“What are you doing over there, luv?” Sehun asks in his signature, y half-asleep voice. It’s tender and quiet with just the right amount of huskiness.

    I’m not quite awake but I want to jump him again. “I don’t know,” I reply loosely.

    He props himself on his side, and my eyes drift to the delicious amount of golden abs peeking from my comforter. The cocky bastard sees that I’m staring and shifts the comforter lower, showing his annoyingly beautiful v-line.

    I roll my eyes and chuck my eraser at him, nailing him in the forehead. Sehun rubs his forehead, frowning childishly. “I’m being productive for once. You’re distracting me.”

    He squints his eyes, trying to analyze my sketchbook. After a full minute, he gives up and flops back down, burying himself under the sheets. “Don’t wake me up.”

    I snort humorously, shaking my head.

    An hour later, he pulls himself out of bed and hovers behind me.

    “Morning, sleeping beauty,” I drone, distracted with the final touches—mostly shading and detail work.

    Sehun hums pleasantly, kissing the side of my head. “How long was I out?”

    “I don’t know. I lost track of time,” I answer, finally meeting his eyes. I must look dazed. When I was still in high school, Dad told me that I would lock myself in my room for days, and I’d only come out if my piece was done. He said that if he hadn’t known better, he would’ve thought that I was high.

    Of course, the sketch had been just a sketch. I wanted to paint it. But, nonetheless, I’d turned my head to look at him because I had to. Sehun had the power to draw you in.

    Maybe it was his warmth or his natural attribution of being the biggest star in the room. And once you meet his eyes, it’s like you’re looking at something bigger than yourself.

    But he never once makes you feel like you’re any less.

    Sehun tilts his head, kissing me slowly and delicately. When he pulls apart and we’re a hair’s breadth away, he whispers, “I’m so lucky, don’t you think?”

[28]

    When I’m in the middle of creating art, I often project what I feel. Dad says it’s like I’m in a trance, and no matter how much you call me—you won’t reach me.

    Sehun’s never seen me in my trance. I just haven’t had time to do anything above light sketching. Between the time that I work at Chanyeol’s bar and hang out with Sehun, I have no time.

    In almost a blink of an eye, my grades slip. I get a letter from the dean, and if I can’t pull up my grades by finals, I’ll be forced into probation.

    I was with Sehun, and I obviously didn’t want him to worry about me. With everything that’s been going on, I didn’t want to be an emotional girlfriend.

    Sometimes, he’s such a great boyfriend that I want to dump all my emotional vomit on him. But I can’t. I shouldn’t.

    So, I shove that letter in the back of my backpack and call it a day. The thing is—no matter how much I attempt to forget about it—to convince myself that I’ll be okay. That in some magical way, I’ll be able to pull my grades up.

    As I walk beside him, I can feel the weights bearing down on me. I try not to meet his eyes. Does it ever occur to him that I’ll never be enough? That maybe all of this was for nothing.

    Maybe we’ll break up in a couple of years, and I’ll be a distant memory.

    I bite my bottom lip to keep it from trembling. Nothing terrifies me more than this thought. The idea that I’ll lose Sehun. The Sehun that is my boyfriend, and the Sehun that is my best friend.

    “You okay, luv? You’re unusually quiet,” Sehun announces, stopping briefly to tilt his head toward me.

    My hands feel clammy in his. I want to pull away. I don’t want him to know. Feigning a smile, I shake my head. “It’s been a long day.”

    His eyebrows sink, dipping in concern as he reaches to cup my face. “Are you sick somewhere?”

    My heart warms over the block of ice in the middle of my chest. I think I might love him after all. “No, stupid. I just need a little nap. Can you walk me back to my room?”

    Sehun snorts. “There’s no reason for you to ask that, luv. That’s my job.”

    Fred is lingering behind us somewhere. “I think that’s why Fred hates me,” I grumble.

    My boyfriend laughs heartily, swinging his closest arm over my shoulder and pulling me into him. We continue to walk. “He doesn’t hate you. He’s thankful.”

    I never understood why Fred would be grateful, but I didn’t want to ask. The answer seemed so simple, yet I couldn’t figure it out.

    When we get to my door, Sehun leans to kiss me. I turn away, letting his kiss fall on my cheek. He frowns a little, grabbing my arm before I leave.

    “I think there’s something you’re not telling me, and it’s starting to make me upset,” he begins cautiously.

    I try to smile. “I already told you the reason, Sehun.” That was my first mistake. I called him by his name.

    Sehun narrows his eyes at me. “But you’re lying. I don’t like dishonest people. You know that.”

    “Goodbye, Sehun,” I stress, mental exhaustion closing on me.

    He releases me. “Fine. I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he grunts, and then, he’s gone.

    I don’t stay in my room because there’s too much of him in there. His t-shirts strewn everywhere. On the corner of my bed. On my desk chair.

    My room smells like him. It makes me miss him. And it makes me regret how I’ve acted toward him tonight.

    My eyes fall on the graphite sketch of him. In it, he’s smiling. Grinning so widely that I’d been afraid he’d lock his jaw. His eyes are full of light, and he has smile lines. Frankly, it wasn’t much of a special day, but I had my camera with me.

    It was a Thursday. I’d just finished my first class, and he was in front of my lecture room, talking amongst a crowd.

    Then, he spots me, and I remember the feeling. A rush of warmth. It felt like the first time all over again. The night that I met him in front of the art studio.

    My heart was racing with adrenaline as I took the pictures. Sehun shared a strange look in my direction and continued to bother me about what I was doing.

    I never told him. In fact, I hung up the sketch yesterday after I came home from work.

    When I left my room, I found myself in the basement in front of the art studio, clutching the sketch of him in my hand.

    There’s no one down here tonight. I’d reckon it was empty because it was a Friday. I grab an old canvas in the storage room. There was already a painting on it, but each of us made a deal. When we had a project that we gave up on, we would drop it in the storage room. Someone could pick it up and use it whenever we wanted.

    I paint over it with an off-white, and then, I lay out my sketch. I mix paints, and then I’m carefully dragging a big brush over his skin. I add shadows and details.

    I’m far from being done when I stop. I drop my brush onto the workbench. It rattles, echoing in the empty room.

    I feel lost and empty and cold. I find my warning letter and rip it to shreds, but I don’t feel better. I just feel all the more crappy.

    What the hell was I doing? Hypothetically, even if I’d gotten this art degree that I fought so hard to get—would I even get a job?

    How would I make a living?

    Was this all for naught? Was I happy? I begin to question my relationship with Sehun. Was he serious about us? After he graduated, would he go back to the UK and eventually become king?

    The door opens, and I hear my name. But it sounds distant—like I’m underwater.

    My head feels heavy when I try to turn it. “Hey, hey—“ The voice grows closer until it’s right in front of me.

    Sehun? What’s he doing here? What time is it?

    “Luv, can you hear me?”

    I nod, confused as to why he looks so panicked.

    “Brilliant—bloody hell, I need you to breath. Follow my breathing.”

    I copy his breathing, and my head becomes clearer. “What are you doing here?” I ask meekly.

    Sehun cups my cheeks in both of his hands. “I didn’t like the way we’d left things, so I came back, but you weren’t there. I was worried, but I figured that maybe you picked up a shift. I stopped by to check on you, but Chanyeol said he hadn’t seen you all day. Then, you missed your first class, and I just lost my head. Fred and I ran around campus, looking for you. So—so here we are.”

    “I’m sorry—I didn’t know,” I apologize, continuing to avoid his eyes. I felt ashamed.

    “No, don’t apologize. I’m glad I found you. You were turning purple.”

    My anxiety doesn’t go away. It’s still there, balled up in the farthest corner. “I’m sorry.”

    His eyebrows knit together, and he kneels beside me. “No more lying. I want to know what’s going on.”

    “I’m failing my classes,” I answer, my shame growing bigger and bigger in size.

    He sighs softly. “That’s—luv, I can help you fix that.”

    “But I don’t want that,” I protest.

    Sehun looks hurt. “Then what do you want? How can I make it better?”

    “You can’t make it better. All of this is me. I’m the problem—“

    “But you’re not a problem, and this sounds a lot like you’re dumping me. I am not letting this end. Not like this.”

    “I’m—what exactly am I to you?”

    He blinks in confusion. “My girlfriend…I thought we established this?”

    “I’m your college girlfriend. Nobody knows about us. You’re meant for bigger things. I’m just some stupid girl pursuing a stupid degree. There’s no stability. You know that.”

    Sehun drops his hands. “No, I don’t know. I don’t know what you mean by stupid. You’re the most brilliant person I know—you’re bloody ing marvelous. I love you, okay? There’s no question in that.”

    “Love isn’t always permanent. It’s temporary.”

    He scoffs. “Bull. That’s complete bullocks. Tell me, luv—what we were before we dated?”

    “Friends,” I answer with uncertainty.

    “Best friends,” he corrects. “I fell in love with you not simply because you’re breathtaking. It’s because you understand me. Even if you think we won’t last, it’s not a sure thing that I’ll find someone like you again. You know that.”

    “S,” I murmur, feeling my eyes water.

    Sehun breaks into a relieved smile. “There you are,” he whispers.

    “I’m sorry. I was just scared. Everything was too much, and I couldn’t handle it. So, I ran away and—“

    “We all run away sometimes. I run from Fred all the time,” he comments, running his fingers through my knotted hair.

    I laugh, feeling a million times better. “I love you, too.”

    Sehun grins toothily. “I can see that.” He points to the painting behind us. “That’s me, innit?”

    I grimace, trying to cover it with my hands. “It’s not—that’s not—“ I give up with a frustrated sigh.

    There’s tenderness in his expression as he looks me over. “I appreciate the appreciation, but my nose isn’t that big.”

    “You’re right—it should be bigger,” I quip, grabbing one of my detailed brush. Then, I swipe it right over his nose. He yelps, leaping back, but it’s too late. I’ve already painted an obnoxious brown color on his nose. “You’re so much more handsome now,” I observe, grinning mischievously.

    Sehun dips his hand in my paint, swirling it, and makes an attempt to get it on me. He does. My left shoulder is covered with yellow paint. His whole palm imprint is on my shoulder.

    I stand abruptly, grabbing the squeeze bottle of acrylic and squirt it in his direction. It gets on the entire front of his clothes.

    The door barges open, and in comes Fred with a wild look in his eyes. He must’ve thought we were trying to kill each other or something.

    Once he sees the mess, he makes a beeline for the door.

    Sehun and I share an amused look as we burst out laughing. I approach him, letting him pull me into his chest. He covers me with paint, but I don’t care.

    Our fight feels silly now. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Don’t ever doubt that,” Sehun whispers before pulling me into a kiss. My hands fly to his neck, tightening around it.

    “I’m really scared of losing you, S,” I confess meekly.

    He tsks, proceeding to smile lopsidedly. “You’d have to get rid of me first, luv."

[29]

    Dating a prince was easier than I thought. But maybe it’s because he’s pretty eccentric. When I was little, Dad read to me many princess bedtime stories, but the princes always seemed so overbearing.

    Was I the only one who hated the Disney adaptation of princess stories? Why did Snow White and Cinderella have to be saved by the princes?

    My mother was always very independent. She ruled her own world, and my dad was a nice option. There was no doubt that they were in love—my dad, more so than her.

    The more I got to know Sehun, the more I grew attached to him. He didn’t try any patriarchal bull. Between us, I was never seen as the pretty trophy wife.

    But this didn’t mean that he didn’t have any problems. Whenever Fred came with a phone call from the King and Queen, Sehun always looked grim.

    I wouldn’t have known the difference if you didn’t tell me that his parents were still alive.

    “Do you ever get overwhelmed by your position?” I ask one night as we’re cuddling in my bed.

    There’s a shadow that casts over his eyes. He thinks that no one can tell, but from watching him incessantly, I’ve learned to watch for it.

    “There will always be a part of me who wishes he came from a normal family. I always ask myself what it’s like to not be abandoned by my paternal parents.”

    I tighten my arm around his waist. “Do you ever get angry when you think about them?”

    Sehun remains silent for a long beat. I’d assumed that the question had been too personal, so I shouldn’t have asked. But he surprises me by answering. “No, luv. I don’t think it’s wise of me to complain about the position I’m in. There are many jealous blokes who would say otherwise, but I wouldn’t want to wish this on anyone either.”

    I prop an elbow up to meet his eyes. “No one asks to be born a certain way. It’s up to you to make the best out of it. But I believe in you, S. Every choice you make should be yours, whether it be a good or bad one.”

    His smile is unrestrained. It’s like seeing a rainbow after a heavy shower. It’s expected, but the feeling you get yourself is unlike anything.

    I crawl on top of him, and he closes the gap. I groan, feeling him push up into me. Then, he murmurs a heartfelt thank you. But it feels more than a simple thanks. He makes me feel like he’s grateful for my entire being.

    And it makes everything worth it.

    [30]

“I’m not sure this is such a good idea,” I interject.

    My boyfriend ignores this and continues to rattle on about how he’d like to win a million dollars.

    Sooyoung laughs at my deadpan reaction to being ignored. “You can’t stop him now. He’s on a roll.”

    Chanyeol sets down some glasses of beer. “I think it’s an excellent idea. I could probably use a mini-vacation.” Then, he flashes Sooyoung a dimpled smile.

    I could practically see her heart eyes. She’s been telling me that my boss is ‘effing hot’ ever since I introduced them.

    “Yeah, we could all use a little fun. Vegas is perfect, isn’t it?” Sooyoung adds slyly, nudging my shoulders.

    I sigh, rinsing out glasses in the little sink. “Sehun’s not really good with alcohol. I’m not excited about the prospect of babysitting, but—“

    Sehun sulks. “You make me sound like a teenager.” He’s probably just emasculated by how manly Chanyeol is.

    I heard Chanyeol won all of the local liquor competitions before he opened up this bar. I pat my boyfriend’s back gently, knowing he’ll be immature for a hot minute.

    “So, it’s just the four of us? That’s the itinerary?” I ask, eyeing them all.

[31]

“It would’ve been fantastic if you’d told me ahead of time that your sister owns this ing hotel,” I snap.

    Sehun shrugs, “well, she owns the chain, but currently, she’s stationed here for now.”

    I open my mouth to argue, but he cuts me off with a gentle squeeze on my shoulder.

    “What are you so worried about?” He asks.

    “What if she doesn’t like me?”

    He snorts. “Well, she’s always been a pesky , so—“

    “That’s not something you say about your older sister, kiddo.” I watch as my boyfriend chokes for air when his neck is sandwiched between two arms.

    My mouth is open when I stare at Sehun, attempting to flip the latter onto her backside.

    His sister is shorter than him, but she’s extremely gorgeous—almost intimidatingly so. She finally releases him, giving him a little shove.

    He grunts, glaring at her with menacing eyes.

    “Hi, I’m Irene. You must be this brat’s girlfriend,” she chirps, sticking out a hand.

    I grab her hand to shake it and jolt when she pulls me into a hug. “H-hi?”

    Sehun pries Irene off of me as he complains, “you’ll drive her away like all the others. She’s my favorite, so please behave.”

    Irene and I exchange exasperated looks. “Can someone please take out the pedestal from under him?” She comments offhandedly. “Anyway! Welcome, guys. I take pride in my businesses, and I’m so glad you guys chose this place.”

    Chanyeol chuckles, “nice to meet you too.”

    I’d forgotten that Sooyoung and Chanyeol were still here. She peeks out from behind his back. I narrow my eyes at this development.

    “Yeah, yeah! Enjoy your stay. Don’t drink until you’re dead, but please, have fun.”

    I wake up with a ty headache and mind you, I haven’t felt like this since my freshman year when Sooyoung dragged me to a frat party.

    I would spare you from the details, but I’m pretty sure nothing could be worse than the night I danced drunk and half- on a dining table.

    Well, this certainly beautiful morning was not so beautiful.

    “I think I would be better off dead,” I groan aloud, hunching over because the urge to vomit everywhere is overtaking me.

    I can feel someone stir beside me. It is none other than my boyfriend who is just as hungover as me.

    “I—“ Sehun tries to speak, but as soon as he opens his mouth, he’s retching. I fight my headache, springing up to drag him into the bathroom.

    As he vomits, I rub his back, trying to not empty my stomach contents as well. Sehun grips the tank of the toilet with his right hand weakly as if this is the only thing that’s keeping him from face-planting in the bowl of chunky vomit.

    That’s when something catches my eyes. I stare at the item glistening on his ring finger.

    A gold band.

    “You have a ring,” I announce, scrutinizing it.

    Sehun’s eyes are dazed as he tries to register my words. He squints, head falling forward a little bit. “Huh?” He comments offhandedly. “You’re right. Why do I have a ring?”

    I nervously scratch my chin.

    Then, his eyes widen as he focuses on my hand. “Oh my god.”

    “What?”

    He shakes his head, trying to convince himself that reality is all but an imagination. “,” he murmurs. That’s when I notice that my ring finger is occupied by a matching gold band.

    Except mine has a diamond carved inside.

    “Oh my god, this is real,” I whisper after biting the diamond as hard as I can. “It’s not scratching.”

    Sehun and I share a horrified look.

    We got married, and neither of us has any idea how it happened.

[32]

Breakfast is a show. Chanyeol and Sooyoung are crying. Seriously. Tears springing from the corner of their eyes as they laugh their asses off.

    I sigh. “You both aren’t helping.”

    Sehun sits back, relaxed and carefree as he always is. I send him a glare, and he shrugs, eyes widening as he mouths what?

    “Dude, your parents are going to murder you,” Chanyeol observes, wiping a single tear from his eye.

    Sehun catches my head before I slam it on the table. “Luv, it really isn’t that bad. You’re overreacting.”

    My jaw falls open. “Me? Overreacting? I’m going to be murdered by my mother. You are going to be murdered by the royal family.”

    Sehun chuckles. “Listen. I think if we just accept that what happened happened, then—“

    Sooyoung finally gets it together and leans forward to offer her opinions. “Uh—have you seen Fred?”

    All four of us turn around to see Fred nervously pacing. He looks like he’s going to cry and spontaneously combust all at the same time.

    Sehun whistles. “Yeah, it would seem that we’re both ed.”

    “Francis!” We hear a shout from behind us as Irene approaches us at godspeed. “You son of a—“

    Fred skids to a stop in an almost comedic manner which would’ve been funnier if we weren’t in such a serious state. He watches Irene march past him with her hands in tiny fists.

    The poor man. Someone put him out of his misery already. He looks conflicted as if he couldn’t decide if saving Sehun was worth it anymore.

    Irene grabs Sehun by his collar, and everyone’s eyes are on us. “You crazy, mothering bastard!”

    Sehun titters anxiously, holding both of his arms up. “We can talk about this. Rationally—“

    “No! There is no rationality about this!”

    Sehun frowns. “I mean—if you really look at it, the situation isn’t as drastic as it seems.”

    Fred clears his throat, offering us his phone. On it, there are several articles about us on Google.

    Heir to the throne gets a e pregnant and marries her as of last night!

    “I am not a e!” I protest.

    Chanyeol blinks. “Well, what’s worse?”

    Irene exhales in irritation as she lets go of her younger brother. “You ruined everything, you .”

    Sehun throws his arms up. “Hey, hey! How was I supposed to know that the entire world would be up my arse overnight?”

    “I was going to announce my marriage first, you fool!”

    The silence is extremely loud. Sehun blinks rapidly. “Huh?”

    “I’m engaged to Seulgi,” she says casually.

    Sooyoung gasps. “As in the Hollywood actress?”

    Fred’s face is red with anxiety. He’s about a couple of seconds from passing out.

[33]

Sehun is immediately shipped back to the UK, and I decide to take an academic break. Things can only get worse from here. I haven’t talked to my parents at all since our marriage blew up.

    When I get home, my dad bombards me with a million questions. Hailee keeps asking if this means she can be a princess.

    My mother cannot stop lecturing me about my irresponsibility of not telling her in advance about my relationship with the Prince.

    “Why did I have to learn about my daughter’s affair with the Prince from the media?”

    I pray for the ground to swallow me. “Can you blame me? You aren’t exactly the easiest person to be around.”

    My dad barks out my name in disapproval.

    I glare at them. “Are you seriously on her side right now? I’m being slandered by every single, ing tabloid out here! Get a grip, all of you.”

    “Don’t raise your voice at me!” My mother retaliates.

    “God, you and your insufferable ‘respect elders’ bull!”

    Before my dad can open his mouth, I quip, “you’re not allowed to say anything—especially since you’ll take both of their sides over mine in a heartbeat. I literally cannot take this facade ‘proper’ family bull we have going on.”

    “Take some responsibility for shocking all of us. Why do you have to bring other in?” Hailee complains like the brat she is.

    I take a stab at her because no one will. “Rich of you to speak when you’re the one with the most secrets. You think I don’t know that you got pregnant with my ex’s child and got an abortion?”

    My mother gapes, her gaze bouncing between us. “What? Hailee, is this true?”

    Hailee glares murderously at me. “You ! That was so uncalled for. You’ve always been jealous of me, and you’ve just gone and done it.” She storms off, ignoring our dad calling after her.

    I exhale shakily before turning to my mother. “See what you’ve done? Take a good look because I hate you.”

    She takes a hard inhale, lips quivering. I don’t look at my dad because I know what his exact expression will say.

    Disappointment.

    I retreat to my room, slamming my door. How did my life go to absolute in the span of days?

    I’m painting. With oil paint no less. I don’t usually like working with oil because there is no room for mistakes. Acrylic is more forgiving in that aspect.

    Working with oil, you have to be extremely careful because one mistake ruins the entire work.

    I’m not sure what spurred me on to pull my old things out from the attic. I was just so angry, and because art was the only way I could vent out my feelings without killing anyone, it was the only plausible alternative.

    The fumes make my vision blur, and I’m aware I could pass out if I don’t ventilate my room in the next minute, but my anger made me irrational.

    What if I’d wanted to spite my parents?

    Besides, Sehun hadn’t contacted me in nearly two weeks. I’m starting to think that I was right. That this relationship was doomed from the start. I was so stupid to expect anything different.

    Still, I’m painting him. How pathetic. Of all things I could paint, my hands automatically go to him.

    On the canvas, I’ve outlined the moment that lives in my head constantly. It’s the smile that I’ve never directly seen on him.

    One day, Sooyoung showed me a picture that she captured of him. She told me that this is exactly what love was. A puppy-like fondness that blooms on his face whenever he’s watching me from afar.

    My heart swells, and I miss him. I miss his dumb jokes. I miss his bear hugs when he picks me up from work. I would do anything to hear his voice right now.

    My door opens, and I’m unaware of it until I hear someone clearing their throat. It’s my mother. I immediately frown.

    She sees that but isn’t off-put by it in the slightest. Instead, she sits on the edge of my bed, and her eyes are drawn toward the painting of Sehun.

    “Is that him?” She asks.

    I’m surprised she isn’t complaining about me wasting time because I could be doing something more productive than art.

    I answer reluctantly, “yeah.”

    “I’m sorry for being a bad parent,” she says. It takes me by surprise. My mother has never apologized to me for anything. “Don’t look so surprised. I’m not a complete .”

    I choke on a cough, and she cracks a small smile.

    “I’ve never given you any credit, and for that, I’m sorry. We all have different paths in life, and I must’ve forgotten the most important thing about life while being a mother.”

    “Which is?” I ask, not sure where this is going. I’m still shocked that my mother could be a pleasant person.

    She points to my heart. “In here. This is where your passion lies. My passion—“ She points to herself. “—is stability and parenting. Believe it or not, I’m quite proud of how you turned out. You’ve always been a strong girl. So, I’ve always thought that you didn’t need me as much as Hailee did. I should’ve known better.”

    I gape at her.

    “I’m not sure if you’ll forgive me for how I’ve treated you, but I do want to heal our relationship. I think I’ve caused a lot of damage in how you see relationships. You’re insecure about The Prince and yourself, aren’t you?”

    I divert my eyes. “How’d you know?”

    She blows a raspberry. “You’re exactly like me.”

    I throw her a bewildered look. “Me?”

    “Yes,” she confirms, laughing to herself. “I was once untamed, myself. Your dad was worse when he was younger. He proposed to me with a ring pop.”

    I laugh incredulously. “God, no.”

    My mother nods in agreement. “But I said yes because he changed how I viewed life. I always felt like I wasn’t enough. You see, I’ve begun to grow confident of my actions only recently, and it wasn’t until you told me the truth that I realized I’ve done things wrong. I lost sight of myself. I push my insecurities onto you.”

    I stare at her. “But you—you’re so strong and independent. How?”

    She snorts. “Me? I can’t live without your dad. Believe it or not, I really do love him.”

    “Oh,” I say weakly. “How did you know things would work out?”

    She shrugs. “I didn’t. I blindly believed in us. Though I was skeptical at first, I had you and Hailee, didn’t I?”

    The corner of my lips tugs upward. “Okay.”

    “Okay?”

    “I believe you.”

    “You do?”

    “Yes,” I reply quickly. “Mom.” It feels foreign on my tongue, but I’d like to think that things will be different now.

[34]

My parents and Hailee aren’t home. They’re having dinner out of town. Recently, we’ve all been trying to fix our relationship with each other. My parents force all of us to eat dinner as a family once a week and talk about our feelings.

    It was awkward in the beginning, but after hearing my mom talk about having with my dad last week, I had to opt out of this dinner.

    She didn’t push too hard, so for that, I’m grateful.

    I’m currently munching on popcorn as I binge through Criminal Minds. Spencer Reid makes the misery of being without my husband just a tad more bearable.

    God, when will I get used to him being my husband?

    Speaking of, I haven’t seen him in a month. It’s been a nightmare, going around town—pretending like I’m not the person everyone is talking about.

    Mom almost jumped someone for unknowingly calling me a lowlife. Dad had quite the time of his life holding her back. Meanwhile, Hailee snapchatted everything on her private story.

    I almost killed her. Her excuse is that she wants to attend film school now, so my life has become free real estate. Mom, to our surprise, didn’t complain about her two daughters pursuing art.

    As I skip the ending credits, something clatters against my window. There’s a possibility I could be murdered in cold blood. Maybe I’m watching too much Criminal Minds.

    I stand up to investigate. Sneaking close to my window, I peek behind the curtains to see someone jumping and waving like crazy. I frown, tugging my curtains open. Squinting my eyes, I realize it’s Sehun.

    The Prince.

    My husband.

    What the ?

    I struggle to get the window open, but when I do, half of my body hangs out of the window. “You idiot,” I shout from above.

    He grins from ear to ear. “About time, luv. Can I come in?”

    It’s kind of weird seeing him in my childhood bedroom rather than my dorm room. I watch him plop onto my bed as if he’s been here all along.

    Crossing my arms, I finally scrutinize him. “What are you doing here?”

    “I escaped,” he answers nonchalantly.

    “What?” I bellow in shock.

    Sehun laughs, opening his arms to me. I meet him there, and he pulls me into his chest. His familiar smell comforts me, and I unknowingly tighten my arms around him, afraid that if I blink—he’ll disappear again.

    “I love you,” he whispers. “So, what I have to say next—you can’t kill me.”

    “Depends on how bad,” I grumble.

    He hums, “not if Fred gets to me first. I ran away from him.”

    I laugh at that. “Oh, you’re dead to him.”

    Sehun makes a carefree sound as he snuggles closer to me. “I miss this. I missed you.”

    “Me too,” I agree quietly.

    “I denounced the throne,” he says out of nowhere.

    I freeze. “What? Are you crazy? That’s—that’s—“

    He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. I know I’m not.”

    “It isn’t that simple. You love your family,” I argue.

    “I do, but I also love you. I’m not going to let a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity slip away.”

    “You had a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Why would you let it go so easily?” I insist.

    Sehun sits up, fixing a confused look at me. “Are you angry?”

    “Yes! You’re irrational. You can’t throw your title and protection away for some girl.”

    His forehead furrows. “Don’t say that about yourself. You’re not just some girl. You’re my wife.”

    I scoff. “No, our marriage was a mistake. It was Vegas, and we were drunk.”

    Okay, now he’s angry. “ off—you don’t get to dismiss how I feel, okay? If you want the crown so bad, take it. Don’t be so bloody daft. Why are you acting as if marriage wasn’t apart of our future?”

    I exchange a serious look with him.

    He shakes his head. “No.”

    “This is what I’m afraid of!” I shout, trying to get it in his head. “What if you wake up, in ten—twenty years? Imagine how it would feel if you started to look at me in resentment? I don’t want to be the reason for you to give up the future you’ve always wanted.”

    Sehun stays silent for a couple of seconds. Then, he hunches over and begins to laugh. He doesn’t stop laughing even as I glare at him. “Oh, blast it. Did you honestly believe that I would be happy faking a role that I never wanted for the rest of my life?”

    I tilt my head. “W-what?”

    “I never wanted any of it. I thought you would’ve picked up on it when I told you about my insecurities.”

    “But—“

    Sehun tsks. “No, luv. There’s no but’s. No what if’s. There’s only us. I believe in us. Isn’t love enough? Did you forget what I told you? I want to be a professor. I want to teach. I want to attend all of the exhibitions at your art museum. Do you think I can do that if I choose to be apart of the royal family?”

    I’m too flabbergasted to speak. “Am I dreaming?”

    He chuckles softly, pulling me back into his arms. “How many fingers do I have on each hand?”

    “Five,” I deadpan. “Oh my god, this is real.”

    Sehun nods while laughing at how adorably dumb I am. “Yes, this is real. I do love you, and I choose to be with you.”

    “,” I mutter under my breath. “Then, who will take over?”

    Sehun shrugs. “Irene? I don’t know. I don’t think she’s opposed to it. I’m the least of their problems anyway. My parents can’t hide their distaste that she’s marrying a woman.”

    “Oh god, I thought same- marriage was legal.”

    “It is, but it’s a personal prejudice within my family.”

    “Will she be okay?”

    He laughs. “Please—Irene made all of her teachers quit in a single day because she’s so strongly opinionated.”

    “In other words, she’s a boss--.”

    “Yeah, but enough about her—let’s talk about us.”

    I tilt my head. “What do you want to talk about?”

    Sehun leans in closely, kissing me sweetly. “How about some pillow talk?”

    As our lips are inches from touching, I say, “I love you too, you know?”

    His lips twitch. “I can’t wait to tell our future children that you almost bashed my head in that day. Such a perfect meet-cute, don't you think?”

[a/n] i did it, boys and girls. i did it. i finally finished this. i was so conflicted on finishing this because i wasn't sure if i liked this story. but when i reread it, it was such a funny and lighthearted story that i wanted to conclude it. there's like a ton of that happens in this chapter so forgive me if i shock you. i hope i made you guys happy because i'm definitely happy that i'm able to mark this complete before i purely tunnel-vision janus.

i needed some fluff before i have to write a ton of angst in janus. rip. okay til next time!