Of all the things I felt dreaded to be in the presence of, this evening’s destination was by the far at the top of my list. At least, I had the promising of an approaching storm to lessen the annoyance. Mother, however, glancing towards the onyx clouds creeping towards the moon, was not at all pleased, and I knew she would have a fit if my dress were to be ruined in any way.

“Honestly now, child. Keep up! Are you trying to get soaked by the rain?”

I let a sigh slip from my nose. “No, Mother.”

To my dismay, she continued.

“All that hard work the seamstresses put into that gown, and all the money I spent just to obtain it. If even so much as a droplet touches it, I’ll have no choice but to shield you away from the host until another date. Surely, you don’t want that on the day of your debut. Imagine it, to miss such a divine opportunity as this.”

 

I was sick of hearing that word. Debut. Debut. Debut. Ever since the month prior to my eighteenth birthday, she had been shoving that word down the throats of all who approached her; my own, most of all. And while I didn’t necessarily mind the idea of flaunting a womanly demeanor by means of appropriate dress, I practically disdained the idea of Mother’s intentions. For the party we had been invited to that special evening was not hosted by just any old nobleman, but instead, the wealthiest and most generously sought after in nearly all of London. Lord Min Jun Ki. A foreigner from South Korea whom every lady dreamed of and every man envied, and it was for every bit of fortune he had in his pockets rather than a handsome face. Which was why my Mother was so feverishly determined to dress me like some prized pig. To her, it would seem fated that only I catch his eye with good impression, and that in a matter of weeks, or even days, he himself would deem a suitor to me. That of which she gave me another scold, telling me to smooth down my dress for the fifth time as our heels meandered further to grass trimmed so perfectly, I felt guilty to step on it. That is how I knew we had arrived, and it only took another minute to carry ourselves up the steps, past the awaiting doorman, and into the abode of the targeted Earl.

 

 

Now, here I could admit that I immediately took a fancy to it. As the exterior resembled any other splendid manor, the interior surprised anyone with almost hundreds of exotic souvenirs and decorations; trinkets and talismans from all over the world, and I dare say that had to have been the main attraction to the guests thus far. The guests gliding and parading about in cotton, fine silks, and lace, with jewels and pearls, fine fragrances, glasses of wine, sherry, and gin. I had only heard mentions, or caught mere glimpses of occasions when I had the chance. Yet, now I had become fully aware that I was in the midst of this true adult world, and in an instant, I felt rather small. Diminutive. Unworthy to have my presence be known in such a new environment, surrounded by so many faces, and–

"Ah, Lord Junki. It is of the highest pleasure to finally greet you. Our family was positively thrilled to receive your invitation. Especially my daughter here."

Snapping me from my fearful trance, Mother's hand on my arm and the honey sweet tone of my name secretly dripping in warning prompted me to curtsy with reddening cheeks. "Yes, of course, Lord Junki. It was a pleasure, indeed, and we're very grateful." I offered him a forced smile of courtesy, letting my eyes fasten once again to the man I was supposedly destined to espouse.

 

At the age of twenty-four—only six years my senior—Lord Junki was a bit of a meaty, barrel-chested man who stood at a height several inches above me. Dressed in a hugging waistcoat of evergreens, his large hand extended to mine and took hold, raising the satin glove to his lips for a respectful kiss. As he rightened himself, however, I saw his eyes shift ever so swiftly. From my bodice first, traveling upwards. Pausing at my bosom in a way all too bold for hardly a second, and it was preposterous that Mother hadn't noticed as he met my eyes again. His lips curled into a smile. "As am I."

If this was how men were supposed to behave, I wanted no part of it. The sickening ert. But, I was helpless, for the cream-colored dress of silk Mother had had tailored to me had been cut significantly low around the chest to my ultimate discomfort.

 

"Junki!"

 

A call made his head turn, perking up to spot a familiar face somewhere in the crowd. "Forgive me, ladies. I'm afraid I must be moving on. I hope you'll sport a glass of wine and remain merry until you depart."

Mother breathed an entertained chuckle. "All in moderation, of course."

The lord only smiled, dipping his head in leave. "Right, right. Well then, I shall be going," he offered, letting his eyes linger on my own for a moment more before turning.

As he left, I didn't even have to look at Mother's face to know that she was radiating with pride. "Well done. At this rate, I'm certain you'll have a suitor in no time."

 

For my own sake, I held my tongue, letting my eyes drift about the room in indignation. I could spot a select few of my friends making simple conversation on the far side of the wall, chaperones at constant watch. My own chaperone was running a little late, which is why Mother remained by me for now. However, once I had managed to lose her to her group of girlfriends, I made way to my own for a moment of stability.

"Well, well. If it isn't the Queen of Hearts herself."

Their eyes were teasing, rosy lips curled in coy grins, and again, my cheeks began to burn in confusion. "Beg your pardon?"

"Oh, don't play dumb. Everyone's seen you," the closest, Noelle, smugly provoked, swirling sherry round her glass.

 

Noelle was a pretty, little maiden with one half filled with flirtatious sass and the other of fiery passion. Sporting hazel eyes and long, ginger curls; combined with a curvaceous figure, quite a handful of men had their eyes on her already. And if not, they would tonight once spying her slimming, white dress adorned in sequins.

"Lord Junki eyed you as if you were his last meal, and you can't deny it." She held up a finger to silence interrupting shock, making a pout. "You're very lucky, you know. Almost all of London's ladies want him as their own, but he fancies you clear as day."

I couldn't help but fidget with my gloves. "I don't see how. Besides, the only reason why women want him is for his money."

"Don't forget his breathtaking features." Julia, the blue-eyed, short-cut blonde with the face of a fairy and a dress of sky blue, raised her glass in statement while the other hand busied itself fanning. "He's much better looking than these pale, snobby excuses for bachelors. Wouldn't you agree?"

"I certainly would," Noelle gave a nod, to which I made a doubtful face and she responded with a mien of astonishment. "You don't find him attractive?"

I winced. "He's not... awful, just–"

"Good Lord, woman! How bizarre must you be? Half of London fancies him, but, he fancies you, and you think nothing of him."

 

I opened my mouth to speak, but was interrupted again, this time, by Julia.

 

"It's all those books she's been reading, Noelle. Making her fantasies of all those dashing, young knights and romantic scoundrels an internal obsession. Twisting her perspective of reality."

"Untrue, and you know it," I scowled, cheeks the color of wilted roses.

"Careful not to catch too much of a temper, girl, or your approaching knight will think you're the dragon he's meant to slay."

 

Anxiety took over. "Approaching?" I turned my head, and sure enough, Lord Junki was parting the crowd with eyes focused on me and me alone. I felt my heart sink with dread. "Oh, no."

 

"There you are," the lord announced, beaming proudly as he drew near.

"L-Lord Junki!"

"I was disappointed our meeting got cut short so soon. I didn't even get the chance to finish."

 

Out of the corners of my eyes, I could see the others grinning in victory. I fought to resist glaring, keeping a tight smile to my lips. "Well, you may finish now, if you'd like."

"Certainly. I wanted to ask if you'd be comfortable accompanying me to dance."

'Absolutely not.'

"I'd be happy to."

 

My hand reached to fall into his, feeling the coarseness of his skin through the satin of my glove, and as he led me away, I shot a dirty look behind me. Those two would surely get an earful when this was over.

 

The ballroom was already occupied by over a dozen couples already engaged in a waltz. Mostly husbands and their wives; scarcely an unmarried woman and her would-be suitor, much like myself. All of which made me more nervous than I had ever been, feeling eyes root themselves to my skin, unspoken questions digging into my spine. And along with those harassing questions came his hand, pressing itself at the base of my back and sending up a freezing shiver as he urged me closer towards him. Needless to say, my face was long past the shade of blood, and I could only pray that Mother was too occupied with her friends and not concerned with my whereabouts any longer.

Yet, it seemed my prayers went unanswered, for the precise moment we turned in our dance, I saw her eager eyes wide in utmost joy, and a winning smile.

Curses.

But, I couldn't display an expression of terror now; not with majority of the guests' faces aimed in our direction. Wondering just who this blessed maiden was that Lord Junki had singled out to dance with. Eyeing my perfections whilst anticipating even the slightest of flaws. For now, I was trapped with no means of escaping until it was all over. For now, I'd just have to it up and pray that all of Mother's impeccable mannerisms would instill themselves within me until those eyes turned their attention elsewhere.

 

So, I brightened my smile to everyone's misfortune, synchronizing myself to his steps and to the music. Staring into those soulless eyes holding fast to something I only could describe as triumph. Anew, I couldn't see why. Not even as he leaned his face towards me, lips barely skimming the skin of my earlobe, heated breaths forming words whispered inside.

"I'm very honored, once again, for your acceptance."

'It wasn't like I had a choice,' I muttered inwardly, batting my long lashes. "Oh, Lord Junki. I couldn't possibly turn you down. A handsome man, such as yourself. Any other woman on the day of her debut would be thrilled, I'm sure."

He cocked a brow, showing a flattered smile. "What high praise. I'm grateful to hear it, especially from you. Which brings me to my next... statement, I suppose. I do hope this doesn't discomfort you."

 

More dismay welled inside my chest, and he leaned forward again.

"Your Mother has taken liberty upon herself to convince me that you are... eligible. And, being with you, finally, in this manner, I fear I'd be lying if I said she didn't do a decent job.

"Of course, I don't wish to rush things so soon," he chuckled. "That would be a scandal in itself. However, if I may be a bit bold" –his hand suddenly gave my hips a push, inching us too close together for comfort and putting us at a high risk for misconduct if anyone were to see– "I want to see you again." His eyes were terrifying, darkened by man's most common sin. Voice lowered to a husky purr. It disgusted me well enough to where had I only had half a brain, I would've pulled away in an instant. I fought to keep my limbs still, resisting the urge to run from this erted beast.

I almost couldn't speak for a moment under his watchful, predatory eyes, lips parted with no sound to accompany. I tried again, keeping my voice as steady as I could. "You're...too kind, Lord Junki–"

"Drop the Lord title for now."

"Junki...I would love to give you a proper answer, but, I fear I'm unable. Perhaps, I've had a bit too much to drink. And all this remarkable spinning has made me dizzy. May I suggest consulting with my mother? I'm sure she would answer much better on my behalf."

 

It was a horrible decision. Truthfully, I hadn't consumed even a sip of sherry, but I needed something, anything, to get away from him now.

 

As if on cue, the music finally reached its end, coming to an abrupt stop. Our steps faltered at the sound of the audience clapping, and only we remained still.

There was a flash of disappointment in his eyes, concealed underneath what might have been concern. "Shall I assist you, then? I wouldn't want you passing out."

"No, no. I'll be fine."

"Really. If you're unwell, I can help you." He refused to let go of my hand, staring earnestly, lowering his voice. "You can rest in my quarters. I wouldn't mind... No one would know about it, either."

By God, how revolting. Never had I met a man so indecent! Did he really believe he would spend his night philandering with me, here in the midst of all these people?

 

Fear combined with anger, and I managed to tug myself free, hiding my hands behind me. "I assure you, I'm quite alright. Besides, Mother would catch a fit if I stowed from sight, even for a second."

He opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off intentionally with a racing tongue. "I've troubled you enough already. Please, dear Lord, have faith I'll be well with just a night's rest. Perchance, we should meet again tomorrow. Once again, thank you kindly for your offer, but, I fear I must hurry and sit before I become worse. Good night, Lord Junki."

 

I gave a simple curtsy and my heel, most grateful to see that he had gotten the message and wasn't trailing after me or calling my name. Very much grateful indeed to finally ditch him for hopefully the rest of the night, just as the band began their next play.

 

 

Mother would undoubtedly kill me. I was sure of that. I was also sure of my premeditations to finally have that glass of sherry, taking my leave through the harrowing crowd. Rude or not, I needed to get away. Away from that repulsive beast, away from Mother, away from everything and everyone, just so I could breathe for even a second.

 

I met the double doors a short while later, slipping out to where no one would see, praying that no one would notice this insolent girl's absence away from her chaperone and escorts.

 

I had to admit, amongst my terrible desires, I was nervous to go. For wandering fears whispered in the back of my mind, making me afraid to face Mother again once she knew I hadn't been courting with Lord Junki as intended. Although, the moment thunder crooned crisply within my ears, those fears and doubts melted away instantaneously.

With my back against the door, I ogled over what lie before me. And underneath the alcove, safe from the storm with glass in hand, I beheld and hearkened attentively. First taking a long sip to further quieten those pestering voices, tuning my ears to the rain alone to drown them out.

 

The soothingly deafening pitter-patter of droplets showered the dark world in kisses of invigoration, and while I could not see it so clearly, I could imagine it with absolute clarity, being a lover of storms at heart.

The cement strengthening from hues of midday clouds to train smoke. Blossoms jolting on impact. Branches swaying in the summery winds, and each drop of silver forming rippling mosaics in nearby puddles.

The air laced in perfumes of richened earth to which I inhaled deeply, taking in those dulcet aromas as the heavens released their troupe of tiny dancers. And I found myself so immersed within my self-inflicted paradise that the moving shadow to my right would have skipped my attention had I not looked to the side. Alarm seized my limbs for half a second, and I whirled in growing fright, almost spilling the remnants of my drink on my dress in the process. Standing beside me was a man who had seemed to come from the shadows themselves, staring at me not in a way that pled hungry, but rather, curiosity. And in my case, probably judgement.

 

He hadn’t appeared to have been disturbed by my panic. In fact, he didn’t even speak. Both of which prompted me to quickly compose myself.

In those night-colored eyes, in those brief seconds, I had seen something. More like, I had felt something. Like the first two pieces of a puzzle coming together.

He and I, away from the celebration inside, away from the chaos and merrymakers. He and I, in the fragments of our safe havens. We each had the same purpose for being out here instead of in there.

And although we had refused to acknowledge each other, I caught myself sneaking mere glimpses towards him.

 

He must have been a servant, at least. Maybe, Junki had requested that he have some familiarity in his home for a change, and hired him. He slouched in his posture, looking all too comfortable in his place leaning against the wall. Straight hair interrupted by stray ringlets. As for his dress, there was nothing flashy about it. It wasn’t an expensive suit, by any means. However, I didn’t think it suited him. His face was far too–dare I say it–good looking for poor quality. A lunar complexion, fair plumpness to his cheeks, cat-like eyes, small lips. But, unlike Junki, I could deem this handsome. And I wondered just how a servant could catch my gaze so swiftly when the Earl himself proved unworthy.

One other thing that caught me off guard was the fact he smoked, a cigar planted in between his lips. I personally detested the act for means of health, and by the looks of it, he didn’t seem to be putting it away as was expected of any gentleman. Perhaps, he didn’t know.

 

I cleared my throat, shifting my eyes towards him. He didn’t respond. I tried again. This time, I caught a flicker of shifting attention, taking my chance. “If I may, sir, I believe smoking in the presence of ladies is considered rude.”

He remained silent, first furrowing his brows, then eyeing the poison in his mouth. I feared I had made a mistake, seeking to resolve. “Ah, not that you have to remove it around me! But, when a lady is near, you shouldn’t smoke,” I exclaimed quickly, unable to shake my habit of rapid blinking under pressure.

He proceeded to remove it, holding it between his index and thumb. “Well, you are a lady, are you not?”

It was a voice of a perfect throwing stone. Smooth, a little rough around the edges with husk. And deep. Not as an ocean, but it was pleasant, and heavily accented.

He discarded himself of the cigar , and by his expression, I could tell he hadn’t liked doing so. It made me feel a little guilty.

“I am still…getting used to life here. I have only been here for a week, I think.”

“And Earl Junki supplies you well?”

 

He didn’t seem to understand. “Supplies?”

“Meaning, he gives you what you need. Treats you as a decent servant?”

“Servant?” His lips began to twist into a smile, and hardly a laugh escaped him. “I am not my brother’s servant.”

 

Brother?!

 

“I didn’t know he had a brother.”

“I am sure he never mentions me. He believes that I will, how you say, taint his status.”

 

Had he been involved in scandals? Was he dangerous?

 

“He just doesn’t like that I am the opposite of him. I cannot be the gentleman he pushes me to be.”

“He forces you to act a certain way,” I chimed in, suddenly finding semblance.

He nodded. “It is difficult. Very difficult. I would have stayed in Korea if I had known it would be this hard.”

“If I could move anywhere else, I would. I’ve lived here my entire life, and I still feel out of place,” I admitted.

“You?” He raised a brow, glancing me over in surprise. “What are you saying? You belong in there. You belong here.”

“Well, then, if I belong here, then you belong here.”

A chuckle bubbled in his chest. “I do not think so. But, maybe, you are right. Maybe, we both belong here. Maybe, they are the outcasts, and we are the nobles.”

 

The thunder concealed my laughter. “I must say that I am in agreement with you, erhm…” I faltered. I didn’t even know his name, and here I was talking with him as if he were an old friend. “Forgive me, but, your name?”

“Yoongi. Min Yoongi.” He took pleasure in bowing his head to me. “And, yours?”

I introduced myself, and he repeated. Never had I found someone saying it to be so comforting.

“It was very nice to meet someone like me. Perhaps, you will encourage me to stay a little longer.” Yoongi turned to gaze at the storm again, heaving a deep breath. “And this.” He gestured out into the open. “I am glad to see the storms are just as good as they are in Korea. At least, during raining season.”

“Oh, of course. I used to always sit in the window of my attic whenever a storm began. That way, I could hear the rain beat against the roof. The thunder would shake the floors, and sometimes, the lightning felt too close, but I loved it,” I breathed, reminiscing the many nights as a little girl dashing up the attic steps when I should have been in bed. Mother or Father would soon discover me moments later, coming up with a candle or staying put at the base of the stairs. Father would gently coax me downstairs, or if I was already curled up on the floor fast asleep, he would carry me to bed. Mother would always give me a good chide, and she’d make me march down to bed herself. While I loved her dearly, that woman had never once fully shown me an inch of sympathy.

 

I turned to him in that moment, finding his eyes fixated on me alone, and I stumbled immediately. “Ah, forgive me for rambling.”

“Not at all. I am the same. Back in my home, I liked to walk in them. 엄마 hated it. But, I could not help it. It was so…” He paused, as if searching for the right word, becoming immersed in thought. “What was that word,” he mumbled under his breath. “영어로 어떻게 말합니까?”

“Beautiful?” I tried, having been blessed with various language tutors. One of which was Korean after Mother had become acquainted with Lord Junki.

“I wanted to use something more. Something greater.”

“Breathtaking?”

 

Yoongi perked up immediately, nodding vigorously for a second. “Yes! Br-… breathtaking,” he stammered slowly, perfecting it nonetheless as he looked to me again. In an instant, lightning cracked the skies in two, illuminating everything in its path, us included. And I finally saw him much more clearly. Rather, I saw something new.

In his eyes, as the lightning split the seas of ink, reflected the act like a cat's pupils constricting in the midst of feeling threatened. Instead, I saw intensity. Powerful admiration and passion. A surge, it appeared without being visible, coursing through every vein and fiber, as it did for me when I witnessed the elysian hellfire of perfect storms. He was a pluvophile. A lover of rain. A ceraunophile. A lover of storms and lightning, especially at their starkest of states. He would find no fault in standing outside on the highest peak, with the wind whipping about the matted strands plastered to his head, and the coarse droplets streaming like miniature rivers down every curve and slope of his skin. In short, this supposed house cat seemed to have transformed into an exotic black panther. A majestic creature that beamed potency and could leave its onlooker near dazzled. To say, I found myself mesmerized with the belief a character had risen from the ink-scented pages of my books. And I found it all too good to be true.

But, alas, my trembling heart quietened itself as the spell became broken by speech.

 

"Why are you really out here, though?" He asked this with question, and a minimal head tilt. "I know, to get away from the crowd. However... I do not mean to pry, but, you seemed...troubled by something."

At first, I debated on answering honestly. After all, matter concerned his older brother. I couldn't be disrespectful.

 

I cleared my throat, planning on sugarcoating this as much as possible. "Well,"–I found myself fidgeting with my gloves again–"my mother is arranging for me to get married. And she..." Discomfort was bubbling within my chest already. "She feels that I am most suitable for the Earl. That is, your brother."

Yoongi didn't say anything. His brows began to crease again, expressing a look cross between confusion and something else I couldn't quite put my finger on.

I decided to continue. "I just... I don't know. It's not that he's a bad man or anything. He's wealthy, he's generous, and he's a fine gentleman. And tonight, I found he agrees with Mother's desires."

At that exact moment, it was as if a spark had lit up inside of his head. His eyes widened, being struck with some sort of rapid comprehension. "Wait. Are you...? You are the one my brother has been talking about!"

It was a sudden call. One that left me a little wide-eyed as well. Yet, almost instantly, he seemed to come to terms with something else, all excitement draining. "Oh... You're going to marry my brother."

Maybe, it was because of the darkness that I could not see his face clearly. But, I thought I saw a light flicker and die within his eyes. I could hear his voice becoming dull.

"That is what they want, yes."

 

He became...quiet, all of a sudden. A second passed. Then, another. Three more.

"Then, you should be in there, should you not?" He finally spoke again. "I am sure he will be looking for you."

 

But, I didn't want to leave. I didn't want to go back in there. Not now. Not ever. Not for him.

I lowered my head, falling into silence as well. When I did regain my voice, I hadn't meant for it to waver. "I can't marry him."

I raised my head, gave it a shake. "I'm deeply sorry. But, I can't. I don't want to. If I marry, I want it to be for love. For true companionship and understanding... I don't love him."

 

Once more, I received stillness as an answer.

 

"Why do you apologize?"

The question nearly baffled me. To disclose such news already was a crime in itself. To a sibling would be ten times worse.

"If you do not love him, it is fine. You should have a choice in who you want to love, because that is what I believe. I believe that love is the greatest and first thing that needs to be at the base of marriage." He hesitated. "Besides, my brother is not as good as everyone thinks. Trust me. While he was born more... successful, I believe that I was born with more... decency. Respect. You know, I have seen how he treats some ladies. He is a little rude."

I remembered Junki's eyes traveling my body to places they shouldn't have lingered, immediately shuddering in disgust.

"He is also quite...boastful. He has too much pride. I guess that is why I am a little more content with the wealth that I have. I heard too much wealth is bad, mentally. You become self-indulgent."

"That depends." I knew it did. He still had a point though. "However, he does appear to be the prideful type."

Yoongi released a heavy sigh. "And still, many ladies say that he is such a gentleman."

I refused to hold back a snort. "Oh, please. You are more a gentleman than your brother ever will be. You're truly kind, you're patient, you're understanding. Far more handsome than he is, that's for sure—"

 

Had I not seen the look on his face, I probably would've continued blabbering. He blinked once or twice. And at that precise moment, the heavens unleashed another bolt of lightning, bringing light to his cheeks that I was incredibly surprised to see had tinted a faint shade of pink.

I stumbled over my words, hardly able to speak them at all as heat flooded to my own cheeks. "Erhm, that is to say... I–" Oh, what was the use? I offered an apologetic upturn on my lips, feeling utmost flustered and very much like an idiot. How in God's name was I supposed to recover from this?

Yoongi ended up responding to that for me, emitting a delicious chortle while casting his gaze elsewhere. "That is a first. I... Thank you. You are... certainly much more beautiful than any lady I have met." His voice seemed to dwindle in sound, becoming quieter and quieter by the minute as he hid his face, but the smile that I realized mimicked my own was evident. "If I can be honest," he added swiftly after.

 

I had to be honest, too. I had been called beautiful more than once. Plenty of times to count. Yet, to hear him use that term with me arose a fluttering in my chest, a bit of haziness in my mind igniting an elation too grand to properly describe. In short, I was utterly charmed. Maybe, a little more than I should have been, but, charmed, nonetheless. And it was in that instant that I came to the conclusion that I may or may not have developed.... a bit of liking to this Min Yoongi. We were alike in more ways than one, I'm sure, but I felt that we could complement each other, as well. He was handsome, a true gentleman still in the process of learning the ropes, but even I felt that he would soon become a natural. I felt that we could become acquainted as good friends. Get to know each other better. And maybe, just maybe, see what the future held in store for the two of us...

But, then, I remembered. Lord Junki. If we were to marry, the chances of ever being able to converse again were severely slim. More than they were already. And somewhere along my sorrowful thoughts, I felt like he knew.

 

Yoongi gave me a smile. However, this one held disappointment. Or was it pain? "You should probably head back inside. I'm sure... they are looking for you."

I didn't want him to be right. I wished anything for him to lie and say that I had all the time in the world to just talk to him. To express the terrors, the guilt, the jokes, and happiness that made me who I was as this current, young woman I had morphed into. But, sadly, he was right.

I had to go.

I tried my best to lighten my face, but I was lame in doing so. I imagined we had matched expressions for a second time. And because I had nothing left to say, I merely nodded my head in understanding, turning for the door.

"I am sure we will meet again," he commented behind me.

 

With my hand on the knob, pausing to enter, I turned towards him. If we met again, it would be too late. "I hope so... Well, good night, Yoongi." I curtsied to him, forcing myself to try again at leaving, when he stopped me once more.

"Ah, wait."

 

The moment I faced him again, I felt a hand take hold of my glove. It had the warmest touch, the gentlest hold, and it raised my hand up slowly to brush upon lips more delicate than butterfly wings.

When he lowered it, all traces of his smile had completely vanished. "I'm sorry. I am afraid I will not have another chance to do that again, and I am delaying you. Please, continue." He stepped back, never lifting his eyes from the pavement beneath us as he gestured to the door I had no choice but to open.

 

I didn't say a word. If I did, I feared the worst would happen.

 

And the sounds of the party were deafening.

 

The lighting was too bright.

 

But, gathering my skirts, lifting my head, I retreated back into the puppeteer's lair, feeling the strings wrap themselves around my limbs. And I didn't look back as I closed the door behind me.