"Cut me through my skin
Through the heart, you went right in
I fell for every word you said
I come here but I can't stay"

Love&War - Yellow Claw

🔱

Leila waded in her shell-formed bath, tugging on grapes and plopping them into her mouth. Washing each bite down with a simple sip of white wine.

A gift from Hoseok, for their 'unpleasant meeting' the day before with Aera.

Jimin was right, the joyful man did indeed have the best agricultural skills. He came baring fruitful gifts, so juicy and large were hard to come by, and offering glorious wine. The alcohol was exquisite compared to their sunless versions, which were often bitter.

But this, what she held in her wet hands, was what she imagined the finer things in life were like with the sun still shining.

The girl had started to understand what happiness was. Her favorite scents swirled around her, and no annoyingly frustrating men had bothered her. She couldn't help but giggle to herself, imagining the look on Taehyung's face as she theatrically moaned out all of his friend's names. There was a fluttering in her chest, an easy smile on her face. And she couldn't stop humming a pretty tune from her homeland.

Happiness, she recognized for herself, stemmed from bruising men's egos. And grapes. In all their tantalizing forms.

Contentment was much more pleasing than being forced to train everyday. Talking about different ways to stab someone with a knife, and figuring out just how to bend the light to make sharp as a blade. A simple bath adorned with petty amusement was becoming something she enjoyed.

A hobby. For herself, that wasn't reading. She felt a bubbling in her chest, a little shake of delight.

Yet, her mood darkened. Thinking of all the years she had been kept from this simple moment of doing nothing but living.

She remembered one evening with her sisters. They had been in their separate rooms away from her. Leila had been restless all day, and she didn't know why. She had come up with a plan to leave her rooms and ask her sisters for a meaningless item, just so she could get away from routine.

Leila, while being the middle child, had her own room. This had always been explained to be for the sake of her burgeoning and sometimes erratic magic.

It had made sense then. To be kept away.

Though that night in particular, the wind through her window was a little cold. The sky, a little more dark. And while her mother and father offered no comfort, and at 13 years old sometimes she felt the weight of loneliness though she never knew it's absence. That loneliness was only her affliction to bare.

The princess had walked to their door. She paused, quiet as any predator. Like she had been taught by Elder Fareena. Pressing her ear to the yellow wood, feeling the echo of its form. And there, a noise. Two noises.

Leila had been ostracized for so long, that she barely recognized the sound. But indeed, it was laughter. It shocked her. Hearing it. Something she had not been privy to. It was distracting. A moment, where her life seemed to not revolve around her curse.

She wanted to see why her sisters were laughing. And she would find out, tonight.

What could be the harm in trying?

The princess moved back, opening the latch to their door and peeking her head in. She spotted her sisters giggling, the elder resting on her knees. The youngest, splayed on her stomach and trying to muffle her snorts.

Leila thought she sounded like a pig at the time.

She waited. Waited until they noticed her presence. Which they did eventually, the door creaking.

Azita, her older sister, sat straighter. The smile disappearing off her face, a more serious expression taking hold. Leila never really found her older sister to be pleasant to look at. Her hair was lighter than the rest of them, her cheeks sallow. The darkness of her eyes swallowed her whole face, like two tiny black holes in the night sky. She always had a piercing scowl on her face, from the day Leila had been born. Rarely speaking to the girl, unless she was delivering a message to her from their Elders.

Setareh, their younger sister was flower in comparison. If Leila was the moon, and Azita the sand beneath their feet, she was everything in between. Her hair was the deepest black, just like their mother's. Her eyes were jewels of various shades of gold and amber. She was always dressed in shades of pink. Lively, round, and though Leila did not interact with her often, she did not scowl.

Leila cared for scowling as much as she cared for anything else of no use to her.

"Can I borrow a comb?"

Blank stares met her. Confusion. A little bit of fear. The last time Leila had spoken to either of them had been seven months prior. Azita kept looking around her, past her into the hallway. Probably looking for which guard would be spying, waiting to tell her parents that she had failed in her duties to conceal their humanity. As the eldest, it had been her responsibility to keep her fated sister away from them. Away from knowing the truth.

Then, satisfaction. A more sinister look spread across the older girl's face. There were no adults around.

"What, you can't have one made of rubies and diamonds conjured up for you right now?" The girl asked, her eyes widened in faux sympathy.

At age 14, maybe it had been awful to think that she had been born one year away from glory. From pride. From the ultimate honor from your family and territory. A meager year away from the black sun.

Leila didn't understand then. This was before she had taken up to reading. Before she was given cues that words did not always mean what they meant. Especially when the person saying them felt differently. Sometimes, kindness was the sticky glue that trapped the mouse in its snare.

"No, that would be impossible. What about you Setareh?" Leila responded literally, stepping in further into the room.

Not knowing the previous had been invitation for her to leave, as it remarked on her detached, yet special upbringing.

The youngest bowed her head. Her sister so full of laughter, was now meek. Intimidated by the sister who did not offer a smile.

What use was there of the tiring expression? Leila could not find a reason at the time. People never smiled at her either way. Only glanced in reverence.

Azita clicked her tongue, her tone droning, "Daughter of the night, always needing to get her way. Never being told no. Are we being commanded?"

Leila did not often have to command anyone. Her rank granted her many things. While she had been offered the title of princess due to her blessings of power, her family were simply nobles before her birth. Their last rulers had died about 100 years after the black sun. It was with her birth, and her birth alone they rose above. Moving to into the ancient castle that crested upon a rocky hill, and taking the titles of king and queen of Persia under the nose of Tenebris.

Her sisters had been given nothing. Not when they showed no signs of magic.

"No."

"Then we will not give you anything."

Leila did not know what to do now. It was still silent, and she wasn't sure on how to respond. Her sister's looked at each other, one rolling her eyes. They tried not to giggle. The middle child did not know what either of them found to be funny.

'You are not one of us'. It would've been so much easier if her older sister had just said it.

She. did. not. know.

For in her lack of emotions, she did not know malice. She'd never met the snarled feeling.

"Okay. Then can you tell me what you were talking about before I came in?" The brunette had asked simply, folding her hands in front of her. A child with the mannerisms of the older woman who trained her.

Azita scowled once more, her eyes sinking in shadow, "You were spying?"

"No." Leila lied.

Her sister got louder, her smile making an appearance, pushing aside the scowl. Or maybe it was a grim mixture of both.

"You know what would happen if I told Elder Fareena? Father would punish you."

"Don't."

This time, Leila's words towards her sister were a command. A show of power. It slid across the night, onto the bed, and in-between them. Widening the gap that was already cavernous between the girls. One that Azita knew she had to abide by. The eldest, and still she had to bend to the child born after her.

Leila wondered, if she had taken her sister's bullying that night, if maybe they could've accepted her one day. Siblings fight and argue. Her use of her title only reaffirmed in their child minds that they were indeed different.

Her older sister's smile turned sour, Leila wanted to look away from her unpleasant eyes. Their discomfort and their foreign feeling.

"You know what mother named me as Leila? Azita. Freedom. It is something you will never know the feeling of."

Azita had felt proud of herself, for saying it. Even as her younger sister made no expression, no movement at being wounded by the words.

No, the princess dropped her head to the side. Taking in the strange way her sister's hands balled into fists, shaking. Not knowing of her anger.

The princess mulled at her sister's words, "Leila Mahnaz. It will be sung in song around fires, in peoples' beds, at weddings, and at great feasts. Reliving the princess who brought back the sun. Who would sing of Azita the free? Who will remember her for her independence and her beetle eyes? No one."

It hurt Azita more, because the girl had known Leila. Known her despite their separation. Leila did not say this because she thought it would hurt her older sister. She did not know what hurt was, at thirteen.

She just thought it to be true.

Leila didn't understand it then. They had not spoken directly again for two years after that incident. The burning way her older sister looked at her, as if disgusted. Like Leila was just not natural to this world. The way her younger sister down cast her gaze, because she barely even knew the girl born three rotations before her. The heat and the shame and the detachment.

The way Azita never wanted to meet her own irises again.

Of all that Leila knew herself to be, a fool was not one.

But ignorance made her blind. To how her older sister had protected the youngest. How they talked all night, giggles preventing them from sleep. How they held hands at her Latheera, and cried with happiness that they would not be pulled apart.

Love, and connection. Familial bond. Things she never took part in, and was not given.

Her family did not only not care for her. They hated her.

She was simply a piece of the prophecy to them, nothing more. A reminder that they weren't seen as special, and would be forgotten one day. A flipped coin, because they would've never wanted the responsibility she had had been given the chance.

Envious, and grateful that they were not the daughter of the moon.

Look at where I am now.

A castle, grander than she could've ever imagine. Married to a prince that albeit had thorns, was a rose to look at. Even if this would end in her death, oh how her name would sound beautiful.

Her thirteen year old self, albeit lacking malignant intentions, was at least not wrong about that.

At age twenty-two, Azita's cruelty had just now dawned on her. Freedom seemed of little consequence then, because she did not know the taste of it. As the water turned tepid, she mused. If she had been given a chance to be born one day earlier, would she? To give up a chance at having an immortal legacy, and receive the freedom to love and be loved?

To forfeit the hymns, poems, and ballads to have a human bond? A connection? To not watch her family's amusement die down as soon as she walked into their space? To have her mother give her a nickname, like she had did her sisters.

'Zita'

'Seta'

Petals of love had fallen in the garden around her, and they were simply seeds she did not understand how to sow. A shortening, was not made out of ease. But a call, a song from the heart of a mother who loved those of her womb.

What would her mother had called her if her blood did not run silver? Leila wondered.

Ley? Too simple.
Lala? No, too whimsical for a serious child.
Maybe Mah, half of her middle name.

But one could not rip her duty away from her name. She would remain the pride of the moon, even if her mother had taken three letters into her embrace.

And what then? If her parents had shown her emotions, would she have left to this kingdom as she was supposed to? Would she have wanted to give up a life so full of happiness? Would leaving her sisters' have felt like the proverbial knife already driving through her chest?

Maybe she would've died here the first day instead of being reborn.

Would she have been so willing to kill a man who had not harmed her, for three hundred year old fading words on fraying parchment?

Leila did not know. As much as her intelligence was one of her many gifts, her knowledge expansive, she still knew very little. She never would.

Once again, her heart squeezed. An empty feeling filling her stomach, her eyes pricking with salty moisture. She touched her own cheek, feeling its heat from the bath. The young woman smoothed the tear between two fingers. Gone.

And yet the apprehension remained.

Sadness. Along with envy, offered the most pain with its truth. It's capriciously barbed vulnerability.

It wounded her more than anger. Than happiness. Than anything. Because sadness longed for consolation by changing the past. And with all her blessed blood, and her other gifts, she could not undo time.

A knock sounded from the door, startling the her out of her crippling thoughts. Her mind raced, preparing for the worst. Not knowing whether to expect a cold prince or a seething advisor. Before she could begin to stand up and dry off, a slight female voice sounded.

Thank the skies.

"Hello, miss?"

"Yes, come in."

The door opened and shut swiftly. Leila turned her head, looking out through the purple mesh curtain to see a tall woman come in. She had dark, reddish brown hair and tied it back into a slick bun and fair skin. Her long black uniform dress had buttons from the frilled neck, all the way down to the bottom of her skirt.

The girl waited for command, but Leila did not feel in the mood to order anyone around.

"Please, help me dry off."

The girl nodded from behind the mesh, open the material that divided them. At closer inspection, she could see the stranger was pretty in a soft way. Her eyes were angled down, no line on her lids. Her face was heart shaped, her smile kind. It was just refreshing to not see another man.

The servant kindly averted her eyes and Leila stepped up from the bath. She stepped into the towel that she was holding, thanking her as she wrapped it around her body. When the princess turned to move to her bedroom, the servant followed closely behind.

Leila waited beside her bed expectantly, her brows lifted in question. She did not want to scare the servant away.

'I mean no offense, but who the fuck are you?' would've deterred the strongest of heart.

As if noticing awaiting expression and stance, Lily's eyes widened. Her head bowing slightly.

"I'm sorry, I should've introduced myself. My name is Lily. I've been asked to help you, just this week. The men are going away for important negotiations after the third hour, so advisor Park will not be able to aid you. They will be back in two days time."

They were leaving? For captors, they surely offered her too much leniency. It was also a blunted shock that Taehyung had not told her at all. Not even when they ran into each other the night before.

"Oh, right." Leila covered her ignorance with a wistful smile.

When inside, a storm brewed within her chest. Of course her husband was leaving without telling her himself. A simple offensive move towards her that showed she would not be apart of any of his decisions.

Lily did not notice her disgruntled disposition, or pretended not to. Either way the princess was grateful. Instead, the servant went to her closet. Running her hands across the fabric and landing on a deep, midnight blue dress.

She turned back to Leila with an encouraging grin, "Taehyung's second favorite color, and the color's of our house. A perfect way to send him off for the- their trip."

The princess clasped her towel with one hand, the other propping herself up on the bed. Hmm? Lily seemed to know some personal things about the prince. And, of course, that little mishap in the middle of her sentence that begged for someone to question where the men were truly going.

And what exactly they were doing.

A crystal lattice of her curiosity bloomed. She did not know where it began, and how it could end. But still it would've killed her to not trek across its expanse, whether it got her in trouble or not.

Leila had told herself many a time her wish to know more about the prince was for the sake of the curse.

And every single time, it was a lie.

Looking at Lily, at her sweet face. The openness of her brown eyes. The secrets would be easy to crack open, like roasted chestnuts under hungry fingers. For a second, she was reminded of her youngest sister. Just as much of a stranger to her as this servant was.

Still, it offered her comfort. A warmness that would charm.

Leila placed on her underclothing and Lily unlaced the blue dress. The princess eyed her, walking to the mirror and standing in front of it. Staring at herself as the servant dropped down, so Leila could step into the dress.

The princess did so, schooling her face into one of a smitten bride.

"Tell me about the prince? We have both been so busy, it has been hard to truly know about each other. I haven't even met his parents."

Lily met her eyes, lifting her bodice more gently than Jimin ever dared. She settled the fabric, letting it rest on her hips. Her face molding into an expression of sorrow.

"The prince is alone here. His mother and father died when he was newly turned 18. It was a rough time for him."

There were two things, Leila collected in this moment.

That this ruling family was beloved by their court members, even their servants. It means that despite their strong hold on this kingdom, they treated their subjects with respect. Enough that when they died, Taehyung remained heir. Enough, that no one wished to change the status quo and report them to the Tenebris capital for their quasi monarchy. Just like Leila's territory. And, like she suspected from Taehyung's proclamations, they kept their own culture and traditions and liked it.

And, that maybe Taehyung had been as lonely as she.

"Both of them? I can't imagine how horrible that was. Do you mind answering how it happened?" This time, she did not have to act.

Lacking parents was a wound that festered and never truly healed. Whether alive or dead, they were still absent. Forced to grow up a bit faster than the rest. Holding up the burden of the sky by himself.

Lily sighed sadly, "Four years ago, of natural causes. They were a bit older than your average parent."

The servant pulled on her bodice ribbons, bringing the dress up. Her mouth lifted at the mention of them being older. Dimidium blood, Leila speculated. People with magic tended to live longer than those who did not inherit the gift.

Leila started slowly, "Is that why Taehyung is so..."

Closed off. Cold. Unaffected. As if he was the cursed born who had been told emotions did not exist, not the other dreaded way around.

"So?" Lily blinked, waiting for context.

Was she being mocked? His presence could've turned a room into a graveyard of ice. But it seemed like Lily admired him, so she kept her line of questioning without too much judgement. She didn't need the girl to tell Taehyung she had been prying into intimate details of his.

"You know, stoic?"

"Can I speak freely?" The taller woman questioned, as Leila nodded slightly, unsure if she had treaded too far.

Leila's eyes connected with Lily's as she tied the rest of the ribbon into a bow, "You may. Always."

Lily nodded, not missing the weight of her statement. The allowance to tell her her opinions and thoughts without repercussions.

"He's duty bound, a strong leader. Practical. The court loves him. At a young age, he had to rule an entire kingdom living up to his father's legacy and keep everyone-" The young woman stopped, nervously laughing, "My point is, is that he's a good man. Have you noticed he goes by prince, despite being the only royal here?"

She is hiding something. But this was good. Her words poured out of her easily. If their conversations continued, the servant would eventually slip up entirely. But strategy left her, as her natural affliction for the mystery of the prince arose.

If he had no parents, and no predecessors, he should be king.

"Yes."

"It's because he was born a prince. He had no desire to rise above that. He wants his subjects to feel closer to him, despite already being elevated in rank."

Her chest warmed in a way she wished it would not. There it was. The possibility that she, and she alone would be the only receiver of his distaste. That his people saw a person she would never find.

That the only reason she was not dead, was not due to morality or kindness. But that of a love for his people.

Because she was, different to them. Jeongguk's previous warning glared in her mind.

"I understand." She answered back, voice quieter than before.

Lily started to pull at her hair. Her muted eyes searching up and down her face through the mirror. Who knew what exactly she found in the princess' face, as she started to plait two pieces of her dark locks.

"What I've noticed, is that when the prince is frightened, he becomes cold. When his parents died, he did not cry. Nor did he allow anyone to speak their names. Like he wanted to distance himself from the pain and the hurt." Her voice trailed off, letting her eyes flicker back to the princess.

Leila frowned into her reflection. Taking in the glint of silver, contracting like a wolf in winter around the blackness of her pupils.

Unnatural.

"You think he's frightened of me?"

She did not know why it bothered her so deeply. Why she felt her skin crawl and become hot, a thick wool blanket in blazing heat. The prospect would've made her feel formidable, if said about anyone else.

He is me. Just the same. Dimidium, and doom bound.

The young woman coughed nervously, wondering if it was safe to continue speaking. The princess nodded, urging her as the servant pulled the two braids back, twisting it into a bun as the rest of her long wavy hair hung around her shoulders. But excitement of gossip won over fear of an uncharted royal's potential wrath.

"You didn't see yourself the first night. It was absolutely mental. Like what the deities are described as. You're powerful Leila," Lily finished passionately, meeting her eyes once again in the mirror.

Sincerity apparent. Those who did not wield power had an uncanny privilege to be genuine.

"He knows that I won't hurt him." Leila said, scoffing.

There was no point in killing him, if it was not what the prophecy called for. She wad forced to keep his life, since he had to be the one to kill her for the curse's sake.

There was a third reason, she was reluctant to even admit to herself.

Lily's mouth quirked at the sight of Leila's pout. A knowing smile of one woman to another.

"I highly doubt that's what he's so fearful of."

The princess turned, bewildered and wanting to know what she meant. But the servant spoke of it no longer. Instead, she directed the girl to the chamber doors, and told the black armored guard to take her to the front of the palace doors.

Leila looked back as she was led down the hallway, Lily waving her a mischievous goodbye before disappearing around the corner. The princess huffed, continuing with ease to walk forward.

She needed to talk to her again. If not for more information, but because she provided entertaining company.

Her irritated mood not only remained, but heightened as she made it to her destination. The guard let her move away from his arm, paused in front of the large heavy iron doors riddled with serpents, ivy, and fire.

The doors were open to the cold, forcing her to wrap her arms around herself. And she watched, as the seven nobles added more items to their packs, and carriages. Namjoon, Jin, and Yoongi were near their roped up horses, feeding them before the long journey. The rest were lifting heavy trunks into the back of the carriage.

The girl felt winded as she fought the weather. Not used to breathing in cold air, as the temperature choked her and oxygen fought its way into her lungs. The feeling worsened as she made eye contact with Jimin, who had been placing several types of knives in a belt around his waist. He was dressed in all black, the cold not seeming to affect him as he bore no coat. The circles of purple pooled under his eyes, darker than days before.

She waited, for maybe an insult. Perhaps, something violent. Something. Instead, he offered no expression at all. He just turned, as if she had not been there.

It was expected. What was not expected, was her regret.

Before she could try to talk to him, Taehyung appeared from behind the carriage. The brunette tried to ignore the way her heart leapt in her throat as he did so, the cold losing its frost. He was talking to Jeongguk, dressed in riding leathers. Turned to the side, his profile was stark, even in the night. Jaw straight as he spoke the other noble. The blackness of his hair curled at his ears, licking his neck. A small hooped earring shaking as he spoke. His pants were tighter in style, and hugged his thighs and shaped calves. His black shirt was linen, and open at its collar in a V, showing off golden skin and tanned forearms. His hands rested on his narrow hips, silver rings glinting against the moon.

Leila breathed in. But she lost it, somewhere between her lungs and her heart. Unable for it to make its way out.

It came out in a rush, as their attention moved to her. The girl had not realized how close she had gotten to the pair, distracted.

Jeongguk was in similar dress, his expression careful. Looking between her, and the royal beside him. Taehyung laughed through his nose, telling his companion he needed to speak with her alone. The girl waited, expecting Jeongguk to resist. Instead, he nodded once before walking off without a protest.

Leila trailed him with her eyes, hesitating until he was gone, before making eye contact with the prince, "Husband, can I at least say goodbye before you run away?"

The slight was there. Accusing him of leaving his problems in the night.

But Taehyung was not easily baited. He leaned against the carriage so his back was pressed to it. With a sigh, his profile was now in her direct line of sight. She tried not to follow along the sharpness of his jaw, as he looked back at the sky.

"Are you sure? You seemed quite busy last night. You might be too exhausted to send me off." He finished, meeting her gaze unabashedly.

I am not sure I'll ever get used to him looking at me.

The prince's ember eyes glittered, his mouth lifting at the sides as he took in her unamused expression. The revelation that his easy, albeit arrogant tone, from yesterday had remained. A surprise in its own, from the man who a couple days before stared through her like she was a phantom. But she quickly recovered, enjoying the slight banter. Wondering if he genuinely was not phased by her actions, or if he was simply as good an actor as she.

"I had a very vexing infliction, your highness. Did it keep you awake?"

"No, I slept quite soundly in fact."

"How so? With all my distress?" The princess emphasized the last word, looking up through her lashes at him.

Taehyung pretended to contemplate, tongue wetting his lips, as he furrowed his dark brows, "It sounded a bit forced, don't you think? You sound much more needy moaning my name."

Leila bit her tongue, tasting the sweet tang of blood. Taehyung straightened his stance, but the self satisfied expression never left his face. Not even once, as once again true laughter left him. His teeth, white against the blue night turned his skin.

She made a mistake once again in her anger, intaking a large breath as he leaned forward. Accidentally scenting his delectable scent that was manly and mouth watering all at once.

"Have a safe trip, prince. Wouldn't want anything harming you out in the wilds of Tenebris. Would we?" The preoccupied woman managed to respond back, baring her teeth in a dutiful smile that did not reach her eyes.

Wanting to throw him into the carriage and ship him off far, far away from her. If not for anything but her own fracturing sanity. Because why had her eyes found his lips, and wished to stay, in a moment like this after being exposed of one-sided desire once again?

Someone who had lost their mind.

"Princess, I like you a lot more when your mouth is not occupied with lies." Taehyung's night voice melted against her, drizzling dark chocolate across her. Both sweet and bitter, as he referred to what she had said to him the day before about her dreams.

Dark amusement flitted across his body. His hands moved to his pockets, perfectly relaxed. A statue of marble, now like the waves next to them. Just as powerful in their fluidity. Yet somehow, so much more dangerous.

Had she breathed? Had her heart beaten? She did not know.

This. Whatever he was doing now, he needed to stop. Because it was too hard to tell who was the queen chess piece on the board, when he had thawed. Only a bit, and his words were mocking and not kind. They should've hurt her feelings.

Instead, she wanted him to abandon the trip. To show him just how occupied her mouth could get.

The thought shamed her, coloring her cheeks. So instead, she buried it with rejection. With all the dislike and detestation she could muster. The princess curled her fingers, finding it hard to move them. Wondering how her palms had become pools of sweat in the frigidity.

Her voice was as edged, yet fragile as the frost, "Fine. I hope you leave, and you don't come back. Is that better?"

"Much." He answered sardonically, before facing her completely, his form a shadow against the moonlight, "Please. Do not stray from the rules I've given you while I'm gone."

Taehyung looked down at her, unafraid of her rebuttal. Blocking out the winds that whipped around them. This, was not part of the game. But a serious plea.

Leila swallowed, stubborn will rising, "How will you know if you're not here?"

His eyes narrowed, tragic playfulness peeking back at the surface.

"I'll know, Leila. One last thing."

"What?" She questioned, pulling her arms tighter around herself.

The prince looked her up and down, noticing her shivering. The tone of just wishing to go back inside, to the warmth and flame. Unused to the abrasiveness he'd been born to, susceptible to the elements.

The man neared even closer, his head dipping to her ear. Leila's breath hitched as he spoke into her, a quiet and yet very public proclamation. Cutting strands of the thin yet complex web she'd weaved, to catch anyone trying to get past it.

With a single sentence, she was done for. The prince would make sure of it.

"I like you wearing our house colors. You look bewitching. If you take a look around, it also pisses every other man with power off, and what is more pleasurable than that?"

*******
Taehyung

It was curiosity. That's all.

She, a mirror held up to him. In only that her circumstances were the same, and a power bestowed. Destined and left to fate after being abandoned.

A wine that he couldn't drink.

How could he quench his harrowing thirst?

After years of advisory. After countless revisiting of the curse. After promising his father on his goddamned death bed.

Would the prince falter?

If she kept her hatred of him, everything would remain in order.

Relief would have to come in other forms, he lamented. As he spotted a deer, agile in the snowy wood. It's hesitation, soon to become its weakness.

Yet Leila, the daughter of night, did not leave his mind. His , not even as he ripped out the throat of the animal and drank the redness of its soul. He drank, and drank, and drank. Until the animal fell into the coldness with a dead crunch. Eyes glassy under the full moonlight, it's mouth left parted with unshed cries.

His satisfaction at being filled with blood was both hollow and paltry.

No, she remained clear in his mind.

The prince wiped the warm blood from his mouth, flicking it to the snow. Pondering if Leila had seen him, and new his truth, if she would run in the other direction. Screaming. As he was the monster she had known him to be, the first night she arrived at his kingdom.

Though he knew deep down, she would not run. She would not even be afraid.

And that, is what unsettled him more above it all.

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(A/N: a little tease at the end.

Can't give any of you too much though, right?

WHoop whoop more backstory on both Taehyung and Leila, how fun. Trust me Jimin is still important, he is just in his bag rn.

Okay everyone so one theory has been revealed, but there is soooo much more to it. This will not be your average vamp fic. So please

Drop your theories here!