Himchan laid in bed, unable to close his eyes for his heart is worrying for the days ahead. What is he going to do? He has no idea why the prince would want to do something so horrible, so dangerous. Does he not know of the misery gnawing inside Himchan? Himchan tossed and turned in bed, sleep far away from him. At nights like this when he is unable to fall asleep peacefully, he would take out his old storybooks and read them but, not tonight. Not when those books would remind him of that certain someone he would wish to forget so much.

When Himchan's new job started, he dealt with it with a jittery heart and shaky hands but he tried not to show it. He kept his composure and concealed his emotions, following the prince everywhere as the highness' assistant. The King praised him for his hard work and capability at the royal table and Himchan accepted it humbly. He wished he could have just given up and made a blunder. He wished he could. But he didn't want to disappoint his parents and shame his sister. He wished he wasn't that capable. That way, they wouldn't keep him beside the prince anymore.

The prince liked to stay up late to tend to his paperwork and Himchan, as his assistant, had to accompany the prince into his late work. One night, the prince was sitting at his desk, documents in one hand as he leaned against the back of his chair, scanning through the lines with bored eyes. He rubbed his temple with one hand and sighed quietly. Even though he knew he was born to take over these royal duties, it didn't stop him from loathing it once in a while. He would push those desires to be let free away, lock them inside his little case and weigh his responsibilities down on the shaking box. Every now and then, that need to be escape made its way out of his grasp.

His eyes shifted away from the paper in his hand and made their way to the man beside him. The long french windows to the balcony were agape and the white curtains were flowing with the night breeze. Himchan sat at his own table, writing diligently, absorbed in his duties even if the moon outside looked especially beautiful tonight. The prince put down his paperwork silently, carefully, so as to not disturb the man in deep thoughts. Resting one arm on his desk, he leaned the side of his face on the propped up hand and stared at Himchan. 

The prince smiled to himself. Himchan looked so serious as he wrote carefully over the papers. He was so absorbed, he was missing the lovely night sky. He could have admired it just by turning his head. But he did not. The prince observed in silence and soon found the real beauty wasn't within the starry sky and neither was it the crescent moon slender and thin amongst the ethereal darkness-- it was the man too busy to observe the scenery outside the window.

The prince gave a quiet laugh as his eyes followed the moonlight-shine over Himchan's outline. The beauty is ignorant of beauty lesser than itself. The prince stood up from his desk and walked over to the windows. Himchan looked up from his work and saw the prince gazing out of the window. The pen in his hand stopped as he stared at the back of the prince. Those eyes, they were smiling at the night outside. Himchan's eyes followed Yongguk's hand as it pushed open one of the long french windows. The prince stepped out onto the balcony, his long legs all languid grace and his faraway gaze charmingly captivating. Himchan could only stare with envy.

It looked like a painting. The prince's white shirt contrasted with the dark sky outside as he leaned against the iron railing. His skin was the same as the glowing moonlight, the colour of pearls and it shone like snow against the sky's canvas. And his lips, they were as red as Snow White's apple.

Himchan turned back to his work, pen uncertain in his hand. His eyes were on the written lines but his mind is afloat elsewhere.

Maybe those lips were as poisonous as Snow White's apple.

It was like poison, to him. And he couldn't cure it.

As he delved deeper into his thoughts, a voice woke him from his daydream. "Himchan."

He snapped his head up towards the smile at the balcony. The prince called once more. "Himchan, come over here."

Himchan couldn't deny the prince's request and so he stood up from his desk, legs a little asleep, and walked over to the balcony. Then, he saw it. The beautiful crescent glowing in the night sky, like the female lead in a play, graceful and charming. The whole sky belonged to it that night.

"You have been ignoring this beauty the whole night. Are those boring papers more interesting than this?" The prince asked with a subtle smile and Himchan turned away from it quickly. He didm't answer, for he knew not how. The prince caught the tiny uncertainty in Himchan's expression as the man shifted his gaze to the lovely glow of the moon dusted on the surface of the sea and he smiled. He had words in his mind but not all words could be spoken. He wished he could tell Himchan that he was as captivating as the moon. He shook his head silently and mocked himself. Strolling back to his desk, the prince decided to resume work once more.

Himchan followed but before he could sit down, the prince spoke. "Himchan, I need more ink." The ink container was empty and dried. Himchan nodded and walked over, took the ceramic and refilled it carefully with black ink. The prince reached out a hand for the refilled ink as he flipped through another stack of documents. Himchan handed out the ceramic carefully, heart beating nervously as he tried not to touch the prince's hand. But the prince was oblivious to this and too distracted by the papers, he reached out carelessly and their hands touched, too much, too close for an accident.

Himchan retracted his hand in shock and the prince did so as well when his palms touched soft skin. The ceramic fell on the carpeted floor and bounced in retaliation. The prince who bent down to catch it had his white shirt dotted with tiny ink blots and Himchan flustered.

"I'm sorry, your highness." He apologised quickly and picked up the ink container from the stained carpet, heart beating wildly at his carelessness. The prince looked down at his dirtied shirt and smiled instead. "It's alright." He looked up from himself and caught the nervousness on Himchan's face which reminded him of the contact that jolted them apart earlier on. His eyes roamed and caught the stray ink stain on Himchan's chin.

He wasn't thinking. He certainly was not. The prince reached out and rubbed a thumb over the ink blot, smudged it over Himchan's fair skin and rubbed it again to rid of it. Himchan stared in shock and trepidation which stunned the prince in his actions.

"I'm sorry." He apologised instead and retracted his hand. He turned back to his desk, for he had no idea what else to do. Himchan stood up and walked out of the room as quickly as possible, heart racing like a wild horse inside his chest. The prince's eyes followed the retreating silhouette of Himchan before looking down his hand. He was straying again. He was making things difficult for him again. He sighed with a sad smile as he gazed down at the smudge on his thumb.