered back, as if they were in a room full of people and had run off to a hidden corner trying not to get caught.
"I'm so sorry—" San's voice cracks, backing away and no. Wooyoung immediately grips his arms tightly, looking up at him pleadingly. "No, San. You have nothing to apologize for. If anyone has to apologize, it's me. I was the one who lost control first and it just caused a chain reaction. I... I have never had something like that happen to me before. Please forgive me—"
"Lemon, I still took advantage of the situation." San began but Wooyoung cuts him off, knowing what he needed to say.
"You could not have take advantage of a situation that I fully wanted to happen."
No words were more horrifying for him to say, but Wooyoung knew he needed to say them for San to stop blaming himself about this.
A pause. San stares at him with bewilderment, words still processing. "What do you mean by that?"
"You know what I mean." Wooyoung murmurs, face reddening but he still keeps the Prince's gaze so that he understands his words to be true.
San looks at him with red ears, exhaling carefully. "But, I—"
"San, we could go all night trying to fight over who's to blame. We both got carried away, it was an accident. But accidents do not entail that it was undesired, okay?" He manages to squeak out through his own embarrassment. San only nods meekly.
Wooyoung bites the inside of his cheek. "Listen, I... I do not have good experiences with most alphas outside my family." He began carefully. "The alphas in my pack... they are not much to befriend, let alone fawn over. You are the first I have felt genuinely comfortable around outside mated ones and my father and brother. And I believe it is in the right of my character to apologize for shoving you into the same mold as them when you have shown me nothing but kindness and respect. You... You are nothing like them, San. I apologize for not admitting it sooner. So stop thinking so little of yourself when I think so highly of you."
San sniffles.
Wooyoung looks up with wide eyes. "Are you crying!?"
"No." He lies stubbornly, rubbing furiously at his eyes. "I got an eyelash in my eye."
Wooyoung snorts. "I say a few kind words and you turn into a complete mess."
"They are the kindest words anyone has spoken to me." San laughs quietly, wiping at his eyes a final time. "And to hear them from you... it is truly one of the happiest moments of my life."
"I'm sorry." Wooyoung says softly, pulling San's hands away from his face.
"I'm sorry too." San sighs, staring down at him with a completely enamored expression. "Moon, I missed you, Lemon. So much."
Those words were enough to completely break what was left of his resolve, and Wooyoung slumps over. He couldn't lie anymore. "I missed you too." He finally admits, looking up at San with genuine eyes. The older man stares back down at him, visibly relieved but also still filled with hesitation, as if Wooyoung would take off running the next time he so much as blinks.
The omega clears his worries by reaching up and wrapping his arms around San's neck, tucking his cheek against the alpha's broad chest, unable to hide the content grin that grows on his face. The older wastes no time in wrapping his own around Wooyoung's waist and dragging him in close until they're pressed flush against one another, burying his face into the smaller man's hair and breathing in his scent comfortingly.
"Do not ever leave me alone like that again."
Wooyoung's smile completely drops, fingers growing slack against the Prince's back, the words hitting him like a knife deep in the pit of his stomach, twisting painfully. He wills back the tears prickling the corners of his eyes, his grip on San tightening significantly as he hides away from view against the older's shoulder.
He doesn't reply.
Because he knows it's a promise he can't keep.
-
"I hate this." Wooyoung mutters.
Yeosang completely ignores his words as he drags the younger man over to the greenhouse, the sound of crunching snow beneath their boots filling the morning air.
He was luckily able to wear a simple white and black striped sweater and a pair of grey slacks with his black boots, but Yeosang had shoved one of his berets over his head, and it made Wooyoung a little self conscious of how his hair wasn't really there to distract from the poorly covered marks on his neck.
"This hat is annoying." He complains and Yeosang rolls his eyes. "Quiet."
Two guards by the entrance open the doors for them and they walk in, basking in the warmth felt away from the cold outside as they stomp the snow out pull their shoes.
They hang their cloaks nearby along with Wooyoung's satchel before walking over to the large table in the center garden on the greenhouse where the tea party was being held.
Queen Hyejin catches sight of them and immediately her face breaks out into a bright gleam. "Yeosang! Wooyoung! Come sit!"
They both bow as they arrive and when Wooyoung straightens, his eyes lock with the girl who had a personal vendetta against him from the parlor room. She glares slits at him before turning away with a grimace.
Wooyoung's brows rise in confusion as him and Yeosang began walking around the table and into their seats. "Hey Yeosang."
"Hm?"
"Who is that?"
Yeosang glances over to where Wooyoung was staring and rolls his eyes, going back to placing his napkin in his lap and Wooyoung copies him because he knows absolutely nothing about table manners.
"Kim Cho. Ring a bell?"
When Wooyoung shakes his head, Yeosang snorts. "Surprising, considering you met her father at the engagement ball. Remember Kim Beomseok?"
Wooyoung's jaw drops. "That fourth advisor geezer!?"
Yeosang nods. "She's the youngest of 8 children."
Wooyoung grimaced. Of course. Only a money grubber like an advisor could afford to have 8 children when there's families out there struggling with just two. "Makes sense now."
"Hm? Hate her even more now?"
Wooyoung shakes his head. "No," he says softly, staring at the giggling girl across from him.
"I feel pity."
Not many young omegas were as lucky as Wooyoung was to be raised in such an open minded household. More omegas in this country had it far worse than he ever has. He could only imagine what it was like growing up with a father like that. Omegas in families like that were bred to believe a certain mindset.
Cho's views were a reflection of her father, probably pushed upon her from before she was even born. Understandably, she ended up the way she was, so Wooyoung couldn't help but pity her above all else.
"Still do not understand what her problem is with me." Wooyoung muttered.
"Oh yeah, she hates your guts." Another familiar voice pipes in.
Wooyoung quickly looks up behind him to see Yunho smiling down at him with a tea pot in his hands. "Tea?"
"Yunho!" Wooyoung exclaims, watching as he pours the steaming water into his cup. "What are you doing here?"
Yunho raised an eyebrow, looking down at his uniform. "Working! Why, gonna try and steal my uniform again?"
Yeosang looks between them in confusion. "You stole his uniform?"
"It's a long story." Wooyoung waved off.
"Anyways, yes, she cannot stand you." Yunho nods towards Kim Cho as he leans against the back of Wooyoung's chair.
Wooyoung furrows his brows. "Seriously, I have not done anything that awful to her since being here for her to hate me."
"I think you misunderstood," Yunho explains. "She has hated you long before you ever arrived to this palace."
The youngest omega stares up at him in bewilderment. "What have I done!?"
"Do you realize how much your name is praised here by the royal family?" Yeosang snorts. "The Queen is completely set in adopting you— and that's if you don't marry Prince San first. Which is highly unlikely."
Wooyoung sends him glares. "That is hardly anything to hate me for."
"You really downplay the power you hold here, don't you?" Yeosang laughs. "Think about it like this. The Queen overlooks the hundreds of omegas vying for her attention day in and day out, omegas she grew up knowing, for you. An omega who lives isolated to this life. It's no rumor that she considerably wants to take your hand for the Prince, regardless of if she voices it or not. Your paintings mark walls of almost every room in this palace."
"Kim Cho has been trying to get in her good graces for years."
"But why?" Wooyoung huffs. "She's the daughter of a high advisor. It is not as if she is living terribly."
"Is it not obvious? She wants to marry Prince San." Yunho straightens. "And right now, the only thing standing in the way from such a union..."
They both look down at him.
"Well, it's you."
Wooyoung turns red, looking away quickly. "Well, I have no interest in such a union, so she has nothing to worry about."
Even he knows how awful of a lie those words sound coming out from his mouth.
Yunho snorts a laugh, walking off. "Sure, Wooyoung."
Yeosang stares at him for a moment, opening his mouth but Wooyoung quickly cuts him off, not meeting his gaze. "Let's not talk about it."
"Fine. Let's talk about what you are going to do about the Christmas Ball instead." Yeosang huffs. "Because whatever you tried pulling a week ago is not going to work this time."
That's what Wooyoung was worried about. He could not disappear during the middle of the ball like he had with the engagement. It was his last time to properly represent the Jung pack before he left, and he needed to do so in a way that made it so they had nothing to say about him long after he's gone. But he was terrified of San. This was the last big event— the main event planned for this entire trip, so there's no way he wouldn't be introduced to him as Wooyoung. There was no avoiding it.
"Oh, are we talking about the Christmas Ball!?" Queen Hyejin joins into their conversation excitedly, grinning. "It has not been formally announced yet, but I think it would be best to let you all know that we have planned a masquerade this year!"
Wooyoung and Yeosang immediately locked eyes while the rest of the table erupts with excited whispers.
"So, masks, right?" Wooyoung turns back to Queen Hyejin with wide eyes. The older omega gives him a wide smile. "Yes!" Leaning in, she also begins whispering to him. "I know that you and San got off on the wrong foot and that it may be a bit awkward to talk to each other face to face, so I was hoping this would make it easier on you both to at least get some conversation in before you leave the Capital."
Wooyoung feels a huge grin grow on his face. "That would be great! Thank you so much."
Yeosang tugs on his sleeve. "Just because he will not see your face does not mean he will not be able to recognize you. He is practically addicted to your scent."
"I'll figure it out." Wooyoung whispered back. "At least it's better than being bare faced."
If everyone will be wearing masks during the ball, then it would be easy to enjoy the last moment of his trip to the Capital without worrying about getting caught by San. He could just be himself open and freely one last time before he left, enjoy his night.
All he needs to do is figure out what to do about his scent.
-
Wooyoung finds himself walking back from the Greenhouse alone after the tea party, Yeosang being dragged off by Jongho a little earlier and the Jung didn't see much else of a reason to stay, so he excused himself.
The outside of the Castle was absolutely breathtaking. He didn't get much time to appreciate the exterior considering how he stayed indoors for most of the day. Glittering snow laid thick against the stone walls, gathering at the sills of the shinning windows.
The Castle feels a lot smaller on the inside. Being out here reminded him of just how big it really was.
Wooyoung is broken out of his aimless thoughts by the sound of shouting and fighting. Startled, he looks over to see a pair of guards going at each other while a few of them stood by and watched with amusement.
"Hey!" He shouts, watching with horror as one of them is pummeled to the ground. Stomping over he tries to grab the one above by the arm but just then the alpha shoves his arm back to land another punch, elbowing Wooyoung hard against the cheek and causing the omega to slam back against the ground.
A stinging throb grows in that area as he gets a face full of snow, groaning.
"Oh shit! You okay!?" One of the guards who had been watching exclaims, reaching out to help Wooyoung sit up. Wooyoung slaps his hands off and throws them all glares as he presses a hand against this reddened cheek.
Standing up, he pushes the two men away from each other. "What is wrong with you all!? Is this any way to resolve disputes!?"
"Mind your business, omega!" The alpha hisses, glaring at him. Wooyoung scowls. "I would if he was not already bleeding an ocean here! Are you trying to kill him!?"
"It does not concern you!" He snaps back. "Run back over to the kitchen you came from."
Wooyoung's fury boils over. "You sexist pig— how about going back into the cave that your dirty ass crawled out of and keeping those outdated, brainless, and distasteful thoughts buried in the dirt you rolled your microscopically small brain into?"
Wooyoung turns to grab his bag from the floor, but the alpha grips his wrist tightly. "You have a lot of nerve talking to me like that, little omega."
"Does it make you feel all buff and tough calling me little omega? As if it covers your obvious masculinity crisis." He snorts.
"Excuse me?"
"Did I stutter?" Wooyoung snaps, pulling at his arm but the grip stays tight. "Unhand me right at this instance."
The alpha laughs, pulling Wooyoung in close and slithering suggestive eyes up and down his body. "Hmm... you are rather lucky that you are a pretty one. How about we forget about this and go have a little fun? I might forgive you if you make it good."
Wooyoung coils inside, disgusted as he slaps the hand off. "In your fucking dreams you nasty excuse of space. Get your filthy hands off me right now!"
"Come on, sweetheart. Let me make you squeal a little." The alpha sleazes, reaching his other hand out.
"Touch me with that hand, I dare you." Wooyoung snarls, but the guard simply smirks. "Well, when you give me permission, how could I refuse?"
The hand barely grazes his ass before Wooyoung grabs it in a harsh grip, twisting under the man's arm and dragging the twisted wrist behind him as he let out a pained yelp. Wooyoung kicks the man in the back of his knees and pressing his thumb hard in the nerve between his shoulders watching as the man let out a small scream as he falls to the ground in pain.
"You bitch!" The man spat, grimacing against the snow.
"Give me your name." Wooyoung demands. "Right now."
"Gonna tell daddy on me, are you?" The man laughs, sitting up with a wince.
"You fucking bet I am. Name."
"Park Sanghoon. I am trembling in fear."
The other four guards were watching, horrified as Wooyoung grabbed his pen and notebook from the ground where his items has scattered out from his bag. He quickly wrote the name down, as well as the other four. "Have fun in the dungeons you bastard."
"Yeah right!" The alpha bursts out laughing. "As if anyone in the court will believe you."
"Sanghoon," One of the others whispered, staring with a pale face at the insignia on Wooyoung's notebook. "Be quiet."
"Um... What did you say your name was again?" Another asks carefully and Wooyoung offers a dark grin. "Why? Scared? I would be too if I just tried sexually assaulting Jung Jihoon's only Omegan child."
The laughter stops, and the name cuts through the air like a knife.
"You're Jung Wooyoung?"
"Like I said, have fun rotting in a cell for the rest of your life." Wooyoung sneers, turning sharply to the other four. "And you all. Do not think that by standing on the sidelines you have not done anything wrong, because you have. You all will be punished accordingly. Just because he is your friend does not mean you should not stop him from doing disgusting things. UNDERSTOOD!?"
"Y-Yes, sir!"
"Get the hell out of my face."
They all scramble away, and Wooyoung watches them leave with fury still burning deep in him. Just thinking about how many others they got away with because of their threats disgusts Wooyoung to the core. They probably got off with nothing more than a slap to the wrist, but that wouldn't happen this time, Wooyoung would make sure of it.
He bends down and grabs his bag, throwing it back over his shoulder while muttering furious profanities under his breath. He starts picking up the litter items that fell out of his bag, shoving them back inside aimlessly. He'd have to go back and reorganize his bag now that everything was all scattered.
He stops suddenly when his eyes land on a sleek black box.
Reaching over, he picks it up from the ground, wiping off the snow and opening it carefully.
Sat inside was the brooch he got from the town stall.
Standing up, Wooyoung closes the box again quietly, holding it against his chest.
Taking in a deep breath, he turns and continues his way into the castle and down the multiple halls until he comes across a familiar pair of doors. Pushing them open, he walks inside and shuts them behind him.
The library is just as warm and inviting as he remembered, and although he's only been gone for a few days, he's missed this place dearly.
He completely ignores the wall that brought up a lot of inappropriate things, eradicating all thoughts of that night before they could fester in his mind— instead walking over to where he could see San sitting at a table near the fireplace, hunched over a clutter of papers.
Reining in his nerves, he clears his throat. "Um, hi."
San immediately jumps out of his chair, turning with wide eyes. "H-Hello."
There's an awkward moment and before Wooyoung can flee, San walks over and wraps his arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug.
Wooyoung's tense body relaxes in his hold, bringing his arms around the older's slim waist. He guesses hugging is their thing now. Not like they never hugged before, but this just felt far different from any of the others they've shared.
"How was your day so far, Lemon?" San asks him, running a loving hand through the bottom of his hair that peeked through his hat.
Wooyoung purrs softly, nuzzling against the alpha's shoulder. "Mm. Good. How was yours?"
"A million times better now that you are here."
Wooyoung pulls back and San's grin immediately falters when his eyes pin on Wooyoung's reddened cheek. "What happened to your face!?"
Wooyoung blinks, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. "Ah, I had a bit of an altercation with some alphas—"
San immediately lets out a deep growl of warning, eyes flashing red.
Wooyoung, you idiot.
"Relax! It was just an accident—"
"An accident?" San snarls, running careful fingers over the warm skin.
Wooyoung paused. "Well, at first it was, but I already dealt with them personally, so calm down."
San glares at him. "I want their names."
"Calm down, puppy. I know how to deal with them and I will. Besides, it is not even a bruise. it will be gone before the day ends." Wooyoung snorts pulling out of San's grip and walking over to the table to peer down at the papers curiously. "What are you doing?"
San sighs, walking back towards him and slumping against his back to glance over his shoulder. "Work."
"What kind of work?"
"Letters."
"What are you doing with the letters?"
"Reading through and sorting them."
"Why?"
"Are you a child?" San laughs, leaning back.
Wooyoung pouts, turning to argue but stopping when his eyes land on the glistening metal on the Prince's suit. He fiddles with the black box in his hands. "Hey San?"
"Yes?"
"Um... The pins on your sash, are they decorative pieces or...?"
San glances down at his suit jacket, brows furrowing in confusion. "They are just medals of achievement. Things for militia work and honorary achievements from town establishments. Why?"
Wooyoung feels his mood drop, quickly hiding the box behind his back now that he feels self conscious of the stupid kid like brooch he bought. How embarrassing it would be to have a cartoon pinned next to metals of achievement.
San's eyes catch sight of Wooyoung's movements and raises a brow. "What was that?"
"Nothing." Wooyoung replies quickly. San takes a step towards him, causing Wooyoung to stumble back against the edge of the table, panicked. "It obviously was not nothing for you to be acting like this. What is in your hands right now?"
"I told you— it was nothing! You should get back to your work, San." Wooyoung pleads, grip tight on the box. San crosses his arms, staring down at him with a curious gleam. "Show me what is in your hand first."
Wooyoung whines low in his throat, giving him the best puppy eyes he can.
San cups his chin with a smirk. "As adorable as that look is, I am not falling for it. Just show me— why are you afraid?"
Wooyoung groans and holds out the box to the alpha, embarrassed. "Here. Take it."
San blinks at it, confused. "What is it?"
"A gift." Wooyoung mumbles but the other hears him clearly. San takes it with wide eyes, staring at Wooyoung's red face. "You got me a gift?"
Wooyoung nods, playing with his fingers anxiously as San opens the lid, staring down at the wolf and mountain brooch.
"I know it is not some special award or anything, but I wanted to get you something after you gave me the hairpin. Since we are friends now and I give all my friends gifts, so..."
San doesn't answer and Wooyoung has never felt more embarrassed in his life. "You do not have to wear it. I know it looks rather childish in comparison to your other metals. Just forget ab—"
"I love it."
Wooyoung turns red, looking up to see San smiling brightly at him, eyes scrunched up and dimples indenting deep in his cheeks. His heart jumps at the sight and he laughs nervously. "O-Oh. I am glad to hear that."
"Will you pin it on for me?"
Wooyoung blinks, hesitant. "But... it looks kind of stupid next to the others, does it not?"
"No." San answers immediately, his eyes piercing through Wooyoung's with sincerity. "It is my favorite. It shines far brighter than any of the others on here. I already know that seeing it first thing in the morning when getting dressed will be enough to brighten my day."
Wooyoung lowers his gaze meekly. "Bold words, my Prince."
"Pin it on." San replies, quiet. Wooyoung pulls the pin out from the case, walking up to him and meeting his gaze. "Where would you like it?"
San stares at him for a long moment, eyes never leaving his as he reaches up and points to an empty spot on the upper left side of his chest, right over his heart. "Here."
Wooyoung can feel the way his cheeks burn, unable to hide his face with his hair the way he normally would thanks to Yeosang's stupid beret. Foul play.
With nervous fingers he reaches up and pins both the wolf and mountain in place, letting his finger run gently against the cool good chain before letting his hands slide off. "There."
The Prince raises a hand to it, running gentle fingers against it as he stares at Wooyoung. "How does it look?"
Wooyoung swallows, meeting his gaze. "Cute."
San reaches over, cupping his neck softly before dipping his head close, rubbing his cheek against Wooyoung's tenderly. Wooyoung whines, nuzzling back against his cheek as their scents intertwined pleasantly.
San moves back to see a daze Wooyoung blinking up at him lazily. His fingers trail from Wooyoung's neck down to where the bruise he'd left on the omega's neck was. He presses gently against the mark on his scent gland, a twinge of satisfaction upon seeing it still there running up his spine. Wooyoung lets out another whine, rubbing his cheek against his hand, and San isn't able to control his own pleased grumble that escapes from deep in his throat.
Before things get any further out of hand like last time, the alpha steps back, going over to sit back down on his chair as he hums. "Thank you, Lemon. I will cherish this gift for as long as it allows."
Wooyoung blinks the haze out of his mind, walking over to the other end of the table with heated cheeks and burning ears. "O-Of course."
San smiles fondly at him before he turns back to the letters on the table, humming a pleasant tune to fill the space between them.
Wooyoung controls his racing heart, instead opening his bag and dumping the contents onto his side of the table to reorganize, reaching inside to see if anything got stuck. His fingers brush against a dull edge and his brows furrowed, gripping the piece of paper and pulling it out.
He stared at the notecard, freezing slightly.
"What are you doing?" San asks and a startled Wooyoung looks up at him. "O-Oh. I uh, dropped my bag earlier. I decided I might as well clean it out now." He laughs sheepishly and the Prince hums, turning back to the letters with intensity.
Wooyoung watches him for a moment to make sure he's distracted before glancing back down at the notecard.
Miss Maroonda's Omegan Necessities
Shop 47 on 8th street
Open from Sunrise to Sundown
"We have everything from the new and improved scent blocking strips, heat pills—"
"Scent blocking strips?"
"Of course! You just peel the strip, slap it over your scent glands and boom! Your scent disappears! It lasts until the solution on the strip dries up!"
Wooyoung grins to himself mischievously, pocketing the card.
He knows exactly how to get San off his back during the Christmas Ball.