The hallways were haunted with her scent, her face, her voice. It didn’t matter where Jihoon went. He wasn’t even safe in his own bedroom. Her memory was everywhere, stamped in like an eternal nightmare. Everything was a haunting reminder of a childhood that should never have come to pass.

But as he barrelled down a hallway to his appointment, he stopped short. He avoided this hallway. The south one, that came out on the courtyard. It was raining outside.

It was as if it was just yesterday. He could still see the baby-blue dress his mother had worn that day. It was raining, just like today, with thick cloud cover.

“Jihoon. You’re not welcome in my house. You’re not welcome in my family. If you leave, you had better make it so that I never have to see you again.”

“Yes, mother.”

“Jihoon. One more thing.” She didn’t even look at him. “I’m not your mother. I have never been your mother. The mother of an omega. Who would want to mother such a creature? Never call me by that name again.”

“…yes, your majesty.”

Jihoon had to pause at the memory, so eerily poignant. He took a moment to catch raindrops in his hand. That was the day he had left the palace to pursue a normal life.

Then he took a deep breath, drove the sentiment down into his gut and kept walking down the hallway until he burst into the room.

Hayi jumped up to go to his side. “You, sir, are late,” she smiled, taking his arm immediately. “Poor Amy got scared you wouldn’t show up.”

One interview. With one major news broadcasting channel. After that, Jihoon could go back to normalcy.

Jihoon put his arm around the little Princess’ waist. “Sorry, Hayi.”

“That’s okay.” The Princess beamed, leaning in to her fiancé. “I told her you wouldn’t stand me up like that. Come, come sit down!”

She really is an excellent actress, Jihoon thought, allowing himself to be dragged to the sofa. If she hadn’t been born royal, she would have made Hollywood.

Jihoon shook a cold hand with their interviewer Amy and then sat down on the sofa, his arm around Hayi’s shoulders.

The questions were very cliché: how was their first meeting, how did they get along, when did Jihoon decide to propose? All of that.

Jihoon could only stay an hour in front of the camera before business took the Prince elsewhere – a.k.a. he couldn’t handle it anymore. He dropped a chaste kiss on Hayi’s temple and exited the room quickly.

It seems as if both Amy and the entire camera crew took a sigh of genuine relief when the Dark Prince left. “Good God, is he always so… intensely cold?”

Hayi tilted her head, frowning slightly. “Who? Jihoon? Was he very cold? What you just saw was downright pleasant.” She had been asked to keep the dream of a disagreeable Prince alive. “Don’t worry about it, though. He won’t show up again.”

“So, how does it feel? Being engaged to somebody so… angry all the time?”

Hayi’s expression seemed to melt into a more pleasant, thoughtful, soft look. “To be honest, Jihoon is one of the kindest and most accepting young gentlemen on the face of the earth. He’s understanding to a fault, and he wouldn’t harm a fly. Sure, he has a temper on him, but if you look at him – if you really look closely – you’ll see how genuinely good he really is.

The interviewer was very impressed. “Wow. Sounds like true love.”

Hayi laughed a little. “I don’t really believe in stuff like true love. But… I suppose I do love Jihoon very much. A very true love. And he loves me the same way. He’s had a hard childhood, so it makes him… well. Either way, he’s my best friend in the world now.”

Amy smiled sweetly. “That’s so sweet – that you can be best friends and lovers.”

“Yeah.”

“…what’s it like, being engaged to an omega?”

“Madame,” one of the PR officers murmured from the side-lines. “That question is inappropriate.”

“Ah, sorry. Of course. Forgive me, your Highness.” Amy blushed. “Then… may we see the ring?”

Jeonghan’s eyes were empty. As empty as Jihoon’s were – but at least Jihoon was trying. He still got up every morning, showered, changed his clothes. Walked and spoke. Jeonghan had simply given up entirely.

Jihoon simply sat there near his bed, smoothing his thumb pad over his cheek. It had been two weeks already, since Joshua had died. A week since Seungcheol had left him. If Jeonghan didn’t snap out of it soon…

“He used to do that.”

It was the first time Jeonghan had spoken at a normal level before; Jihoon only paused his fingers for a moment. “Hmm?”

“He used to do that. On my face. He knew it comforted me. When we shared a room, back when we were younger, he’d always wake up first and do that. He loved me, you know. More than anybody else in the whole world ever loved anybody. He loved me so much. And I loved him back. But I don’t think I ever showed it properly.” The Prince was beyond crying, now; the words just fell from his mouth in a quiet tone. “And now the only person I could ever count on is gone. How am I supposed to function without him? What am I going to do?”

Jeonghan looked up at his little broth