Your lips upon mine...

"Mount your steeds," Kai called furiously, bringing his horse to the center courtyard of the barren kingdom. The snow billowing in with the winds wrapped around their fair heads, blanketing their dark armour with a light shade of white that seemed so heavenly and serene, in comparison to the darkened eyes of the royal Queen's vassals. The six of them lounged around the fountain for one last lingering moment before strutting over to the larger front gates, where they were welcomed warmly by the door gaurds.

They bowed their heads, drifting off into the blizzard-run towns, one following another closely as they trailed their ways across the snowy tracks. The haze of white stalled them immensely, halting their expectations by a large notch. However, that didn't run down the spirits of the determined knights. "We have to retrieve our sacred Queen from the evil opponents!" Baekhyun voiced loudly, drawing more motivation into their men. "She was lured into a trap and captured by His Majesty Lu Han, along with her trusty secretary Ho Dong! We have to retrieve them and bring them back safe and sound! We must bring them home and return them to their native lands, where they can continue to restore the peace and prosperity of our country!"

A loud wail of dogmatic cries rung out about the atmosphere, unperterbed by the harsh cold. They saddled their way through, exiting their regime with heavy hearts and determined eyes; their ears were stinging red, as were their cheeks but their souls were warm for the love of Byul, hearts itching to see her return to restore the calamity that has struck their Korean province. During her absence, there had been plunder and massacres against the Korean province -- all attacks from the Japanese samurais that were in search of loot and treasures from the New World, the situation in which they still had not yet found the technology to establish ships to use to travel themselves.

The months were long and harsh, fierce against the population of the merchants and peasants; and despite the fact that the vassals, knights, and mercenaries had fought with all their might, the gunpowder that the Japanese had purchased from the China men had far more advantages than the traditional swords and blades the Korean men had wielded in battle.

They needed their Queen.

And they needed her now, and by all means, as long as it was up to her Round Table of Knights, she was going to return one way or another.

"Tell me a story, Byul-ah."

The younger blonde turned her head so she faced Lu Han; a curious gleamed rung behind her irises, giving them a benevolent mischief that utterly captivated Lu Han. "A story?" she echoed softly, twirling a lock of hair with her finger. She hummed, smoothing out the silky seams of her night gown, pulling her her feet to lay her chin upon her knees; she looked back down at Lu Han with a sheepish smile, watching him sprawl himself comfortably across the bed.

"What kind of story do you want?" she inquired. "How about one that my dad always used to tell me?"
And like a child, Lu Han sat up, mimicking Byul's position as he nodded contently. "That would be interesting."
Byul smiled tenderly, averting her gaze to the spot behind Lu Han's head; her mind wandered slightly, travelling into an abyss of nostalgic reminiscense as her memories swiveled around her minds. Words formed sentences and sentences formed phrases, and soon, her tongue was executing the story expertly, drawing Lu Han in with the very first introduction phrase.

| The young prince rode across the city, past the knolls at the north end of his realm, and stood next to a large stone wall that marked the edge of his kingdom. He would spend entire afternoons -and sometimes even evenings- throwing rocks over this wall, even though the wall would be too tall for him to see where the stones would land. He would heave them as far as possible, and then listen silently for a "thump" as the rock hit the ground. |

She smiled almost nostalgically, replaying her father's husky voice in her head as she narrated the medieval Korean fable to Lu Han. As she continued, she felt his strong pair of warm arms snake around her waist, pulling her affectionately into the crevice of his firm chest. He nose lingered behind her ear, in the delectable scent of the herbal soap she had borrowed from Lu Han; and he figured that it smelled even better on her, than him.

| And one day, an old vagabond approached him and said, "This land was made for commoners and kings, not us."
The prince turned to him and argued, "You're either one or the other."
The old man laughed breathlessly and replied, in a very hoarse, raspy croak, "If that were true, young Prince, we wouldn't be looking for a home right now." He took the rock from the prince's hand and sent it soaring over the wall, and it flew, as if the heavens pulled it from this Earth. The prince stared in shock, stood still as a tree, and listened. |

He began to lay soft, butterly kisses across her exposed neck, causing her to giggle slightly during her distracted narration. She shoved him lightly, only to be drawn back into his grasp with a low chuckle, the sweet melodious sound euphoniously ringing through her ears as she finally concluded her enigmatic tale.

| Amidst the piercing silence, he listened, and he listened, and listened; and to his bemused bewilderment, the young prince never heard the thump. "How did you do that?" But when he turned to the vagabond, his amazement quickly diminished into disappointment. The old wanderer was gone. The prince, then, mounted his trusty steer, and rode back to his castle that evening, and vowed that one day, he would escape these walls.. and find that stone. |

Lu Han made a face. "I don't get the story."

"You're just too stupid," Byul joked softly, pressing her slender finger to his forehead. He simply chuckled in response, moving his head to grasp her hands lovingly; he laid gentle kisses against the outline of her palm, courageously locking eyes with her as he did so. Shivers ran up his spine as he continued to glance into her black orbs, feeling the onyx colour read into his soul the longer he maintained the intimate exchange. His lips, amidst his dark reverie, had found its way to her jawline somehow, seeing as how he was now hovering over her, laying against the bed as she writhed slightly with pending excitement.

Her kisses were warmer, more sensual than usual, and it made her skin crawl with electrifying tingles. "You're mine," he told her gently, pressing his forehead to hers. 
"I'm your dirty little secret, that's what I am," she retorted humorlessly wiith a bitter expression. "That's what you mean by I'm yours, isn't it?"

He was about to object vehemently, ready to scold her, chide her, chastise her for thinking such undermining thoughts about herself, but his scrutiny and dismay never reached words or coherent sentences. Before he could even continue, a loud ruckus occurred in the lower regions of his kingdom, loud and obnoxious enough for the sound to travel up the countless flights or stairs. Lu Han glanced worriedly at Byul, pulling on her peasants costume just in case, and tucking away her extravagant into a secret box he kept beneath his bed -- where the rest of her royally tailored clothing lay.

He his lips nervously, standing before Byul with his arms wrapped around her.

"What's going on?" she demanded breathlessly; her eyes flickered back and forth from their position to the door. "We could get caught --"
"We won't," Lu Han grunted, handing her a towel and a pair of his shoes. "Just act as if you're polishing them, they won't --"

"We come for Her Majesty Byul! We demand her location now!"

Byul's head snapped up from the awe-strikingly familiar voice. She knew that roaring, booming voice anyways; there was only one person in her memory that possessed such a low, bass-like timbre. And that was Park Chanyeol, one of her most trustworthy, loyal knights of her holy Round Table.
Looking up at Lu Han, she shook her head with guilt, "I didn't call for them, I swear," she whispered. "I didn't even know --"
Lu Han shook his head, gripping his head with an infuriated expression crawling upon his doe-like features. "It's not your fault," he whispered, grasping her cheeks furiously. There was apprehension leaking into his words as a melancholy expression waltzed onto his drained visage.

There was a sickly pallor crawling onto his exterior as his insides boiled with brewing worry and anxiousness. "I can't lose you," he declared bravely.
"But I can't let you hurt my men! --"
"I only ask for you, you can hurt my men all you want, I won't care; all I need is you! --"
"You can't say that, Lu Han," Byul pleaded him. "You have to --"

Lu Han didn't even give her the chance to finish; the loud echoes of his servant's cries drew nearer, and the first instinct that rushed him to react was the take her in his arms and give her the longest, most passionate, yet gentlest kiss he could muster. In that one exchange, all he had grown to feel for Byul was channeled into her -- love, tenderness, affection, lust; he couldn't bear it. He grasped at the small of her back, slightly clawing at her flesh with disparity as desperation seeped into his internal system, inflaming his rush of adrenaline vehemently.

He pulled back, panting slightly, lips gleaming with the remaining traces of saliva. 

The pounding on his door ensued, and the locks were about to burst. 

"No," Lu Han whispered, gingerly tracing Byul's tear-ridden cheeks with his thumbs.

The bolts rolled to the ground.
The hinges were next to follow, bursting onto the matted grounds with shaking apprehension.

He kissed her one last time. "I love you."
She nodded, grasping his hair furiously as she heatedly returned his sinful kiss. Her lips tingled as it always did, even after she pulled away. There was a jolt of adrenaline that suddenly flowed through her blood stream, constricting her heart with anxious winds of fear and sorrow; all their kisses -- so electrifying and jolting; so heated and lustrous, yet so tender and affectionate.

It was as sinful to lay a kiss upon Lu Han's lips as it was to lay a kiss upon Satan's lips.

She knew that.

But she risked it anyways, over and over again. And she was going risk one more thing: the three wretched, sinful, skull-binding words. And the most she could make of her voice was nothing but a hushed whisper only audible to her expectantly awaiting [secret] lover.

"I love you, t --"

And Lu Han was pushed away, ripped from Byul as Kai took a strong hold of him, pressing him up against the wall with a blade to the latter's neck. Byul pulled him back instinctively, and authoritorical feat in her voice as she ordered him to stop before he committed something he would later regret; the young vassal obediently followed her pending instructions, casting her away in his warm, distant grasp -- one that differed so unanimously from Lu Han's, that it brought goosebumps to emerge from her cold skin.

She cast Lu Han one look, one apologetic, heart-wrenching look of guilt (one that promised him that they shall meet again) before turning back to escape the pillaged kingdom... But not before catching the devastation that had managed to break his emotionless facade.

Just at the memory, she shivered -- and she knew it wasn't from the cold of the snow.

Lu Han just might be able to grasp her story now.

She was his stone.

And he had to find her, one way or another. And to himself, he promised:

"I will find you, Byul."

...feels just so tantalizing.