44

THE SOUND of the gun going off and the bullet racing through the air froze Seokjin in place. His back against the wall turned into frost, hands numb, eyes wide.

A surge of blood races through his veins, pumping his heart at an ungodly pace, every muscle-every fiber of his being all at once squeezing towards a tiny space where his lungs as if stopped working. 

Anxiety.

I'm going to die. The boy thought.

Get out of your head, move, idiot!

Seokjin couldn't hear his thought. Hearing his heart drum sonorous, a rhyme involving a medium echo of what seemed like a heart failure as the bullet charged swiftly, it's reflection painting terror in his eyes.

He did not move.

One, two, three . . . The boy counted quietly. Taking deep breaths, he forced himself to run or something, but his legs were glued to the ground, obstinate.

If this was a movie or nonrealistic fiction, the bullet would've charged toward him slowly, which it is, however, according to Seokjin, time-lapse and time travel was unreal, unimaginable to think off when there wasn't evidence of its existence and exactly the meaning of it.

For some odd reason, the boy did hear the bullet scissor right past him. But why didn't he feel the heavyweight of the object colliding with him?

Let's rewind the time then, shall we?

With the bullet speeding through the silent hollow air towards Seokjin, hitting the right side of the wall, it fell down the red carpet floor . . . dense, faint, yet sonorous, echoing, bouncing off the room's walls and in both boy's ears.

Silence engulfed the whole room like toxic gas. Heavy breathing was the only sound heard.

Chest heaving, lips parted, Seokjin gasped for air, the flood of thoughts drowning him in his own sea—the brain. Taking shallow deep breaths, eyes still wide, and his heart went ba-dump loudly, filling his ears. Without a thought, his body finally obeyed him. Sliding against the wall, his bottom met the ground so lightly, and dropped his head in his legs, wrapping his arms around them.

The tousled dark hair boy's chocolate-drizzled eyes blurred, ocean of tears swimming in them. Clenching his teeth, jaw, and hands, tears spilled, flowing down the valley of Hoseok's upper firm cheek of a sword, dancing to the roundness capturing soft blush of blood creeping there out of pure rage, sorrow, yet relief. Releasing a heavy breath, the gun in his hand loosened, and fell out, slamming down the ground. 

Hoseok sprinted to his friend, his enemy, his beloved, in a hast. He wrapped his arms around the brunette, forehead touching his.

"I'm sorry . . . " Hoseok breathed out, amazed at his own words. His eyes were burning the carpet laying under them, threatening him to look at the boy who he denied to love but his body couldn't so, and he realized his heart had grown fond of him despite the lies, and seemingly lovemaking was so horrifying when he realized the truth.

It wasn't just attraction anymore.

The better term ignited in both of the boy's eyes. 

The silly thought inside tells Hoseok 'where's there a will, there's a way,' but what exactly is the way? Take Seokjin with him secretly and run away just like that or is there another game strategy in order to win this game of love and war.

Now that didn't matter. 

The past was in the past, and all that mattered was this boy, this beautiful forsaken boy who's actually a prince eventually crowned to be King of Rekinia.

Not his husband.

Nor his life.

They had to separate.

Even if it meant to save the world.

No . . . there must be an approach. He did not want this. Hoseok did not want the world to pull down a dark curtain and for his loved ones to separate. Clenching the cloth wrapped around Seokjin's arms, the brunette's head raised up, meeting his husband's gaze, and lightly touched his arm fearfully but trust suddenly glowed in his eyes.

"Hoseok . . . I'm sorry . . . for every—everything I've ever done to you and myself. I thought if I rebelled against father, though, I found myself following his orders. . . . Maybe he'd stop abusing power and leave freedom of the people of Rekinia and the world. But he wants something more, he has to have the rose in his hands first. But we can't let him have it and we're running out of time!"

Slowly lifting his head, meeting Seokjin's caramel eyes, Hoseok felt his lips curving, hand reaching out. The brunette's cheek sitting on his husband's warm hand. Seokjin responded back, smiling delicately, eyes now warm and the other, gazing into each other's window of the soul. Slowly, but surely, the distance between them was closing.

Quiet, heart-pounding, Seokjin closes his eyes, feeling Hoseok move closer to him. Noses inches from touching. 

"Hoseok now's not the time—"

A pair of soft warm lips press against his forehead lightly, silencing the other as it lingered there, tingling a happy, startled sensation knocking at his heart.

Hoseok leans forward, whispering something funny yet so aggravating that the boy's a blushing mess.

"So, king Kim Seokjin, what should we do about the mess you created?" 

Seokjin can't help but avoid the boy's immensely dark beautiful warm eyes melting him right there and then, "Seokjin, look at me," his voice soft.

He lifts his head, eyes wide, and everything inside him ignites with Hoseok's lips capturing his in a sedate heavy kiss, angling his head to the side occasionally, escaping into the wonders of space and where stars twinkle and mysteries of the other world unravel. He almost forgets how to breathe, hand moving to hold his shirt, feeling Hoseok's hand slide into his own, and then pull away for breath. 

"I think . . . it's best if we attempt the Robin Hood and Maid Marian method, don't you think?" Seokjin beams, cheeks flushed red, his hand still clinging onto his husband's shirt.

"Why didn't you say so earlier?"

Delight engulfed Hoseok as a brave smile takes over his features. Standing up, arms coming around the younger's back, scooping him up in his arms bridal style. Seokjin studied his face, concern gleaming in his eyes, and at ease when he saw a powerful fire ignite in the eyes of a man he always knew, even before getting into a fake marriage.

Hoseok's been that very man.

He always has been. For the people, country, his very heart.

Jung Hoseok is that man.

He is Robin Hood.

And that last key is the one who has the key to his heart.

Maid Marian, or the one who's to become king of Rekinia.

Kim Seokjin is that man.

A/N: I'M BACK GUYS AND READY TO FINISH THIS BOOK. I hope you enjoyed the chapter, thank you for reading and for your support ❤️❤️❤️