He wakes up when the sun’s rays are seeping through the windows and the curtains, filling the room with a faint glow of yellow; When the birds outside are chirping a merry tune; When it is early morning, just like the usual.

But unlike the usual, muffled sounds from outside of his room could be heard and so he slowly stirs awake in bed, lost in sheets of pure cotton.

Sitting up ever so slowly, he grunts, and rubs his eyes with the base of his palm, trying to get rid of the sleep that’s still eating him. In a few moments he turns to dangle his legs off of the bed, eyes still half-closed as his feet aimlessly search the carpeted floor for his slippers. Finally being able to slip them on, he drags his body up to stand and stretches in the air, a smile on his still-sleepy face.

It is finally summer.

Summer in Beijing usually starts off with slightly chilly mornings filled with gentle breezes and the sun hidden by the clouds. Afternoons are cloudless yet still have the wind kissing skin. Nights are shorter than the days, but during the beginning of the season, nights are cool and comfortable.

Lu Han steps out of his room in his red pinstripe pajamas, hair tousled and eyes slightly smaller from sleep. The hallways are, of course, empty, but walking on to rest his hand on the staircase’s rail, he could see some staff in the mansion working frantically, carrying all sorts of sheets and chinaware and whatnot.

He doesn’t hurry going to the dining area, where the elders are probably waiting for him. When he arrives, murmuring a polite hello, he takes his usual seat adjacent to Song Qian’s, where Song Qian is seated and already halfway through her breakfast, looking slightly distressed but nonetheless excited at the moment.

“Remember to be nice to the king and queen,” One of the elderly advisers, more like their grandmother than an adviser, reminds them. “Especially to their youngest son. I heard he’s hard to please.”

Song Qian’s eyes glimmer when she smiles into her cup of tea. “I always like a challenge, Xuedi.”

“Be nice too, Lu Han.” The other elder, Xuerong, says.

Lu Han shrugs and pokes the yellow of his egg with his knife. “I’ll try to stay out of their way.”

The first day of this particular season marks the day when South Korea’s most influential family— the Royalty themselves— arrives in China, with their sons having to stay for the whole two and a half months. The reasons were building bonds between the countries, and... well,  secretly the king and queen want their eldest to get married to Song Qian, the princess of China, in order to firmly establish said bonds.

 Song Qian beams at Lu Han. “This is going to be the best summer ever, dear cousin!”

Lu Han only chuckles and nods.

Despite not being the one who’s supposed to be involved with Korea’s royalty, Lu Han finds himself being dressed by the official stylist in a casual (but expensive) blood red dress shirt and white pants, along with black shoes. “Why,” he deadpans, but doesn’t really press on with the issue.

The elders have informed that the Royal family is arriving any time soon, as their private plane has already landed in China. At this, Lu Han decides to be out of sight, going outside to the big garden behind the mansion to play soccer by himself.

“You’ll get yourself dirty,” Xuerong reprimands him, looking at him as she stood in the balcony.

Lu Han only nods, playing around with the soccer ball, choosing to concentrate on it only.

After a while, he decides to kick it in a random direction, and uh oh, he might have kicked it pretty hard, because the next thing he knows is someone is shouting in a foreign language and there is a commotion going on.

“Oh my god!” Lu Han runs over to the quite big crowd of helpers and royalty to see who he hit.

On the grass, with a large pale hand pressed to his jaw, is someone with shiny dark brown hair, looking down  and writhing a bit in pain. He’s wearing a quite dashing suit—but the dazzling white of his dress shirt is ruined by dirt from the soccer ball that is now lying innocently next to his legs.

Lu Han gasps and kneels down, trying to get a look at the other’s face by placing an idle hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, I—“ Wide brown eyes get even wider when the person lifts his head up to look back at him, gaze unfaltering.

He has never seen someone so beautiful before.

Unbeknownst to him, the other thinks the same thing.

i tried keeping it short and mysterious as possible ok ;3; just for this one.