I like storms. They let me know that even the sky, screams sometimes too.

You touch me and it's almost like we knew
That there will be history between us two
We knew someday that we would have regrets
But we just ignored them the night we met
We just dance backwards into each other
Trying to keep our feelings secretly covered
You touch me and it's almost like we knew
That there will be history
-There's No Way by Lauv and Julia Michaels.

THIS COMMISSION WAS TOO EASY. Ambrosia had already met three florists, two caterers and a few electricians. Her job was practically done!

It was barely the end of June. She had about six months left to do a task that would take three. She needed more work.

"Yoongi!" She yelled into the intercom, lying upside down on her new bed. She couldn't help but admire how pretty her toenails looked after the mani-pedi Jin gave her.

"Yes ma'am?" her secretary rushed inside, clutching an arsenal of things she would normally ask for. Teabags, an extra stylus, a spare phone charger, survey sheets, copies of contracts with various partners, teacups.

"Get me another commission," she ordered, eyes fixated on her tab.

"Couldn't have prepared for that now," Yoongi sighed to himself, "But, Miss-"

"No buts. I need a wedding."

"Yes, Miss Kang."

She rolled over onto her stomach, staring at her fingernails, once again, compliments of Kim Seokjin. White and matte. He was really spoiling her lately. She was glad to have finally found a friend.

Pampering aside, she was livid. She hadn't received an offer in the longest time. Normally, her inbox would be flooded with prospective commissions, but now, it was empty. She had a stinking feeling Yoongi was the cause of that.

Boredom was her worst nemesis.

Whenever she was alone, that stinging feeling of emptiness would return, like there was something that was missing from her, but she didn't know what.

Her heart would scream, pulling itself apart along with her entire chest. The void would begin to eat away at her mind, slowly drowning her in a sickening numb feeling.

She hated it.

And that's part of the reason why she worked her ass off all day, all night.

If there's no time to breathe, there's no time to get bored, right?

Tossing a few loose pieces of her hair over her shoulder, she ran her tongue over her teeth.

Her mind autopiloted back to a week ago.

His broken eyes.

The Queen of Sykaria.

Kangmin's taunt.

Paint.

That scent that drove her senses into overdrive and made all her hairs stand on end.

It somehow lessened the emptiness.

She needed more. Desperately.

She got up with a start.

In a matter of seconds, she was outside the prince's bedroom, hand poised to knock.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

"Jeongguk?"

"It's me."

"Come on in."

She poked her head in, eyes wide like a little child's. But the sight that greeted her, left her thoughts anything but childlike.

He stood in the middle of his room, black trousers taunt on his thighs, an unbuttoned white shirt barely covering his abdomen. Her entire body froze as he turned to the side, ran a hand through his hair and proceeded to fasten the buttons.

One. By. One.

Smooth chest hard and creamy, begging to be kissed. A sloping swan-like neck disappearing under a sharp inclined jaw.

She couldn't move. She couldn't speak.

Once his sensual performance was over, his shirt was buttoned up, the last two left open as if to mock her.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" He asked, adjusting his collar. Not like he needed to anyways, for it was perfectly ironed and starched.

Her jaw might as well have been on the floor by now, but that wasn't all. She looked up to his face, the softness in his crescent eyes making her heart pang for their time together. Hair dripping on his forehead, the moisture making it seem deeper and him, somehow even more alluring. His candy-apple lips shiny and luscious enough to be bitten, lay in an effortless coquettish set.

"Uh," she mentally cussed herself out for nearly drooling, "I just, uh-I need-Do you have a studio?"

"For my paintings? Yeah, but why the sudden interest-"

"I need you," she blurted out, staring at his lollipop-tinted lips, "I mean, I need you to show me the paintings."

"Is it for the coronation?" He strode over to the couch, inviting her to take a seat. She complied.

"No... But I need it. I can't explain. I just-I need to see them," she fumbled, rubbing her forehead.

"I won't ask you to. Let's go," he stood up and held a hand out to her, an action he'd done every single time they had to go anywhere. She'd always turned it down. But not this time. She slid her arm through the loop of his, making him raise an eyebrow in confusion.

They set off on a path Jimin could follow even with his eyes closed. His insides were bubbling in curiosity, but he kept mum.

At the entrance of the vault, he punched in the code and cranked open the heavy door. They walked in, and right off the bat, Ambrosia's pupils dilated.

Countless canvases propped up on white walls, now marred with colour. Each was a piece of art, a reflection of emotions too confusing and powerful to be put in words.

She approached each one trying to absorb whatever they wanted to say.

To the young royal, this room was Elysium. It was his escape from the torture of living as the second prince. From reality. Reality where Kangmin would become king of his beloved nation. Reality where Taehyung was no more. Reality where he didn't have a mother.

Or rather, reality where he killed both of them.

No one, not even Jin or Jeongguk was allowed in here, forget his father.

So why was he freely allowing Ambrosia?

He couldn't understand why he said yes.

Jimin was far too bewitched with her facination to think about his past apprehension.

She was now in the process of carefully observing his most recently frequented room, slowly walking around. No, she didn't walk. She glid. It was as though her feet never touched the ground from under her olive toned full length dress. The brown buttons beginning at her throat and ending a few inches above the hem of the skirt somehow matched her open dark hair. She looked beautiful in her staple white suits, but colour brought out the goddess in her.

He realised that this was one of the rare times she wasn't struggling in atrociously long heels.

The room was well ventilated, with a lot of natural light. Her deep honey eyes gleamed like a field of corn under the direct sunlight. Illuminating her tan skin, a result of her mixed race.

They never really clicked pictures-even during their surreal month together-but he couldn't help it. She was looking at his art the way she would stare at delicate flowers. Caressing the strokes of paint like they were creamy petals.

He pulled out his phone and captured the sight in front of him-not like he needed to for this would be immortalised in his memory forever.

She was far too enraptured to notice. All the frustration she had been harbouring in her fragile body for years now was slowly melting away. The paintings brought her serenity. The whole room smelled exactly like her definition of Elysium. Turpentine, acrylic polymer, canvas and paint. Utopia.

One caught her eye as she was about to enter another room.

"Is that one incomplete?" she pointed to a canvas possibly taller than her, propped up against the far wall. She couldn't make sense of it.

Numerous faces, each contorted in different forms of agony and suffering splattered in red on the cloth. Shrieking, moaning, wailing.

It didn't speak to her the way others did. It screamed.

All she could see was red. Rivulets of magenta running through burnt orange. White and gold accents adding an elegant touch to the neverending crimson.

She came closer to inspect the prince's handicraft. As though he'd painted in anger, the knife strokes were almost powerful enough to penetrate the thick canvas. It was too abstract, too random.

Holding a single finger up, she slowly traced the indentation from as high up she could reach to the bottom. It seemed to be a slash across the centre.

"Step away," Jimin barked, startling her. He seemed to realise that his tone was too harsh, eyes drooping in the process. Without meeting hers, he said, "I mean, leave that one. Come, I'll show you the one I did of Ithaca."

Still shocked at his sudden order, she slowly returned to him, following him around the paint-splattered room to another set of paintings.

In this chamber, she forgot the red painting.

This room was bright cerulean, like the sky they'd shared so many smiles under. Emerald, like the lagoons they'd splashed about in. Fuchsia, like the flowers they'd lived among.

This was Ithaca. This was what they'd lived and breathed.

She wanted to cuddle up in a blanket and stare at the star studded midnight ceiling all day.

In a blanket with the prince, of course, but she'd never admit that.

"Are you feeling better now?" Jimin asked, referring to her uneasy conduct earlier.

"Mhm. You have a really beautiful painting style," she mumbled in response, still mesmerised by the intricate ripples painted on the wall.

"Thank you," he smiled.

Looking over at his warm eyes, her cold heart melted. She wanted him to open up to her. Ever since that day in front of The Oriole when he practically broke down in her arms, she was adamant on knowing why. Except, she didn't know how to open that can of worms.

"So, you paint a lot, huh?" Ambrosia asked, somehow deeming that as a good way to keep the conversation going.

"Yeah."

"Seems fun."

"Yeah. It's like an outlet, you know? When things get too much," he opened a closet-one she noticed he had in each room of his studio-and pulled out a paint-stained apron. Putting it on, he picked up a brush resting on a palatte beside the painting of a lagoon. He began dabbing a few white spots here and there, bringing the ripples in the clear water to life.

She could recognise his hand actions. Twisting and turning the angle of the brush to get a bunch of different shapes from the bristles. Except, he was doing it a little differently.

Too much pressure, she thought. For such a fragile section of the painting. He'll ruin it.

"Uh, what are you doing?" She frowned, eyes narrowing

"Adding highlights. Why?" The prince's brow creased as he continued doing what irked Ambrosia so much.

"Cause you're doing it wrong."

"No, I'm not. My art teacher told me it's this way," he argued. His art teacher, Jin's mother, happened to be one of the most prestigious artists in Sykaria City. She was also his childhood nanny. There's no way she was wrong.

"But it is wrong," she continued to argue, tossing a lock of hair over her shoulder.

"Then show me how it's done," handing her the paintbrush, he shrugged. Miss know-it-all needed a reality check sometimes, especially considering her newfound friendship with the king of knowing- it-all, Kim Seokjin.

She stared at the brush as though it were a weapon of mass destruction. Or, you know, tickets to a Justin Bieber concert. Lethal for parents of pre-teens.

Either way, all the colour drained from her cheeks. Her golden skin went grey and eyes widened in fear, as though touching the handle of the brush would melt her skin right off.

"Ambrosia?" Jimin asked, grabbing her trembling hands, "What's going on?"

The paintbrush clattered to the floor, specks of pale blue and green splattering Jimin's trousers. Ambrosia wrestled her hands out of his grip, tangling them in her hair as she began to convulse violently.

She fell to the floor, knees hitting the wooden tiles with a thud. Screams echoed through the empty white room as she tugged at her frizzy locks. The world became a haze for her, the platinum-haired man's radiant face melting into a blur.

Her Adonis immediately clutched her arms, pulling her into his chest, "Shh, Ambrosia. It's okay, calm down. I'm here."

She shuddered and sobbed against his chest, fisting the linen shirt as through it was all she had left.

Softly mumbling words of consolation, Jimin kept brushing her tangled hair, allowing her to calm down at her own pace.

He couldn't understand what happened to the beautiful, strong woman he knew, but he was elated in some way. She did have a weak side. She was human.

But he didn't like it. Seeing her scream and claw at her cheeks in agony made his heart ache to take all her pain away.
She was breathing heavy now, hands still trembling as she shivered in his arms.

"Get-Get that brush away from me," she managed through shaky breaths. As though it were a reflex, he kicked the paint-soaked brush off to a corner, putting an arm around her to help her stand.

He could feel each and every one of her ribs as she stood up. Yoongi had, at some point, mentioned that she often forgot to eat while working. He felt strangely responsible for her self-touture.

"Let's get you to your room now, okay? I'll call your secretary," he rubbed her slouched shoulders, opening the door of the vault-cum-studio with his foot.

"No," she staggered, "Don't tell Yoongi anything."

"But isn't Yoongi-"

"Don't."

"Okay."

Somehow, they reached her room, Ambrosia still clinging on to her summer paramour's body for dear life. Her throat felt full, memories she'd so painfully stowed away, choking her physically.

She'd almost forgotten it. That accursed day. The day because of which she had to quit school and begin working. But she never blamed her mother. Only the circumstances.

Jimin lay her down, immediately rushing to pull her shoes off. He looked at her face, gleaming with sweat. Taking her cold hands, he nearly shuddered at the thought of what had happened the last time he did this for someone.

He suppressed them. For the millionth time in his life, he suppressed his guilt. Ambrosia is in pain, he thought. My Aphrodite. Now is not the time.

He brushed her hair out of her now-closed eyes. She looked so serene, so at peace. It was incredible how much someone so fragile-looking could truly endure. He wanted to know what drove the cool-as-a-cucumber Kang Ambrosia to a frenzy.

Sometimes, he wished she never left Greece. Their little bubble where only Aphrodite and Adonis thrived. That week he spent in a desolate hotel room after she left truly had him contemplating his life decisions. Should he just give everything up? It would be worth it.

Either way, he'd never get any real recognition being prince. Just stupid PR work.

He never understood why the people of Sykaria loved him when no administrative official thought of him as anything more than a miniscule roach. He was exactly all the tabloids said: the face of Sykaria.

He cupped Ambrosia's cheek, brushing her freckled skin with his thumb. He wondered when she got them. Her childhood and upbringing was still a mystery to him. Usually, he'd be able to pick apart a person within the first ten minutes of conversation. But with Ambrosia, he had no clue what made her the incredibly austere workaholic she was today. What drove her to work into the night without food or sleep.

But he'd never ask her. No one deserves to go through what Taehyung and his mother had to endure for loving him.

"My Aphrodite," he whispered, a tear falling onto her smooth forehead as he leaned over her sleeping body, "What happened to you?"

A knock sounded on the door, startling him, "Miss Kang? Can I come in?"

Oh, Yoongi, he thought. I need to get him out of here.

"Mr Min, Miss Kang is preoccupied right now. Can you come back later?" He called out from inside, knowing that the answer wouldn't be well-recieved.

"Preoccupied with what, Prince Jimin?" Came the skeptical reply that Jimin expected.

"Uh-Give me a minute, I'll come out," he used his sleeve to wipe his eyes and scrambled off the bed.

Opening the door, he smiled brightly at the frowning brunet. A smile he knew melted every Sykarian woman's heart. But Yoongi was no Sykarian woman.

"Where's Miss Ambrosia, Prince Jimin?" He folded his arms, shifting his weight to one side just like Jin whenever Jimin would hire a woman for the night.

"I've been meaning to speak to you for a while now. Mind if we get a cup of coffee?" He tried again, taking an approach more suited for someone who wasn't physically attracted to him.

"But Miss Kang-"

"Mr Min Yoongi. Shall we?" Holding a hand out, he shot the man a glare. It worked instantly. If there was one thing he was sure of, it was that his identity had value. No one wanted to get on his bad side.

Meekly nodding, Yoongi followed the silver-haired man into his study, barely a few feet away from the hidden entrance to his studio.

"Jeongguk, send two cups of coffee up to my study, please," the prince conveyed via intercom.

The machine buzzed in response, meaning that the buff secretary got the message.

Jimin, now determined on intimidating the twenty-six year old into silence took the cue to begin, "So, it's been about a month since you've started working on the coronation. When can I expect the first progress report?"

Yoongi stared at Jimin as though he had just asked him whether he was pregnant, "Progress report?"

"Does it sound that absurd to you?"

"No, but-"

"No buts. You're working on a commission for the Kingdom of Sykaria. For the royal family. I want a progress report on my desk every Monday," he ordered.

Yoongi simply nodded, tight lipped stare making his resemblance to a meek little kitten more uncanny.

Jeongguk knocked on the door, entering with a tray carrying two white cups of coffee. Even the cups seemed surreal to Yoongi. They were trimmed in gold, making him wonder whether it was indeed 24 carats.

"Have some. Sykaria is famous for its coffee, but I'm sure you already know that by now," Jimin pushed the tray forward, signalling for his secretary to leave the room. He drummed his fingers on the desk, a habit, Yoongi noticed Ambrosia was also beginning to develop.

A nod commenced once again, satisfying Jimin, for his work in silencing Yoongi was now done.

"Now that all of the business related stuff is done, what's up?" Jimin ran a hand through his hair, kicking his feet up onto his mahogany desk.

Yoongi gulped, "Nothing much, Your Highness."

"I assume you already know."

"Know what, Your Highness?"

"You know, about Ambrosia and me."

"Oh, you mean the one-month-stand?" He smacked his hand on the table, proud of himself for remembering. Then he saw Jimin's murderous expression, "I mean, no sir. I don't know."

"The one-month what?"

"I mean, uh-Greece and, uh-"

"So you do know?

"No sir."

"Okay, so you don't know?"

"No sir. I mean, yes sir."

Jimin chuckled, a tiny hand covering his eyes as his body shook with laughter, "I can see why Ambrosia likes you, Mr Min."

The brunet's eyes sparked at the sound of her name, again, making the prince unsure of his relationship with the woman who slept so peacefully in her bed.

"Why does she do that, though?" Jimin asked, sighing, "Work like-"

"-her life depends on it? Not a clue. Even when she's piss-drunk she wouldn't tell me a thing."

The silver-haired man's eyes narrowed, "Kang Ambrosia drinks with you?"

"Only once. After her first Christian wedding."

"Oh, okay. Well then, is there anything you and Ambrosia need?"

"Nothing, Your-Oh, yeah, Miss Kang was asking me to get her a new commission. Is there something you have in mind for that?" Yoongi asked, looking fed up himself.

"Another commission besides the biggest of the century?"

"She is crazy, Your Majesty," the shorter man shrugged.

"Wow. Well, I guess we have a few PR events lined up which Jeongguk is too tired to organise, so she can get started on them."

THE PRINCE OF SYKARIA snuck into the wedding planner's room, lithe as a cat. Silently, he tiptoed over to her bed, settling himself beside her.

It had been a few hours since she fell asleep, and Yoongi was beginning to get really antsy. Even Sykarian coffee can keep a person occupied for only this long.

"Hey, Ambrosia?" Jimin whispered, stroking her forehead slightly. Sunlight through the open windows lit up her brown hair, turning it into dripping caramel and honey. Her cheeks, supple and smooth, now marred with streaks of dried tears. He thought of rubbing those away, but didn't want to overstep his bounds, for he knew how scary Kang Ambrosia could truly be.

Putting a hand on her shoulder, he nearly gasped. He could feel every bone, every one of them screaming as she breathed.

No, he thought. So delicate and formidable at the same time. She doesn't need to be.

He was afraid of shaking it to wake her up. Instead, he whispered again, "Aphrodite."

Softly, like the last breath of a life well lived, her eyelids fluttered open. Pools of gold and diamond in her eyes made Jimin smile.

Her thoughts were hazier than ever, memories fazing her in and out of consciousness.

Staring up at the golden-skinned boy leaning over her, she almost smiled at the familiarity. Unable to recognise the face with mercury dripping into earthy eyes and skin smooth as milk and honey.

Her hands immediately rushed to smoothen her hair as soon as she realised.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I-Holy shit.

"What happened?" She snapped, heart beating a mile a minute.

"You fainted, Ambrosia. The paintbrush-"

"Oh God," she whispered, sheer fear replacing the pools of champagne in her eyes, "Don't-Oh God."

"Hey, it's okay. You're safe now," Jimin clutched her hands, pulling them to his chest.

"Okay, I need to just-" she scrambled off the bed, smoothening her dress down, "What time is it?"

"It's about lunchtime. Should I have Jeongguk send you your lunch here?" He backed off almost instantaneously.

"No, uh, I need to get back to work and there's this caterer who didn't return my call-"

"Your secretary took care of that."

"Then, then the light guys-"

"Done."

"And what about the flower arrangem-"

"Check, check and check, Ambrosia. You have a really smart secretary."

She glared at him. Kissing her teeth with a loud smack-Jin style-she sneered, "Do you have something planned, or what?"

Jimin smiled, the light bouncing off his teeth, "Your secretary told me that you were asking for another commission. You already know that I have to take care of the marketing and the PR work for my brother and father. All the events are usually planned by Jeongguk, but he's been overworking himself lately-"

"I'll do it," Ambrosia piped in.

"That's exactly what I was going to say," protested a slightly annoyed, yet amused Jimin.

But the golden-eyed brunette was too elated to care, "Great, so, since I haven't done a PR event before-Do you have to attend one today?" Upon seeing the man nod, she clapped her hands like a little girl finally getting a pony with a pink tail, "Great! I'll come with you and I'll take notes and that stupid caterer will finally-"

"Okay, Kang Ambrosia, breathe. I have one for a diabetes drive today. Jeongguk will drop us in about fifteen minutes," he put a hand on her shoulder, wincing again as he felt her bones, "Shall I help you up?"

Ambrosia finally looked down at her current disposition. She was in the olive dress with the pretty buttons that she'd fallen in love with when she saw it on a mannequin in the mall, but it was now wrinkled, as though it had been dragged through a thorny bush. In the mirror across the bed, she saw herself entirely. Her hair was unspeakable of.

The makeup she'd so carefully applied that morning was not only smudged on her face, but had practically left an imprint on her pillow, like a Xerox machine.

"Oh God," she breathed eyes tightly pressed shut, "Fifteen minutes, right?"

Jimin nodded.

"I need to-I need to change. Can you please...?" She tilted her head towards the door, indicating for him to leave. Which he immediately did.

First thing she did was wash her damn face.

Okay, she thought, staring into her wardrobe. What says I'm invisible, but also, I'm here and you should see me. And still be sexy.

This was Jin's philosophy to fashion. Picture yourself slaying the crap out of the setting, and wear exactly what you see. This, this piece of valuable life advice was bestowed upon the illiterate event planner while the preacher swatched Charlotte Tilbury lipsticks using her arm as a canvas. Invaluable.

She finally settled on black and beige. The same black black pair of trousers she bought a month ago, paired with a tight black turtle neck. The purse she picked up was a beautiful beige piece, completed with a silk scarf tied to the handle. Gold hoops and a chunky gold bracelet completed the look.

She dashed out, carrying her tablet and stylus under her arm.

"YOU'RE A WEDDING PLANNER, Ambrosia. A famous one at that. I can't be waltzing around PR events with you. The internet will lose it," he sighed, snapping his fingers to signal Jeongguk to step on it.

"Then what should I do? Come separately? I'll call Yoongi right now-" she snapped open her purse, rummaging around for her phone.

Jimin put a hand on hers, "No no. I gave Yoongi some work to keep him busy-"

She whipped his hand off hers, "You gave my secretary work?"

"You told me he shouldn't get to know about what happened earlier today. I got him off your ass. You should thank me," he crossed his legs, tipping his head behind, "And besides, now that he has so much..."

In a normal setting, Ambrosia would've been enchanted by the incredibly seductive and alluring curve of his neck disappearing under a sharp jawline, but she was too protective of her secretary to think of anything else. Or maybe she wasn't. Jimin's neck was pretty damn sexy.

"...just a simple weekly progress report. Ambrosia? Are you even listening to me?"

Crap. Did I drool?

"Uh, yeah. Yeah I am. Progress report."

"Anyways, what I mean to say is, you need a good reason to be there with me. The public has no clue about the coronation, and that's how it's going to be for another two months."

"Okay, how about business partners?"

"No, that defeats the purpose," he looked at her warily, trying to figure out what was going on in that pretty yet lethal head of hers.

An idea sparked in said pretty yet lethal head, "You came for CEO Moon's wedding, right?"

"Yeah, why?"

"And you met me there."

"I didn't."

"But you could have."

"What's your point?"

"For a prince, you're pretty darn slow," sighing, she shook her head.

He scratched his , "Oh, yeah! I get it. We could've met there."

"Yes, you royal idiot," she groaned, subconsciously aware of Jeongguk staring at her through the rear view mirror.

Ambrosia sighed, pressing her head up against the cool window. Sykaria truly was a beautiful country. The smell of wet grass and mud was a promising precursor of the spring flowers she hoped would follow. It was so much like her hometown, like Mumbai.

She was beginning to fall in love with it, ever so slowly.

Her internal musing was brutally cut short by the Prince of Sykaria squabbling with his secretary about whether getting a puppy would benefit the economy of their nation.

"Since we can't roam around here together-Uh, I mean since I have some work to do, Namjoon and Hoseok will be escorting you. If you're uncomfortable or need something, tell them," Jimin snapped his fingers, indicating for the duo to assume appropriate positions. The complied promptly, "Great. I'll see you in a couple of hours, okay?"

"Thanks, Jimin," she smiled, clutching her Hermes bag tightly in front of her. Upon seeing Jeongguk's murderous expression, she corrected herself, "Uh, I mean, thank you, Your Highness."

Avoiding further confrontation with her summer fling-for this morning had embarrassed her to the grave-she turned around and slinked away, hiding among the numerous attendees. The royal guards at her tail made it difficult, though.

As she slipped through the crowd, taking notes on her beloved tablet, she couldn't help but notice being looked at. She even recognised a client whose wedding she planned a year ago. Hopefully, he didn't recognise her.

They definitely weren't staring at her, though. It's not like her eyebags were big enough to cause a room full of people to stare at her like she had horns sprouting from her head.

Painfully remembering her condition a month back, with the duo following her around all day, she winced. She couldn't have that again, "Uh, Namjoon and Hoseok?" She turned to face them, ready to reprimand them if it meant peace.

"Yes, Miss Kang?" They replied in unison, stomping their feet on the ground in an echoing thud.

"Okay, first of all, stop that. All this soldier business. I'm trying to go incognito here. And please, walk with me, not following me like I'm some A-list celebrity," she instructed, massaging her temples.

"But Miss Kang," the faded purple haired began, "His Highness has ordered-"

"You're not disobeying him by walking with me, Namjoon. This current arrangement is making me uncomfortable. He told me to tell you if I ever am, right?" She smirked, knowing she'd won against the royal guards.

The shorter one, Hoseok melted, "Aw, come on, Namjoon. Can't deny that she's right."

Tanner of the two, Namjoon was still iffy about the ordeal, but agreed, grumbling under his breath.

Hoseok picked up on his apprehension, taking it as his time to shine, "Miss Ambrosia, you know that I'm a clairvoyant, right? Well, I can forsee that Jin will brush his teeth with shaving foam tonight."

"How come?" Ambrosia questioned, mentally picturing the elder's reaction to his toothpaste switch. It made the resting-bitch-faced woman giggle.

"Miss Kang, he's no clairvoyant. We personally filled his tube of toothpaste with shaving cream this morning," Namjoon rolled his eyes, still grumpy from earlier.

The shorter man protested, the bickering reminding her of her childhood friends, and how they'd fight over who should buy the next cricket ball after the last one got lost in the glory of a sixer.

Company was something she'd not realised she'd gone without in the past ten years. Ever since she began working, her only company was either her secretary or a random client. And Cha Iseul, of course. But that's all. Maybe that's why she clung on to Jin like her life depended on it. Her mental stability sure did.

But Jimin, his company was simply unmatched. She recalled smiling. An actual, genuine, straight-from-the-heart smile. One that reached her eyes and made her teeth bare from molar to molar. And everyday. Every minute of every day.

Not just when a client said that she did a good job. Not just when she spoke to her mum and dad. Not just when Iseul or Yoongi cracked a joke.

But for no reason at all. He made her smile. By simply being.

"Miss Kang, should we go backstage? I'm sure that'll be helpful," Hoseok suggested, gesturing to the massive stage at the far end of the room.

"That will be great. And please, it's Ambrosia. You don't need to maintain the honorifics with me," she chided, "Namjoon, you too."

HUNDREDS CHANTED IN UNISON. The same name.

Jimin's.

She stared in awe at the crowd cheering for him as he handed a cheque of some incomprehensible amount to a large man in a suit. The glass chest labelled 'Donation box' was full, now threatening to burst. Every starry-eyed Sykarian who stuffed a bill in the tiny slit looked up at the stage, smiling at their beloved prince in adoration.

They loved him. It was like a litter of puppies staring up at their mother. Like Ambrosia looking at Iseul. Like he was their lifesaver.

Namjoon jarred her back to reality, "Prince Jimin is the more loved brother among the two. That's why he's in charge of the public sector."

"What about Prince Kangmin?" She whispered back, almost swallowing the words, for the knew the reason. Kangmin was a dick.

"His Highness handles the administrative aspect along with His Majesty King Changmin," the tall man replied. It was an emotionless reply, indicating his lack of respect for the crown prince.

The brunette looked over at Hoseok, who's smile was bright enough to light up the entire room as he gazed at Jimin.

The man was glad to have met the queen's son. Hoseok was a teenager when he left home to join the army. It had been a tough journey, but seeing Prince Jimin grow up in the shadow of his older brother had energised him to work as hard as he could. His father had been incredibly abusive to him, the cigarette burns on his body a constant reminder.

Hoseok was a rescuee of a campaign launched by the king, years ago. On the queen's wishes-before the second prince was even born-a huge raid was held, picking out children from abusive homes and putting them in foster care. If it wasn't for that-and his adoptive family-he wouldn't have ever made it this far.

He was one of the millions of people who looked up to the royal family, particularly, the queen's favourite son, Prince Park Jimin.

"I HOPE THAT WAS HELPFUL, Ambrosia. You'll be doing an awareness drive for mental health next week. Jeongguk will send the details to your room later today," Jimin opened his car door for the event planner, ushering his bewildered-yet almost chuckling-secretary away.

"It was. Really. It's seriously, uh, great," she stuttered to find the right words, it having been years since she'd given someone a genuine compliment. Fake smiles of approval and of "yeah, you look good too" was practically all her vocabulary had been reduced to. Appreciation didn't come easily to her.

"Thank you," he smiled, looking satisfied as he closed the door and entered through the other one.

She observed him, his tight lipped cold stare transfixed on the seat in front of him. His jaw clenched as they drove into the driveway of Sykaria City Hospital. They passed the ever-busy ER, watching as his eyes closed and he began murmuring to himself.

His grip on the carseat caused visible dunes in the leather. Something was bothering him, just like the day in front of the Oriole.

She wanted to help him. To ask him what was wrong.

But again, the same way appreciation was an alien emotion to her, so was consolation. Heck, showing concern was something she'd never done-unless it was for her parents, and she hadn't seen them in ages.

Her mouth was open, ready to breathe life into words. Except she didn't know what words to use.

A tear slipped out his closed eyes and onto his lap.

Her heart fell at the same time.

She did what she saw fit.

She took his hand in hers, squeezing tightly.

How can someone so loved, have anything that hurts him?

But she understood him.

She was beautiful, incredibly so. Since birth, her value had been measured by her face.

But she was more than just a pretty face. And she'd proved that.

And Jimin, he was more than just a handsome, rich prince.

She understood him.

Author's note.

Wow, this took forever.

I thought this story was progressing a little too slowly, so I sped it up a bit. I introduced stuff I'd kept for chapters 7 and 8 in this one, but it was worth it. I like how this one turned out.

Man, writing Ambrosia's panic attack was so difficult, I swear, it took me forever. But it was worth it.

Even though Jin isn't physically in this chapter, his presence is still felt deeply by Ambrosia. He's become the only person she speaks to about non-work related stuff. Even Jimin is still a client-maybe even a little more.

Okay, THEORIESSSS

What's up with Ambrosia and paint? It sounded like she really missed it in the last chapter, and now it's causing panic attacks.

And where do you think Jin is in this chapter?
My guess is: he's shopping.

How did you like Hoseok's story? I wanted to add a little on each character. I haven't seen many books that do that, so I wanted to incorporate even side character's stories. Kinda like The Sun is Also a Star by Nichola Yoon.

And I'm sorry, but my yoonmin heart couldn't help but keep that scene in the chapter(the Sykarian coffee one)

Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!
Comment and vote, if you liked this chapter. I promise I'll have chapter 7 out sooner. I had an exam in early January, which is why this was delayed over a month.

Have a great day!

Here's happy Jimin to take away all the pain from this chapter.