In this moment all I can do is stand still. Nothing but the sound of my own heartbeat in my ears, the drop of a quill and a scraping of a chair. In this moment I feel my stomach churn as my words hang through the air. I made a mistake.

Before I could stop myself, an onslaught of memories come to the forefront of my mind. I could remember that time in sixth grade where I got my friend to do my homework for me. English-- we had to write an essay about some book I never got around to reading. Not like I could have anyway. It was a time where I didn't understand consequences and thought it was harmless to lie. That was the first time I got in trouble at school. Caught red handed. 

I could remember that time when I was fifteen where I broke dads favourite vinyl. His vintage Beatles, cracking painfully like the look on his face. That was the first time I realised I disappointed him.

The common denominator in each situation felt so familiar in this moment now. The looks on their faces that let me know I was stupid. That I made mistake. The familiar emotions then-- the familiar feeling of guilt,  anxiety, regret, and fear that swam through my being... They come back to me. Only this time, ten times stronger.

Yves' breath hitches through the quiet.

Yves stares at me blankly, her lips parted as if her soul left her body. Her face washed over a deathly pale as my words ring through the silence. Time around us seems to still, the world blurring away from my vision. All I can do is focus on her. Focus on her wide eyes as they glisten under candle glow, searching my face in mute shock. And then she slowly rises from her seat. She keeps her body close to the table as if waiting for me to jump at her, to attack her, to show my true colours. But then she moves so quickly I don't even see it coming.

I'm barely given enough time to register what happened before I feel her body run at mine. My back falls so it roughly collides with the bed beneath me, an 'ooft!' escaping my lips. Yves presses one of her ring cladded hands on my chest and pushes me down, the other unsheathing a dagger at her waist. She raises the dagger up to my face and presses its sharp tip against my chin, just grazing. I look down at the dagger, then at the hand on my chest, and finally back up at her.

She stands by my legs, leering over my body with a scowl tearing across her face.

"You what?!" 

I could only begin to imagine what was on her mind right now.  She continues when I stay silent, the dagger pressing the slightest bit closer.

"I have protected you! Defied my parents for you!"  Her voice rises with each second. "And now you are telling me you have met with her?! She is trying to kill us all!" 

By the end of her sentence her eyes have completely darkened, her face inching closer and closer to mine by the second. I practically feel her hot breath on my skin as she seethes, and my body instantly stiffens. I shake my head and stammer.

"I-it's not like that!"

She scoffs a laugh void of any humour. In any other situation I would've turned into a blushing mess at the position we were in now. The warmth of her body radiates off of her, encasing me as she keeps me pinned down. With a further push, the dagger now draws blood. Ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of my own blood trailing down my neck, I keep my eyes locked on hers as they search mine accusingly. 

"We are going to war with her, Y/N." My name in never sounded so different. She seethes it as if it burned her tongue. "I trusted you."

Trust.

Something about that single word had me short-circuiting. That same godforsaken emotion I had been seeking since the moment I woke up. I flinch back at the deep unfamiliar rumble in her chest and shake my head aggressively.

"If you'd just let me explain!"

She falters. For just the briefest of seconds the blade to my chin weakens, just slightly dropping. For a moment she opens and closes as she digs around for her words. Then for the nth time in the past five minutes, she catches me by surprise.

She takes the dagger away completely. She sheathes it back into the pocket at her waist, but she doesn't retract her other hand from my chest. I could feel the warmth of her palm on my skin through my shirt, but I will myself to ignore it for now. Her lips tug into a frown, defeated.

"Then explain. Please. Please give me a reason to believe you are on our side. Give me a reason to not do my duty as the princess and turn you in to be questioned. Give me a reason to not regret choosing my heart over my head when I am alone later. Please."

I didn't know what to say. A silence passes between us as her words hang through the air. It's in this moment now as she stands over me, defeat clear on her face, do I realise just how far we'd come in such short time. Just a few days ago we couldn't breathe the same air. Couldn't look each other in the eye for longer than two seconds. If this moment happened all those days ago, there was no doubt in my mind she would have acted differently. Wouldn't have let me explain, would have kept that dagger close enough to draw deeper, would have let her father and Jungkook exile me as they pleased.

But now... now she stands over me with an oddly familiar look in her eyes. It felt like I'd seen it before. Like I'd been here before.

She continues.

"I was birthed to be loyal to my father and the throne, but yet here I am. Giving you a chance to explain yourself before I am forced to do something that would hurt us both."

When her hand presses harder into my chest, I knew she was finished. I had to be honest. I wanted to be honest. I dig around for my words before settling with a sigh.

"I don't know how she did it, but she was in my room yesterday. When you walked me back from the war room. She was waiting for me." 

My voice came out soft and unsure amongst the silence, but she heard me loud and clear. Her reaction is instant. She falters, the weight of her hand on my chest slowly ceasing as her eyebrows furrow together. A look of pure concern takes over her face before she's shaking her head.

"No, that is impossible... She could not have possibly been here and entered the gates unseen-"

This time I'm shaking my head, cutting her off. 

"N-no, you're not understanding. It's like she was a-- a ghost or something. A hologram. She was there but she wasn't at the same time..." I trail off, trying to make sense of what I saw. Now that I was retelling the story I realised how crazy it sounded. "She didn't want to fight. She just wanted to talk."

I didn't know what to say. Being there in the moment with Jennie messed with my head so painfully, leaving me a puddle of confusion. But now that I was reliving it, now that I was telling Yves, the confusion only doubles.  Her face twists into a scowl once more but somehow I knew it wasn't directed at me.

"What did she want?" 

I hesitate. I didn't know. I didn't know what her intentions were, why she was giving me information. I stammer, shaking my head once more.

"-... I don't know. She said she wanted to help me, to see for myself who I should be trusting. She said she would give me answers."

I never took myself as a particularly dishonest person. I always tried my best to be honest, to be true to myself and to my thoughts. But even I knew this was the most genuine moment I'd had in a long time. The most truthful, the most sincere. I wasn't sure what it was about Yves that made me trust her in a heartbeat, that made me want to confess my secrets. Maybe it was a fear of what she would think. A fear of disappointing her. Of being disowned by her.

I shake my head to rid myself of my thoughts. Now I was just being silly.

But sure enough, Yves seems to read my mind. For a moment we just stare at each other, a clear conflict consuming her. But then she backs away, giving me space to sit back up again. And I knew. I knew in the way she looked at me now, in the way she sighs and nods.

She still trusted me. 

A long sigh tears from the back of as she looks down at her lap. 

"That is why you spoke to her. All you wanted was answers and you feel they are being kept from you here."

Surprised, I search for her eyes. How did she know? How did she take the words right out of my mouth?

I stammer again.

"How... how do you know?"

"Because I have been in your shoes before. Albeit not with her." Her words fall from her lips softer this time, so soft I almost didn't recognise her as the same girl from only moments before; knife to my face and all. But then it's like a flip switches and the same realisation dawns on her. She shakes her head.

"Or perhaps I am thinking wishfully, hoping that there is reason behind your actions I can understand. Perhaps I really am foolish after all. Believing your words so easy even when my mind tells me not to."

I knew she was talking to herself rather than to me, but questions still form on the tip of my tongue anyway. I furrow my eyebrows and lean a little closer. She doesn't back down from where she stood by my legs, and it's then I noticed she practically stood in between them. Pushing the thought aside for now, I tilt my head confused. 

All this talk about her choosing her heart over her head...

I tried to ignore it. Tried chalking it up as her expressing herself the only way she knew how. Maybe it was platonic? Not everything had to be romantic. 

But my chest was telling me otherwise.

"Why do you keep saying that? That you're choosing your heart over your head?"

This time she really does look at me. Her warm browns lock onto mine, practically staring into my soul. A mix of emotions cross her face but defeat stays as clear as ever. She sighs.

"Please, Y/N, do not act so stupid. You and I both know that if you were another soul I would have had you punished instantly. No explaining. No nothing." She bites her lip as if judging her next words, and then she's caving. "You make me question whether my loyalties lie where they should be-- where I wish they were as the princess of Eden. It all feels so strange but I could have sworn I have known you all my life. A distant face." She pauses. Her words linger through the air, those same familiar phrases. "Do you feel it too?"

My eyes stay transfixed on hers. She almost looks like she's having some kind of internal battle, unsure whether to voice the concerns that had been on her mind. And by the end of her sentence, she just freezes. She freezes and waits for me to answer, agitation radiating off of her. Hopeful.

I don't waste a breath.

"Yes."

It almost feels like the air feels clearer. Like the moment it falls from my lips in a hushed whisper, every trace of agitation leaves her. Like she felt relieved.

But then reality catches back up to us. She clears and backs away. Stepping away from her place between my legs, she walks back towards the table she sat at only moments ago. She leans forward on her palms and breathes, sighing deeply. All I can do is watch after her.

Every moment we've had so far, every time we've stood so close and aired our thoughts... it felt right. It felt familiar-- she felt familiar. It felt like I was missing something I never knew I had.

She cuts me from my thoughts when she turns back around, her face hardening once more. I couldn't believe I almost forgot what we were here for. 

Our previous conversation soon feels like a distant memory as she gets back to the task at hand, but the fluttering in my chest doesn't leave.

"I know that maybe I am making a mistake. I know that I am sacrificing so much just by not turning you in. I know that if this choice turns to be the wrong one, I must live with the consequences for the rest of my life. Maybe I should stay true to my teachings and agree that trust does not co