**they just never stop moving, do they? lol ; v;

arranged marriage!au

*

FINALLY -- this chapter is wAAAAAAy long-due, i'm so, so sorry T^T'

this is cringey bc my writing doesn't really evolve and i'm not used to writing fantasy lololol and i don't know how to write long stories and the idea was too long and i had to condense it so it turned out with a really crappy ending and i--

IT'S SNOWING AND I'M TOO HAPPY FOR NEGATIVITY LOL; I HOPE Y'ALLZ HAVE THE BESTEST DAY/NIGHT <3 uwu

***

☀️

The sky on the 24th of November was a sight to see in the Yoon Kingdom. At the strike of seven, reds folded into oranges, yellows were swallowed up by dense greens, then all washed out into pale blues as the heavens tumbled in an array of vibrant shades until darkness took over the world. The sun was violently torn away from her throne with a blood-curdling screech, replaced with her eternal nemesis. The first moon sat on her shadowy throne in all her half-eaten glory, as if watching all the world be swallowed by her merciless servant, night. Clouds took up their posts alongside the glowing mover of tides, sliding over and around her until one stray ran off to cover the elegant light in a fit of rebellion.

A shadow passed over Prince Dowoon's brow, yet his eyes remained trained on an area slightly above him.

Dowoon was... livid. Never before had so much raw emotion flown through his veins: not when he had been pushed off of his horse by his sadistic cousin at the age of four, not when he had been given a harsh beating for a crime mistakenly committed by his sister, not even when he had been publicly humiliated by his mother for sleeping in on the day of her birthday parade (it was all because of his ignorant goddamn ass of a servant who didn't bother to wake him on time since he only wished to steal the little gold the prince could earn for himself -- his father didn't spoil him with an allowance despite his princely status -- but who cared, anyway). No -- at the moment, his father was being terribly rash, and the Prince was not up for any of that kind of treatment -- not when he had just spent a month slaving over his archaic-arse manuscripts to correctly learn the greetings for the foreign tea ceremony which had taken place only a day before. Now another ceremony was added to his plate, and this one Dowoon dreaded far more than the last.

"Father! I am not... I--" Dowoon was seething even more than before when he saw that his father was nonchalant to his emotions: the man was idly picking at the corners of his beard while looking at the painting on the wall. The youth's hand drew out on its own, and he grasped King Yoon's tassled sleeve as gently as he could with his violently shaking fingers. Despite the circumstances, Dowoon knew that he had to speak formally to his father at all times, and so he did his best to swallow down the insults searing his tongue. "I wish not to get married so soon. Please-- Please take my youth into consideration! I am only nineteen!!"

"So what if you are but nineteen?! A prince should never behave in such an indecent way!!"

"But... But when have I ever acted out of hand??! What you are doing simply escapes my understanding, dear father... There seems to be no reason for this to take place — none at all!!"

The King only huffed out a short breath of impatience and started off down the colourful main hall. Prince Dowoon was in a desperate chase after his father in a second — the news that had just been announced to him was beyond unsatisfactory... his life would surely change for the worst despite all of the King's justifications — and the 19-year-old royalty's feet hit the velvet-fringed crimson carpet in a mad chase, the sounds of desperation echoing throughout the spacious area.

"Father--"

His protests were finally cut off by the slam of the door to the King's suite and a muffled, "Enough! Go rest your head, my son... You will soon know the company of the woman with whom you will someday share her throne."

*

Dowoon returned to his room in a sour mood at the end of that day. From 7:15 to 10:00, he'd been busily scribbling down the remainder of his studies in the library, only allowing himself the luxury of a distracting rhythm beaten out by quiet toes on the velvety carpet beneath his work table. Now, after all these torturous hours, he was free to think of something other than education.

The young prince carefully shut his door, not wanting to cause a commotion in the echo-prone halls, before leaning against it with a sigh. His hand rose to draw itself through his disheveled hair — he'd spent too much time with Sungjin, he declared to himself; this habit was bound to damage the thick strands someday — and Dowoon found his thoughts lingering on the young mechanic he'd grown acquainted with over the past several years. They'd met at the marketplace one night, Sungjin having knocked into Dowoon by mistake while walking backwards to better inspect his father's mercantile stall. From then on, a friendship blossomed and remained in bloom ever since.

Now why had Dowoon been in the marketplace — at night!? — in the first place? This was a subject the young prince did not want anybody in the palace to know about. The youngest Yoon wasn't allowed outside the palace unless there was a royal ceremony (such as his mother's blasted birthday...), and he couldn't even go out then without something to conceal his face with. His father considered this "necessary protection for a future king; especially someone as sensitive as 'little Yoonie!'..." This, of course, ticked Dowoon off. Sure, he was quite sensitive. And sure, it was extremely dangerous to be a prince, especially a prince whose identity was out in the open. But that didn't stop him from knowing how ridiculous it was to enclose somebody (especially someone as adventurous and curious as he was) in a stupid, stuffy castle. So he would usually sneak out to the marketplace on easy nights, make a little coinage, entertain his stomach with fresh foods. Thus far, he hadn't gotten caught, much to his relief.

A stray chime of his clock declaring 10:00 stirred Dowoon from his thoughts. He begrudgingly pushed himself away from the door with a groan and removed his clothing. "Shoes off... Socks off... Now for the robe—"

The moon shone through his window, a gentle navy and gold sheen in its wake. Dowoon drew his baby blue curtains across the light to obscure its taunting shade. As he made his way to his bed, falling backwards into its feather-light covers, the prince's mind turned to the matter at hand. The next day wouldn't be one of the calmest days in town, he knew -- what with the coming of a new princess bride, and all -- but he had no incentive to keep himself from going to the marketplace one last time. Because after tomorrow, he would move to his bride's kingdom and would leave his older sister to acquire the Yoon throne from his mother when the queen would reach the end of her reign. It was likely he would never be able to set foot in the Dal Ui township ever again... Luckily, his father had allotted him one last day to himself before his marriage and of course he would make the most of his time off with the common people whom he loved so dearly. He'd rather do that than re-read the scripts he had to learn for the marriage, obediently waiting in his room until the guests would arrive at the palace at the second moonfall for dinner (following their rest at the neighboring township). Even a dog would feel burdened by something of this nature...

While his eyelids slowly began to droop with the onslaught of exhaustion, the second moon rose beside his enchanting lover.

🌙

In the Kim Kingdom, the first moon finally presented herself from behind her veil of clouds. Her lover faithfully shone out over the land from beside her, seemingly hiding his full belly behind her bitten-into shoulder whenever he felt himself growing shy. At 10:00 in the evening, the bells sounded, and a certain brunette found himself, as always, amidst a dozen praying monks, their ancient faces touching the ground every time they bowed. Wonpil's nose lightly brushed the limestone as his body bowed with theirs. A shiver caught in his weary shoulders and he stifled it with a deeper bow. The monks were too indulged in their prayers to notice.

Soon enough, the hourly prayer was over, and the elderly men dispersed amongst their scantly-furnished chambers. No one spared the young man a glance. A few minutes later, Wonpil was once more all alone. He sighed.

That night, like all the ones before, Wonpil decided that he wanted nothing to do with his clergical studies. He was tired of all of the loneliness; the young apprentice so badly wanted to hold somebody's palm between his aching fingers, to listen to something other than psalms and choirs all day, to sing his lungs out to a lover's song. What he needed was a chance to get away from his duties, even just for a day. Not like the monks would ever let him or anything...

Wonpil's second sigh was broken by a stray whinny. The young man stood still a few moments, honing his ears for any other strange sounds that might come. A hint of torchlight entered the prayer room as the sound of light hoofbeats became intelligible, and the youth choked back a celebratory cry as he leapt to the window. A carriage was pulling into the monastery, ornately decorated with the Kim family's crest. Wonpil's heart raced in his chest. That couldn't be... could it?—

The horses were brought to a stop, and the coachman stepped down from his seat to open the door for whoever was inside. A lady elegantly stepped out, long, dark hair swooping in an smooth curve about her rounded face. Her white sleeve rose to her forehead in a courteous sign of gratitude as soon as her feet safely touched the stone flooring outside the monastery. Wonpil's heartbeat quickened further. "Najee-noona? What is she doing here?.." As the young man pondered what his cousin could possibly want at his monastery, princess Najee gracefully seated herself atop a stone bench to the side of the entrance to the religious safe haven. The horses were drawn away in the direction of the stables. "Oh, they're changing horses..." Wonpil blankly stared at his cousin for a while, his chin balanced on his palm in a dejected wish to travel like she did when he a realization dawned upon him.

There was the perfect opportunity to do just that, spread before his eyes in a clear invitation to take it.

So who could blame the young apprentice for stealing out of the monastery and hitching a ride on the back of the carriage, the sharp November wind chilling his reddening cheeks and the glow of the moons illuminating his joyful smile??

☀️

The next day came in a flash. Dowoon's ears twitched as they were blasted with the beautiful yet agonizingly-loud melodies he was gifted daily by the songbirds which for some strange reason only liked to hang out around his window in the mornings. His groggy eyes were met with helpful (though jittery) fingers and cold feet were welcomed by an even colder stone floor he had forgotten to draw a rug over a week before. He drew open his baby blue curtains. A flutter of wings, the sight of a dawnless sky and the sloppy fleeing of two moons. The prince sighed. He had been waken earlier than usual.

4:30 read his clock. Sleep read his mind.

The youthful prince wiped away the second option with rapidly blinking eyes and wildly flapping arms. "Morning exercise, get up -- morning exercise, c'mon, geddup--" Teeth and tongue met the crisp morning air wafting in from the cracks in the window -- Dowoon had destroyed it that one time he caved a mosquito's head in -- when the prince's mouth grew wide in a yawn. "Time to get going," he instructed himself, all groggy-like, before pulling on the versatile jumpsuit he reserved for going out to Dal Ui. Then he was lifting the window and lifting himself out of it into the comforting clutches of the elm growing right outside his room.

*

"Do--Dowoon..??"

The sun had finally made her consecutive debut in the sky by the time Dowoon reached Dal Ui. A toothy smile was sent his way as he neared the merchandise stall owned by Sungjin's father. The smile belonged to Sungjin, himself, and Dowoon was all the more happy for it this morning. "Long time no see, yeah, Sungjin-hyung?"

"'Course." The older man swiped at his shaven head with thick fingers and charmingly offered Dowoon a rag. "Help me out here, would you—"

"On it, hyung!"

Dowoon's deft hands swiped the rag out of his beaming friend's grasp and he strode, humming unevenly, over to where a small station wagon stood atop a platform beside the stall. While Sungjin grabbed tools from the stall, Dowoon inspected the wagon for damaged areas that had to be cleaned off in order to better see them (so they could be fixed, of course). As he neared a wheel engraved with a thick layer of grime, a sniffle passed into his disbelieving ears. He startled, jumping back.

"All right, there?" Sungjin offered him from afar, a laugh on his tongue. Dowoon sent a grunt of affirmation before carefully waddling back over to the wheel. This time, a muffled groan entered his honed ears. The curious youth peeked around the wheel, and his eyes were met with a trunk balanced haphazardly on the back of the wagon.

"What's the trunk?" Dowoon called out to Sungjin.

"Dunno. This piece of work just came in a coupl'a minutes ago; haven't had time to investigate."

"You're a busy person, alright, hyung. Where's yer dad?" Dowoon's mouth worked as quickly as his fingers on the unnecessarily-heavily secured latches of the trunk. The voice from earlier seemed to have gone silent.

"Eh, went off to look at the other stalls. Business's been tough, lately; why buy tools to fix when there are mechanics, right? So I'm busier than ever and dad's out looking for an assistant or a new rug, I can't really tell half the time."

"Ah... I see." Dowoon's nails picked at the latches with no avail. "Pass me a wrench, would you?"

"Aisch, who speaks like that to their elder?!"

"Ah, sorry, hyung; my tongue slipped. May I borrow that wrench?"

Sungjin jokingly grumbled as he made his way over to his newfound helper but passed Dowoon the wrench despite his apparent disappointment. "Kids these days... Always asking, never giving."

"You're only two years older than me," Dowoon countered beneath his breath. His hands put the wrench to use on the left latch, and rust fell as the helpful tool met the ancient-looking metal. "Where'd this 'piece of work' come from, then?"

"Don't stick your nose where it shouldn't be stucken," Sungjin chided him.

"Stuck," Dowoon corrected him, finally having heaved the first latch off of the trunk.

"Whatever."

"But— I want to know!"

"So do I! And do I?" Sungjin began rubbing at a hole in the rear of the wagon. He hissed when his rag came out completely stained after only a few swipes and turned back to Dowoon. "Not really!"

"Not... really??" The second latch clanged to the ground. Now only the third latch was left to remove.

"Well," Sungjin lifted a clean rag out of his apron and began to more vehemently rub at the greasy stain which was obstructing his view from the damage he was meant to repair. "See— when a customer" hiss "crashes into" grunt "a neighboring stall, I'm" groan "obligated to fix their vehicle, even if I don't know where they ran off to," hiss "right?" The once-clean rag fell to the ground in a heap of grime.

"Understandable." The third latch finally hit the ground and Dowoon restrained his yell of victory. "Thanks for the wrench, hyung."

Sungjin took back the tool, shaking his head. "Whad'ya think's in there?"

"I— I think it might... possibly... be a who."

"Better hope whoever that 'who' is's alive." Sungjin's hands nestled into his sides as a grave expression knotted together his brows. A bead of sweat threaded itself down his temple. "Corpses aren't my specialty, kid."

"I heard them before I saw the trunk, Sungjin-hyung, I'm sure they haven't died in the past few minutes..." Dowoon's own forehead was beaded with droplets of sweat. "That would be ridiculous..." The prince's trembling fingers clasped over the edge of the leather cover and he shakily lifted it up to expose the contents of the trunk to himself and Sungjin. Another muffled groan, this time much louder than the one from before, carried out of the trunk, and the cover slipped out of Dowoon's fingers. The trunk slammed closed and the sound melded with the prince's surprised scream.

"You complete MORON," Sungjin muttered to himself, and then his sturdy hands were deftly lifting up the cover in one go and throwing it off the side of the trunk as if it was nothing to find a human in a place where no living being was meant to be kept. "Scaring the poor kid to shit like that..."

Dowoon cowered behind his hyung. He wasn't even able to reply with a snide remark to the words directed his way, he was too busy staring at the heap of rope and flesh and bangs and crossed eyes rising to meet his from within the confines of some stuffy trunk he'd found stashed away on the back of a station wagon which had just just crashed into a stall. "He— is he okay?"

"Go check, ya sniffling pup; you were the one who wanted to stick yer nose in this business, werencha, Woon?"

Dowoon gulped. He nervously crept out from behind Sungjin and brought his calloused hands to the ties constricting the stranger's hands. As the rope fell away minutes after he had been methodically pulling at it, Sungjin's inquisitive glance on the movements of his fingers, an audible sigh left the gagged stranger's mouth. Dowoon couldn't help but grit a sigh of his own from between his clamped teeth. Never did he expect to be placed responsible for the life of some battered stranger... especially not on the last day during which he could get some rest from his princely duties... The rope stretched around the tied figure's feet was slightly easier to untie than the one which had restricted his hands moments before, and soon the boy was free. Dowoon breathed out a hushed "Thank God," of relief and reached into the trunk to heave the stranger out and onto the tilted seat making itself at home on the back of the wagon.

Now all that was left was the gag.

Sungjin's inquisitive eyes flashing in his direction moved Dowoon to take action. "Alright, alright. I'm not a coward..." He held the stranger's lopsided gaze for a second, two... and then he was untying the gag and letting it fall to the side. Dowoon steeled himself before removing the rolled up cloth from between prettily o-shaped lips.

When the coarse material left his mouth, the stranger immediately erupted in coughs and gasps. Dowoon hurriedly asked Sungjin to get some water, but the choking boy began to gargle out sounds of protest. Soon enough, his confusing blabbering reached the men with tilted heads in a more intelligible way. "I— thank you," the stranger gasped out. "I can't move yet, but if I could, I'd hug you — no, wait — I'd kiss you! See, my cousin's carriage was there and I wanted to leave the monastery so bad because all the monks are just so drab and I'm one for romance, not celibacy—" Dowoon noticed the stranger's monk-garb for the first time "—and so I snuck onto the carriage and luckily no one noticed me but oh!! Along the way there were some thieves and luckily the carriage got a away... but I kind of... fell off? And the thieves got me, of course, cuz, well, I kind of hit my shoulder when I fell off and couldn't get away from them and then they tied me up and stuffed me in this stuffy trunk, uh, it was so hard to breathe in there!!! But now you saved me and I can breathe again!! See, I had this experience with drowning, once — I tried to go swimming with my cousin but I can't swim so I kind of died for a second and then she had to get her mom to pull me out of the water and I was all GRRAALLLRG when she did compression on my chest and I got a bit hurt because I was a small kid and I didn't know better at the time; then, when I was a bit older I got into a life or death situa—"

Dowoon hurriedly stuffed the rolled-up cloth back in the blabbering stranger's mouth and turned to Sungjin with a grave expression on his face. "Hyung. He's starting to get on my nerves."

Sungjin seemed to be growing stress lines on his forehead from the few moments of exposure to the stranger's talkative nature. "At least ask for his name. I'll go get him some food and drink." The mechanic ran off before Dowoon could stop him.

"So..." The prince scratched the back of his neck and sent a nervous laugh to the spluttering brunette. "You won't... babble if I untie you, will you?"

The stranger shook his head. His eyes pleaded to have his mouth freed once more. Dowoon looked at him questioningly, scrutinizing the innocent, adorably crooked gaze and the trembling lips which were beginning to become coated with a light layer of dripping saliva. His eyes lingered on the stranger's a second too long and he quickly turned away with a sharp inhale when his heart strangely let out a hollow drum-beat inside his blooming chest.

A muffled choking sound signaled Dowoon back to the situation at hand, and he wistfully complied. He slowly reached out to remove the soiled cloth and set it to the side, making sure to brush the boy's cheek with at least one finger. And boy, was this guy's skin soft... The stranger remained silent as promised, apart from the long breath he took in and let out. Dowoon watched him with newfound interest. "So, tell me. What's your name?"

"Wonpil." The stranger, now known to Dowoon as Wonpil, twitched his fingers. A wince crossed his face and his voice got infinitely quieter. "Kim Wonpil."

Dowoon's brows rose to the moon. "Ki... Kim??"

"Yep." Wonpil began rolling his fingers into themselves with a look of pain prevailing his facial features. "Though I'm not in the royal line-up, I'm of the same blood-line."

"... oh." Dowoon watched the boy struggling to move his hands a bit longer. "Then... Kim Wonpil, why aren't you bald like Sungjin-hyung if you're a monk?"

A slap met the back of his head and Dowoon cringed. "I'm not bald, ya dimbit, I have a buzz cut." Sungjin tsked at his younger companion and placed some water and snacks beside Wonpil.

"Hyung, you're back!" Dowoon drew a fake smile on his face and sent his hyung a strained laugh to hide his pain.

Sungjin ignored him and turned to Wonpil. "But really, why's your head so hairy, kid?"

"I'm not a monk; I'm an apprentice! My initiation ceremony was supposed to be next week, so I haven't had my head shaven since I don't have a status as a monk yet." Wonpil flexed his wrists and smiled wide in victory. Dowoon's ears turned red at the sight. He's so cute— "I don't ever want to become a monk, though, so please don't send me back there!"

Sungjin let out a sigh and a rare smile graced his lips. "We won't, don't worry. Too much going on around here to even busy ourselves with getting you back there. I'm Park Sungjin, by the way."

"Kim Wonpil," Wonpil murmured with a slight blush. Dowoon felt his chest light up with a spark of jealousy.

"Well— I'm Yoo Dowoon. But you can call me Woonie. Or sweetie." He did his best not to pout, but, judging from the amused look on Sungjin's face, he failed.

"Hm.. your name's pretty similar to the Yoon prince's! Pretty cool!" Wonpil's eyes didn't stay on him an extra second after he had finished speaking, and they were soon back on Sungjin with that glint Dowoon only wanted to be aimed his way. "Park Sungjinnie, what year were you born?"

Sungjin chuckled whilst looking at the fuming Dowoon with a teasing expression, then turned to Wonpil with a sickeningly sweet, "'93, and you, Kim Wonpil?"

"'94," Wonpil giggled out. Dowoon's eyes rose from their place on the ground with hope that Wonpil would ask him his age. "And you," the newcomer turned to him once more, finally, glancing him over in interest... FINALLY... "And you, sweetie?"

Dowoon's ears once again took on a heated red shade. He ignored the sounds of Sungjin hiding his laughter beside him and murmured out, "'95..."

Wonpil was shaking out his ankles by this time. "Ah, that must be so nice!"

"Mm..." Dowoon's ears flushed even more as crinkles took over Wonpil's deeply-smiling face. "Only... only s-sometimes..."

"Hahaha -- You're so cute!" Wonpil's smile grew when Dowoon sucked in a halted breath. "You remind me of the Yoon prince so so much, I don't know why... Maybe it's your ears... Or the way you talk..."

"You've met the Yoon prince, Kim Wonpil?" Sungjin questioned, a curious tilt to his head.

"Of course! My cousin I was talking about before is the youngest Kim princess -- Najee -- and I lived with her as a young child so I was always there when the royal Kims had over guests. And the Yoon prince came every summer; we would play all the time and we were really close! He was so, so funny and sweet, I miss him so much... See... when I turned twelve, I had to begin clergy training and left the palace. And I haven't seen him since." Wonpil paused for a moment to release a sigh and stretch his legs. "I really, really miss him; we were, like, sweethearts or whatever. And you remind me a lot of him, Yoo Dowoon. Even your name is similar..."

Flashes of memories snagged Dowoon's racing mind, and, "That's cuz I am him," passed quietly from between his unsuspecting lips. Wonpil's head raised to look at him and Dowoon hurriedly slapped his palm over his mouth when he realized what he had just said.

Sungjin's eyes blew up like lanterns. "You're-- Yer jokin', kid... Tell me... Telme yer jok'n--"

Wonpil, on the other hand, tried to rise to his feet and instead fell on Dowoon when his wobbly legs hit the ground. Dowoon caught him and helped him stand. "So-- so that's why..." Wonpil carefully raised his hand to trace Dowoon's neck and snagged his finger on the chain the prince always kept around it. He lifted the chain from beneath the jumpsuit and held the ring it supported between his fingers. A contented sigh left his lips. "You-- You still have it?"

Dowoon pulled Wonpil closer to himself and leaned down to whisper in his ear, "'Course. Never take it off, just like you said. You've grown up so well, hyung..."

Wonpil snuggled into him, trembling arms carefully drawing up to settle on his wingbones in a soul-wrenching hug. "You too, Woonie..."

"Where's yours?" Dowoon spoke in Wonpil's ear once more, his voice still hushed.

Goosebumps spread over Wonpil's skin. "I kept it in my shoe so the monks wouldn't find it."

Dowoon let out a chuckle and embraced his long-lost hyung more tightly. 

Sungjin's cough didn't bother either man a bit; their attention was on each other. "Ahem." Dowoon and Wonpil just kept hugging and whispering to each other and giggling together. Sungjin sighed. He'd have to get used to this, wouldn't he... "You guys... Aich, quit being so lovey-dovey out in the open an' listen ta me!" He rubbed his temples in exhaustion. "Ya got any experience with fixin' things, Kim?"

Dowoon whispered out onto Wonpil's collarbone, "He taught me to dismantle stuff when we were small, and then we'd put it back together," then pulled away, one arm framing the still-weak man's waist to keep him from falling. "Why?"

Wonpil leaned his head on Dowoon's shoulder and shifted to better stand upright. "Yeah, I know how to fix things. I'm a bit rusty though -- there's not really much to fix around a monastery." His fingers brushed over Dowoon's ear and he looked at Sungjin with interest. "I'm also wondering why you're asking, Park Sungjin..."

Sungjin's face erupted with a smile. "It's because I have an opportunity for you two to stay together. I heard Woonie here's getting married to yer cousin, Kim Najee, tomorrow, right? And you'll get taken back to the monastery if ya get found, right, Kim Wonpil?" Both men dejectedly nodded, while Sungjin only smiled wider. "And that's where I come in to save both yer asses. Ma cousin's invited me to go traveling overseas with him as a mechanic, so long as I can help him gather a small crew of suitable people as assistants...." His hands raised to proudly smooth over his eyebrows. "Ya see what I'm gettin' at?"

Dowoon dragged Wonpil with him and they both hugged Sungjin with a feverish ferocity. "HYUUUUnG!!!!!" they both screamed out.

Sungjin was nearly crushed between them and his fist made contact with Dowoon's bicep. "Yah!! Let me go, I'll choke!!"

The two younger men drew back and Wonpil began to fuss over the whining Dowoon's bruising arm. Sungjin sighed to himself. Now he'd be flanked with two clingy couples instead of only one... What did he get himself into?.. But as he watched the reunited boys fawning over each other and softly pressing lips to one another's skin, giggling, his heart softened and he thought that maybe it was worth all the coming trouble to be surrounded by such pure happiness.

**

goodbye, my nonexistent ability to write, hello squirrel standing in the snow outside my window oof

just for reference, this is the prompt i wrote for myself before starting this story:

in which dowoon is a prince whose arranged marriage is coming up. the cousin of the bride (out of a desperation to get out of clergy studies) steals along with her.

XD idk wut i was thinking, but this is so stupid lmao