Irene wakes up to a comforting warmth and the smell of something aromatic and sweet. That was odd. Usually, Irene would wake up abruptly to a harsh voice or something unpleasant. And most likely with some sort of pain in her body. Irene slowly opens her eyes, regaining her senses and getting her foggy mind up and running again. She wrinkles her nose, only to feel something smooth and soft brush against it and the fragrant smell drafts up her nose again. Irene’s eyes are still bleary, but as soon as they clear, she’s utterly confused. Then, she realizes what she’s seeing. Irene slowly begins to trail her eyes up. First, she sees the prominent contour of a collarbone, followed by the smooth slope of a neck, then to a finely shaped jawline, and finally, Seulong - Seulong’s sleeping face. Irene’s cheeks immediately color as she realizes the position they’re in. Seulong has his arm around her waist, keeping her close, and their legs are tangled underneath the blanket. Irene’s head is underneath Seulong’s chin, and she’s face-to-face with Seulong’s neck. This is the first time Irene’s been in a situation like this. She feels safe and comforted. This moment feels right for some reason, and this is the first time Irene doesn’t want something to end.

    Seulong shifts and lets out a husky groan as he wraps around her tighter, and Irene’s suddenly left with a minimal amount of oxygen in her lungs. He’s not hurting her though, and Irene actually likes it. But, as always, the moment ends, and Irene’s stirred awake from her false sense of security at the husky sound of Seulong’s voice that still somehow manages to sound effortless and somewhat smooth.

    “Irene?”

    “Y-Yes?” And suddenly, Irene feels a wave of heat coming from Seulong. She hears Seulong clear his throat before she can picture the sheepish lopsided smile on his face.

    “Uhm, good morning.” Irene finally brings up the courage to look up, and she sees Seulong looking down at her with the crooked smile that she knew he would have on.

    “Good morning,” she says tentatively, avoiding his gaze. Irene regrets it, because the next thing she knows, the heat and the comfort she had been feeling moments before is gone. And she feels cold and vulnerable once more. She gets up from the middle of the bed and sits down at the other end instead, mirroring Seulong.

    “I-I’m sorry about that. I didn’t know.” Irene bites her lip. She wants to say that she liked it. She wants to ask him to hug her again. But she can’t. So she chooses a safer route instead.

    “It’s okay.” An awkward silence fills up the large room, and Irene nervously reaches up to the space just below her collarbone and traces the tattoo over her clothes that she knows is there. The tattoo that she despises, the tattoo that physically shows that she belongs to the king. When Irene realizes that Seulong is staring, she quickly drops her hand back down to her lap.

    “I’ve been meaning to ask you this, but is Irene your real name?” Irene freezes up, and then slowly meets Seulong’s curious eyes before looking away and speaking.

    “N-No.” Irene can almost feel Seulong’s confused gaze piercing through her. And Irene braces herself for the question she knows will come at her.

    “Then what’s your real name?” Seulong sounds tentative - almost apologetic - and Irene can’t help the rush of warmth that spreads through her body, because one wouldn’t sound like how Seulong sounds now if he didn’t care for her.

    “Joohyun. Bae Joohyun.”

    “Bae Joohyun.” Irene’s surprised to hear the hint of a smile in Seulong’s voice and the warmth as he says it, and Irene looks up to lock eyes with Seulong. “I like it. Can I call you that instead?”

    “Yes.” The word’s out of before Irene can realize it, and she blinks a few times while her brain catches up. “I mean, yes. If you want to.” Irene turns red at Seulong’s teasing smile, and she nearly whines when he chuckles. Irene unconsciously begins to take note of the musician’s appearance. His hair is still in a bun like from the night before, but it’s messy now - loose strands coming out here and there. His clothes are also rumpled, and one pale, bare shoulder is showing. Irene still can’t get over how feminine Seulong looks - both in body and face - and she’s continues observing him, not noticing the man’s heated face as she does so. She only snaps out of it when Seulong frantically pulls up his clothes to cover his shoulder, and speaks with stuttering words.

    “Uhm, Joohyun? A-Are you okay?” Irene finally looks up, and realizes her mistake. She can feel her face turning the same color as Seulong’s, and she gets up from the bed, still blushing furiously.

    “Y-Yes. Yes, I-I’m fine. I’ll just go wash up and report to the king. I’ll be back.” Irene hurriedly bows and rushes out of the room, her face still burning. That was bad. She was bad. She shouldn’t be doing that.

~~

    Seulgi bites her lip, still blinking in confusion at the door that Irene - Joohyun - had just pretty much ran out of. Joohyun had been checking her out. It had been obvious. Seulgi can’t stop the blush that’s still coloring her face, but then, she smiles. She’s starting to get more information out of Joohyun, and she’s enjoying it. But then that little voice in her head’s shooting out warning signals, and Seulgi knows why. She shouldn’t be getting so close to Joohyun - so close to anyone, really - because Seulgi’s learned that getting close to people only leads to her pain - her loss. That’s the reason why Seulgi moves around so much - the reason why she chose to be a musician - she’s afraid of getting close to people. After her whole family all left her in one moment, Seulgi’s been traumatized. Who wouldn’t be? Losing one’s whole family in the matter of minutes would destroy anyone. Seulgi shakes her head roughly. Such negative thoughts - especially in the morning -  wouldn’t do anyone good.

    “Seulong, would you like to go on walk with me in my gardens? They are beautiful in this time of year.” Seulgi feels a pang of doubt pierce through her. Would her leg hold up throughout a whole walk? But Seulgi knows she has no choice but to do so, and she smiles at the king.

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