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kbandtrash · 2 months

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For Me (Sungjin x Reader)

~Rachel~

Masterlist

Raised to believe that as the princess of your kingdom, the luxury of your upbringing was justification for your distinct unhappiness, you find yourself fantasizing about the one person who's ever seen you as more than a woman: the castle librarian.

Content: Royal au, implied emotional abuse, witty banter, perhaps over-the-top attempt at a period writing style, mutual pining, friends to lovers, unwanted arranged marriage, assassination attempt, knives, panic attack, happy ending :) lowkey lowkey inspired by Barbie in The Princess and the Pauper

Word Count: 10.1k

“She is here to meet a proper suitor,” the governess told Sungjin coldly. “You will not be getting in the way.”

Sungjin sucked in a breath with a grimace as he straightened his jacket in the mirror. “And what makes you think I’m here for anything other than the feast?” He turned to face the governess properly. “While I am an excellent dancer, I have no interest in stealing away the princess’s chance at meeting an advantageous match.”

The governess seethed at his nonchalant reply. It was by the princess’s request that the librarian had been invited to a royal event in the first place, and she was going to get to the bottom of it. “It seems you needed no reminder,” she noted sharply. “At least you already know your place.”

“It’s been made clear to me many times before tonight,” Sungjin replied, side-eyeing her as he left the dressing room. “Don’t say useless things.”

—

You sighed wistfully as you looked out from the balcony at the boy on the lawn. “Lucy, do you think he would be bothered if I asked him what he was reading?” you asked your lady in waiting.

“Almost certainly,” she replied bluntly, sharing in your afternoon fantasy. “But perhaps not if you asked him how he was liking it.”

“Oh, no, I think that might bother him more.” You giggled. “I say this as if I have any intention of courting.”

“This is news to me,” a voice interrupted you from the shade. You turned to see Sungjin leaning against the balcony doors, a few familiar books under his arm. “You speak of a new crush every week and yet you have no intention of courting?”

“The crush is the only fun part, Mr. Park,” you said with a feigned serious tone. “If I’m not to marry for love, then why get in too deep to let go in an instant?”

You searched for any pity in his expression, but he either hid it well or truly only felt amusement at your statement. “Is that why I’m the only man you talk to?” he quipped in return.

Lucy tried to hide her explosive laugh as a cough.

You looked Sungjin up and down. “A man? Would I talk to you if I saw you that way?”

The cough worsened, and Lucy had to excuse herself, rushing past Sungjin to get the privacy she needed to regain her composure.

Sungjin’s blithe amusement was unaffected, or at least undamaged. He stepped forward and brandished his books at you. “I’ve taken the liberty of removing these from your chamber and replacing them with some books your governess recommended.”

Your jaw dropped in indignation. “But was it not by your recommendation that I had those books in the first place?”

“Times change quickly, your highness,” he said, waving the books at you once more before tucking them back under his arm. “If these caught your interest as far as your bookmarks in them, I’m sure you’ll have a splendid time with your new books.”

“That’s not a fair criterion,” you argued. “If I’d had any time for myself, you would have had those books back a week ago.”

“Excuses are easy to come by,” he chided, stepping back toward the balcony doors. “I prefer to judge by action.”

—

He took your hand gently and led you to the dance floor with his hand on the small of your back. You then gave each other a courteous bow and curtsy before he took your hand once more and rested his hand on your waist. You tried not to trouble his shoulder with the weight of your hand.

“Is it alright if I share a burden with you, Mr. Park?” you asked as cheerfully as you could muster, studying the details on his jacket.

He didn’t answer right away, and you could feel his eyes on you, trying to get you to meet them. “Is it something I’m already aware of?”

“Most likely,” you answered, surely failing to hide behind your usual grin. “I can’t imagine someone as sharp-minded as yourself could have let this slip by.”

He hesitated once more before asking a second question. “Will sharing this really make it lighter?”

Your face truly began to falter now, and you couldn’t keep your lips from frowning. “Probably not, but I do suppose it depends on your response.”

He brought his hand up from your waist to tilt your chin gently upward, a final plea for you to meet his eyes. “I’m afraid I might make it worse, indeed.”

As tears threatened to spill over, you hid your face on his shoulder. He held you a little closer. “I was afraid you might say that.” You drew in a deep breath and stood yourself up straight, determining yourself to look into his eyes once more. “But I think I still want to try saying this once.”

“Princess…”

“I love you, Sungjin.” You looked down, unable to hold his gaze. “But of all the luxuries and choices granted to me in life, love is not one of them.”

“I love you, too, (Y/N).”

You had never thought that honest words could cut like lies. “For the sake of your heart, I hope it passes soon.”

—

“Really, Mr. Park, you must stop snooping through my things.”

“You left this out specifically for me to read,” he argued, “and I will not tolerate a word otherwise.”

You humphed self-righteously. “Well, since you’ve read it anyway…”

“I’ve already marked the edits I suggest you make.” He handed the papers back to you. “You are quite careless with your grammar.”

“Just the grammar?” You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Is that all you have to comment on?”

He reached forward and tapped on a paperclip at the back of the stack of papers. “My commentary on the content couldn’t fit in the margins—which are messy, by the way—but it couldn’t fit in the margins with the grammar suggestions, so I had to take down my notes on new paper.”

“Three—” You had pulled his notes to the front of the stack as he had spoken, and you were appalled to find just how many pages he had used. “Three pages? I only wrote four, and you wrote three pages of criticism?”

“Three sheets,” he corrected. “Front and back. Six pages.”

“Six—!” You took a deep breath and set your hands on your hips, trying to stuff down your frustration. “I wrote four pages of philosophy, and you wrote six pages of criticism, not to mention filled the margins of the original four with grammar corrections?”

He didn’t smile, but you caught the twinkle in his eyes. “You think so lowly of me, your highness.”

“I can’t imagine you would write any praise.”

“And so lowly of yourself, as well,” he chided. “Only the first page is criticism. I actually found your piece intriguing enough to write you a response.”

You felt like you had swallowed a mouthful of air. Sungjin, the great and esteemed librarian of the royal palace, had found your thoughts interesting enough to write five pages in response to the original four.

You cleared your throat. “You flatter me.”

“Ah, well,” he said, clearing his throat as well. “Perhaps you’ve finally earned some praise.”

—

Luckily, your downtrodden mood went unnoticed by the rest of the guests. Well, perhaps unluckily. That meant that all of the potential suitors you had met were all self-absorbed snobs with no real interest in you as a person. It wasn’t like you really expected more out of a political marriage, but you hoped for someone that at least cared enough to notice that you were hurting.

Sungjin sat with some other guests that you had invited from the palace staff, enjoying the food as promised, and was soon joined briefly by your governess. She looked uneasy.

“I’d like to apologize,” she offered, taking the seat next to him in order to rest her feet for a moment. “I believe I was unnecessarily harsh.”

“Perhaps I did need the reminder,” Sungjin disagreed, watching you dance with another noble that paid no attention to you even as your hands were intertwined. He could see your expression even from this distance—miserable and barely hiding it. “I believe you and I are the only two people in the room that know of her intellectual caliber, and the only two that care.”

The governess chewed on that, deciding the librarian’s words to be true and taking them as the tragedy that they were. “Of all the luxuries and choices granted to her in life, as she likes to say…” Sungjin nodded in acknowledgement. “I think the books used to be her distraction, and then you came with the books. However, she will be a fine queen someday, and your willingness to challenge her is certainly a factor in that.”

“If her husband will ever allow her a word in edgewise,” Sungjin scoffed. “She’s better suited for leadership than any of the men here for her hand.”

The governess raised her glass toward Sungjin. “I’ll toast to that.”

He clinked his water glass with her champagne, although he didn’t understand what exactly they were toasting to. He knew he could never stay by your side, but he couldn’t stand to see your growth suffocated in order to satisfy some other man’s picture of an ideal wife. The choice you were giving up wasn’t just love, but to live your life as yourself. He wondered who had convinced you that a life of royal luxury was worth trading your identity.

—

“Now, who is burning the midnight oil in my library?” Sungjin’s voice came out deeper and raspier than he had thought it would. Then again, it was quite time for him to be asleep, and he did hope he sounded intimidating.

“What’s this of midnight oil?” your voice came from the other side of the shelves. “The sun has only just set, has it not?”

Sungjin, in his pajamas and night cap, rounded the corner of the last shelf before the table you sat at. The sight nearly caused you to choke on your own laughter, which was certainly not becoming of a princess.

He raised his eyebrow at you. “I’m quite certain if you stay up much longer, you’ll be greeted by the sun rising once again.”

You stopped your giggling immediately, placing your bookmark and slamming your book shut. “You must be joking.”

“I would never joke about something as serious as interrupting my bedtime.”

He was absolutely serious; you could read it in his posture. As ridiculous as he looked, he was not pleased. In fact, the longer you looked, the more disturbing the shadows of the candlelight on his face were. He looked rather like a solemn ghost reminding you to sleep, lest he haunt you—

You lost your composure again, imagining the librarian as a nagging specter. He didn’t so much as raise an eyebrow. “My apologies, you just look like—” you had to pause to fight off your laughter— “you look so silly.”

“I think you simply need to leave my library and get yourself to bed,” he said. “Your academic sobriety already leaves much to be desired when you’re well-rested. Don’t make it worse.”

Perhaps it was the hour of the night finally setting in, and you were exhausted after all, but you could have sworn there was fondness in his eyes when he bid you goodnight and shut the library doors behind you. However, you thought perhaps you weren’t mistaken about it when he opened the doors once again to shuffle after you in his slippers, berating himself for nearly allowing a lady to walk alone across the castle in the dead of night.

—

The marriage date had been set. Although not one of the suitors had managed to impress you enough to give him a second glance, a few had appealed to the king, and he had chosen one for you. You didn’t know why you were so upset. You had known all your life that this was the role you had been born into, and you had spent your life preparing accordingly. What was the difference now that it was actually upon you?

All of your duties now were wedding-related. Not a second was free for you to spend loitering around the library, which you tried to convince yourself was a good thing. If you weren’t around him, you would stop thinking about him eventually. Your unnecessary crush wasn’t even your most impeding problem; the books that he took such good care of were no longer yours to peruse. The life of rigorous study that you had loved was no longer yours, either.

You supposed you had taken advantage of this for far too long; what place had you ever had among the books, anyway? Dress fittings, etiquette lessons, those were things you should have been spending your time with in the first place. Now you were playing catch-up because you had been allowed to choose between something you wanted and something you needed.

Upon returning to your chamber for the evening after a day of decoration approval, you noticed a book sitting on your vanity—not your desk, where the last of your books remained. Someone had placed it there for you, and you nearly tore yourself in half resisting the urge to snatch it up and read it immediately.

There was only one person it could be from; only one person was bold enough to trespass like this. However, you were trying to prepare yourself for the life you would soon be living, and indulging in this couldn’t possibly make it easier for you. Still, you wandered closer to your desk, wary of the book as if it would burst into flames.

There was an envelope on top of the book, addressed to you in handwriting so lovely and calling you so rudely by your given name. His handwriting had been the bane of your existence so many times, yet you had never seen your name in it. He had added no flourish to it—in fact, there were a few little drops of ink from his quill staining the envelope—but you had never liked the sight of your own name more. Or hated it.

Before you knew it, the envelope was in your hands, and you delicately turned it over. He hadn’t even bothered to seal it properly. He must have known that any obstacle to his letter would have turned you away from it. If only it had been sealed, it might have brought you to your senses.

You turned it over again, admiring his handwriting once more, but turning it so quickly wafted the scent of the paper to your nose. You smiled without realizing it; you wouldn’t have thought of him as the type to use a lilac scent. Why was it only now that you were learning the sweetest things about him? It was like the Fates didn’t want you to let him go.

Rather than the books of philosophy and politics he would usually recommend you, this book was a work of fiction. By the look of it, he must have bought a new copy for you. The letter that came with it must have contained some explanation as to why he had given it to you, but you cared far too much to let yourself read it. You weren’t certain you would ever read the book, either.

You sat on your bed and stopped trying to fight the tears you had holding back since the ball. It was of no use to continue explaining to yourself that you had no right to feel this way. It wouldn’t stop you from feeling this way, so the least you could do, now that you were in only your own company, was admit your feelings to yourself. Instead of repressing them, you needed to let them go.

—

The air of the castle was far too stuffy in the summer, and on a night like tonight, opening the window simply wasn’t enough. You needed to go outside and experience the night air for yourself.

It was no easy task to convince the guards that you didn’t need them or your lady in waiting around for a half-hour stroll around the grounds, but eventually they let you out. You were almost certain that they would have someone tailing you, but as long as you couldn’t see or hear them, you would pay them no mind. The illusion of a moment of solitude would have to do.

As you admired the crescent moon and the stars splashed across the night sky, your illusion came to an end. Whether or not someone had sent him after you, knowing that his company was one you would never rebuke, you didn’t know, but Sungjin had come around the castle from the opposite direction. You intended just to pass by him at first with a cordial nod, but the way his eyebrows raised in something that seemed to you to be surprise or disdain managed to offend you enough to talk to him.

“Am I not allowed to explore my own home?” you asked sharply.

This had been exactly the reaction he had wanted to get out of you. He stopped and turned to face you slowly, his expression now perfectly polite. “Did I say anything contrary?” Before you could fire back a retort, he continued, “Well, perhaps there is something to be said about the hour of your excursion, but who am I to criticize you?”

Every witty thing you could have come back with vanished from your mind. “Yes, quite so,” you said smartly. “You are out at the very same hour.”

“An excellent observation,” he acknowledged without a hint of the patronizing tone he implied. “Every so often, I find an evening walk to be quite refreshing, but it seems the evening escaped me tonight.”

He was going to make you say it. Whether he had been sent or not to escort you tonight didn’t matter; if he was to join you, he would have to have your permission, and he wasn’t going to ask.

Well, having company wasn’t your intention, and you weren’t going to ask. Perhaps this one time, you would refute his company.

“It is a bit suffocating, isn’t it?” he asked you instead, before you could tell him to be on his way. He glanced toward the castle, and you had a feeling he was talking about something other than the heat.

“Sometimes I wish the castle were farther from the equator, in a drier part of the country,” you admitted facetiously, determined not to give him the conversation he wanted. “But I suppose a milder winter is a fair trade for the misery of summer.”

The corners of his lips rose in preparation to play your game. “You can only escape outside of the castle walls for so long.”

“As soon as I go back inside or the sun rises, I’ll be right back where I started,” you agreed, now also not quite talking about the weather. “You can’t exactly hide from the sun.”

“It is quite relentless,” he said with a nod. “Even now, it watches you by way of the moon.”

Was he the moon? Was that his implication tonight? A reflection of the sun—of your duties—but kinder in its presence. It didn’t bring the same light, but it didn’t bring the oppressive heat of the day with it, either.

“I do wish it would stay a while longer,” you mumbled, only for him to hear if he cared to answer.

You pretended to ignore him as he took his attention away from the night sky and gave it to you instead. You pretended not to see out of the corner of your eye the way his eyes sparkled with stars to rival the night sky. Most of all, you pretended not to see the way he looked at you. It would just be trouble if you tried to make something of it.

“May I escort you?” he asked, offering you his arm tenderly. “It’s still a ways to the back gate, if you would like to escape the heat a little longer.”

Perhaps you had misread his intentions tonight. You had thought he was going to make you put down your pride, but now he was simply inviting you to at much less detriment to yourself.

“Alright,” you accepted softly, taking his arm in the same manner. “I suppose some company wouldn’t be too burdensome.”

—

Your husband-to-be wasn’t necessarily unkind. He was perfectly polite, in fact, and while he clearly didn’t have any real interest in you, he did try to get to know you in the few days before the ceremony. However, this mostly consisted of asking what you knew about his interests rather than asking what yours were. In his eyes, he likely had a long way to go with you until you would become who he imagined you to be.

Perhaps if you’d had a common interest, something might have happened, but it seemed that literacy was a skill he didn’t think much of. He took his privilege for granted, and assumed someone else around him would always know what he needed to know in any situation. It didn’t seem he expected you to be in that list of people.

It was a horrible thought, but you did consider that his nation would likely be better off in your hands than his, if he died accidentally…or not. Not that you would ever do something to bring his death to pass, but it wasn’t a thought that particularly troubled you.

His eyes stared right through yours as you wondered these terrible things. He looked at you, certainly, but he couldn’t have seen less of you if he were blind. You felt like a paper doll, being dressed up and given away to someone who would likely forget you existed within a week.

As this prince went on and on about his annual hunt with his younger brothers, your mind wandered back to someone who always saw more of you than you wished he would. You could never hide anything from him, no matter how well you thought you had put up a front. If he were here right now instead of your politically advantageous match, you had so many things you wanted to ask him. He might grow frustrated with your questions, but not because he thought you couldn’t understand his answers. He felt you should already know the answers, or you should be asking questions meant to challenge him just as much.

This prince was hoping you would shrink to meet his expectations, while your librarian wanted you to grow to meet his. However, according to your birthright, you had already overgrown for the role you were meant to fit. Cutting back was going to hurt in one way or another.

You noticed the prince had gone quiet, watching you now in the glow of the sunset as you sat on a bench in the gardens surrounding your castle. Had he asked you a question? Why was his expression like that, all soft and pleased with himself—

“What are you thinking about?” he asked you.

You weren’t sure how to answer the question; you were more surprised that he had finally asked you a question that didn’t have to do with him. “I was just—”

“Let me tell you what I’m thinking about,” he interrupted you. You weren’t even sure he had heard you start to answer, much less expected you to answer. “We shall be an excellent match. Our children should take after you in looks, and surely after me in personality.”

You refused to bring anything like him into the world, but that wasn’t something you should or could say out loud.

“You are beautiful,” he told you as if he was sure no one had ever told you before. “My brothers shall be jealous I’ve found myself a wife like you.”

If he thought he was being romantic, he was wrong, and it was unnecessary for him to do such, but he was so sure of himself, you were unable to move before he decided to kiss you.

It made you feel sick to your stomach. There was no way he thought a romance was really going to build that quickly between the two of you. Was he really arrogant enough to think he had won your hand in marriage because he had won your heart at the ball? You had thought you were on the same page, at least, that you were here for the benefit of your nations.

You excused yourself after that and all but ran back to the privacy of your chamber. The familiarity of your own quarters were something you would lose as you traveled back to his kingdom to begin the rest of your life, so you figured you might as well take advantage of them for the last time.

He must have been brought up to believe he deserved everything the world had to offer as some sort of royal birthright. The way your late mother had raised you, you thought it was common knowledge that in exchange for a life of royal luxury, you had to live your life ready to sacrifice anything else for the welfare of your kingdom. The more you interacted with the royalty and upper class of other countries, however, you realized that your paradigm was unique, even strange.

You were snatched out of your thoughts once again, even as you were steps away from safety, by a hand grasping your arm. On pure instinct, you tore your arm away as you spun to see who it was that had stopped you. Frozen with his arm still outstretched as he realized how improper his actions had just been, Sungjin waited for your next response.

You had half a mind to turn around and keep walking, but the other half of your mind sought comfort from the one person in this castle that you knew cared. No matter how much you wanted to let it win, you couldn’t. You were already indulging yourself by running away to hide.

“It’s a bad time,” you refused him simply without giving him the chance to explain himself. “Perhaps another time.” You spun around once more to continue on your way.

“I think this is the only time,” he contended before you even took a step. “You are miserable. If you ever do anything for your own sake, let it be this.”

You had kept yourself in check for so long. Every single awful feeling you had been keeping down suddenly manifested, burning hot. “What do you know?” you spat vindictively. You turned once more, advancing on the librarian, who stood his ground. “What do you know about duty? What do you know about living a life on the backs of people who do real work every day, while you sit around and just exist?”

He didn’t say anything. He was angry, and you knew it by the way his eyes darkened. Normally bright and full of stars, you had snuffed them out.

“This is the only worth I have in life,” you said. “I bring them promises of goods to trade and safety from war and strife with this, so they can keep living their lives. I’ve never had to do anything for myself—this is the least thing I can do repay those that have sacrificed so I can live this way. My happiness means nothing in comparison to the lives of those I’m supposed to protect.”

“How dare you talk about the princess that way,” he said, his voice quiet and dangerous. “If it were any other than yourself, I would have them turned in to the guard for slander.”

“I can’t slander myself, Mr. Park.”

“But you can lie to yourself. You can let yourself believe all of these terrible things about yourself because someone did you the discredit of raising you to believe that you don’t deserve to be loved—valued, even,” he seethed. “Perhaps the welfare of the people should come before your own, but how can you serve them properly if your service to them doesn’t bring you joy?”

“And what if it does bring me joy?” you asked defiantly.

He shook his head. “You may lie to yourself, your highness, but you cannot fool me.”

—

He looked beautiful in the glow of the sunset. You wished you could capture him like this somehow, keep his image in a book that you could look at whenever you wanted. However, your sketches could never do him justice, even if you could capture the colors perfectly.

You were in love with him. You knew it, as much as you wished it weren’t true. He had probably known before you did. It was useless, though. You were to marry a prince, and there was to be a ball soon to find a potential match.

Forgiving yourself for this would be no easy task. You should have seen it coming long ago, but you were blinded by your own foolishness, believing that you could really just admire him as a scholar. Once you knew you liked him, you should have stopped then, as well, but it was too easy to convince yourself to indulge just this once. And then you got too deep to pull yourself out.

Even now, watching him out on the lower balcony from above, you were indulging yourself. Once again, you rationalized using the same logic: you might as well enjoy the view while you still could. Soon, you would leave all of this behind. The castle, the view of the gardens, the familiar sunset of your land, and your librarian as well. If you had managed to find all of these things you loved in one scene, you might as well commit them to memory while you still had them.

Like it was habit for him, he turned his gaze upward briefly toward your balcony, but he made a double-take as he realized you were standing there. You both froze, having been caught in your acts of assumed solitude.

“Princess?” he stammered, not quite believing his eyes. “How long…?”

“You should come,” you blurted, somehow seeming to retain a collected composure even though you were embarrassed and unsure of what was coming out of your mouth. “To the ball, I mean. You have my invitation.”

The distance between you was too far to really make out his expression, but you could only assume it was confused by the length of time it took him to answer.

“I’m sure I have no place there.”

“Of course you do,” you insisted. This was indulging yourself once more, but if this was the one time you would ever make a stupid choice, it might as well be now. “You have to dance with me once, shouldn’t you?”

His expression was too hard to make out, but you could see his hands playing with the railing of his balcony as he tried to figure out what you were playing at. “Truly, what place would I have doing that?”

“Perhaps from some viewpoints, none,” you admitted, “but I believe our camaraderie has earned you at least enough social standing for one dance.”

Even from this distance, you could see his dark eyebrows raise at the implication that his worth came from his relationship with you. You knew that he knew you were joking—you had made him recommend you several books on similar subjects—but you waited to see if he would take the bait and keep arguing with you.

“If you’re willing to take responsibility for whatever complaints come up surrounding my presence, then I suppose I should take your offer,” he said, inflection heavy in his voice. “Don’t regret extending this invitation.”

You smiled to yourself. You would come to regret it, you were sure, if you didn’t already. “I would never,” you lied jovially.

—

Sungjin had made himself quite scarce from your presence. Not just yours, apparently, but you had heard rumors that he had hardly left the library at all. That was fine by you; you didn’t want to see him anyway. You would feel obligated to apologize if you saw him again, even though you still believed you had said nothing wrong. You knew you had hurt him with your harsh words, and in that was your fault.

The wedding was…well, it was. That was as far as you could describe it. You were aware of your state of being alive through the whole process of the day, but barely anything more. That was the only way you could get through the day without being overcome by your emotions. You shut everything out. Every thought, every sensation, every person who talked to you, none of it had access to how you truly felt about what would come next. If you had to, you would never come back to yourself for as long as you lived.

Perhaps somewhat ironically, it was a threat to your life that brought you back to the present. Barely twelve hours had you been married, and your husband was already holding a knife to your back.

“It’s a shame. I really did think you were a lovely girl,” he said with a slightly inconvenienced sigh, “but in order for any of this to work, you have to die.”

If you and your family lived through whatever declaration of war this was, you would have to remind yourself to slap your father across the face for his ineptitude in picking alliances.

“I’m sure taking me as hostage would incite much more chaos,” you suggested flatly, barely daring to move for the strength with which the prince held the dagger to your back. He didn’t seem to know much about women’s fashion, as he held it to a rib of your corset, but you had to let him believe he had your life in his hands.

“I would have liked that as well, but I’ve been advised that if we want to take possession of your kingdom, we need to make this as swift and cruel as possible,” he explained once again as if this were a minor inconvenience to him. “And it’s not as if you would agree to our occupation. Your dedication to your people, in particular, is admirable, but it’s exactly why you cannot be allowed to live.”

And it was exactly why you had to live. You thanked your past self one last time for the adventurous youth you had insisted upon and prepared to seize his knife for your own. Your dark fantasies of killing your husband may well have become your reality.

“I was surprised to find out that rumors about you were true,” he went on. “Your pretty face is unfortunately a facade for that strange mind of yours. Thanks to that peculiar librarian of yours, no doubt.”

You stiffened at his mention of Sungjin.

“Oh, yes, I know all about your little affair. One of the wisest and most knowledgeable men, not just in your country, but likely the whole continent. He’ll likely be useful in the coming months, whether willingly or not…”

That was the end of your rational thought. You spun around and made a grab for the knife, your heart on fire at the thought of anyone, much less this man laying a hand on the only man who had ever seen you as an equal. You hadn’t considered that he had meant to provoke you, which was now made clear by the way he pulled back and readied a real strike. With the smirk on his face, the monologue suddenly made sense.

You attempted to move out of his way, but your haste had caused you to forget the placement of the furniture in the room, and you nearly fell backwards over a chair. His knife grazed you across your chest, almost aligning with the length of your collarbone. It wasn’t deep, but it was already bleeding. You weren’t sure why it didn’t hurt quite like you expected it to, but you were sure it would soon. If you were going to live, that had to be the only strike you allowed him.

So you fought dirty. Giving up your earlier plan to take the knife yourself, you kicked him hard between the legs and took off as fast as you could. Surely his shouts would attract unwanted attention, but you had to leave and find Sungjin as quickly as possible, before anyone else did. You ditched your shoes at the door and thanked the prince one last time for his arrogance; not a single guard was stationed outside.

It wasn’t long, however, before you found yourself being chased by the foreign guard. You shouldn’t have been fast enough to outrun them, but your desperation—not for yourself—kept you out of their reach. Just as you were sure you were done for, you rounded a corner to see members of your own guard, still unaware of the rats in the castle.

You called for their help, and seeing the blood dripping down your front, they sprang into action. Once you were safe behind their line, you pulled one aside.

“This whole wedding was a setup,” you relayed, trembling. “You must make sure the king and the others are safe—they’re planning on having us all killed.”

Then you took off again in the direction of the library, not stopping as the guard called after you. It wasn’t far from here, but you couldn’t waste time if they had already found him.

The library corner was still dark, untouched by violence as of yet, you hoped. You weren’t as delicate as you wished you were, trying the handle, and the sound of the locking mechanism echoed down the whole hallway. The door was open, nonetheless, and you prayed that it was just because he had forgotten to lock it, and not because someone had already forced it open. You locked it behind you, whether it meant you were trapped in here with the enemy or not.

His quarters were separated from the library by a door in the back, and you had to fight yourself to keep an even pace. There were no signs of soldiers, and the closer you got, the surer you were that you were the first one here.

His door was shut, and all the lights were off. Perhaps he had gone to visit family instead of attending the wedding. If he had, you hoped he would know to never come back.

You knocked on his door, and within a few seconds, you heard rustling from the inside. You knocked again, and you heard someone questioning you from inside.

“Sungjin,” you called for him quietly, but still loud enough that he could hear you through the door, “the prince and his troops are staging a coup—they’re—”

He yanked his door open, standing before you now in his silly pajamas and nightcap. The thought of this man, whose only calluses on his hands were from an excess of using them to write, being used and hurt for his dedication to knowledge…it made you sick. You could never let that happen, by any means possible.

“Princess?” He could hardly take this sight of you in. He had never known you to be frightened of anything, and he had never seen you look so small.

“You have to leave,” you begged him. “The wedding was a setup to seize the kingdom. They’re looking for you now, as we speak.”

“Me? They’re after me and not you? Their princess—our princess.”

“They don’t think anything of me, but they know how much you know—that makes you worth something! Sungjin, they won’t just kill you,” you warned him frantically. “Please, hide, and get yourself to safety!”

“Breathe with me, Princess, please,” he pleaded with you, holding your arms steady. “You’re bleeding. Let’s address that first.”

You shook your head. “It’s not life-threatening. I’ll be fine, but please tell me there’s a way out of here that’s not the main entrance—”

An echo through the library stopped your voice, froze you in place. They knew you were here. You led them straight to him. The one person you wanted to protect, and you had given him away. And those guards who had protected you so loyally—you had given them their deaths.

You couldn’t breathe. Your lungs were full of air and they refused to empty in exchange for new air, even as you gasped for it. Sungjin knew there wasn’t much time, but he had to try and hide in whatever time he had. There was a nook hidden behind a bookcase that he suspected had been built for times like this. However, the bookcase was heavy, and he wasn’t sure he had the strength to move it out and back in time.

Another echo shook the walls; they were going to break the doors down. He had to try.

You weren’t in any state to help him as you clutched your hand to your chest, trying to regain control of your breathing. He took your arm and led you swiftly to the bookcase, even knowing that he couldn’t do this alone.

“We can hide back here,” he said, leaning down and making sure he had your eyes on his. “I need you to help me pull it back.”

“Sungjin, I don’t—I—I can’t—”

With another echo, he heard the wood of the doors beginning to crack from the repeated force.

“(Y/N),” he said softly, “we have to try.”

Your eyes still shining with tears and your body still shaking as you tried to control it, you nodded resolutely. Anything to get him out of harm’s way.

On his count, you pulled the shelf, and true to his promise, there was a small alcove with just enough space to hide the two of you. So long as you could pull the shelf back in time, and the enemy soldiers didn’t start knocking shelves over, you would be safe.

A final crash finally blew the doors off their hinges, just in time for you to have secured the shelf back in its place. Even though the enemy guard’s shouting back and forth was more than enough noise to drown out any sound you made, you still stifled your panicked sobs.

Sungjin couldn’t take any more of this. The space was small enough that you could both sit on the floor, but only if he had you in his arms. He wasted no time in pulling you into his embrace and allowing you to sink to the floor. He listened intently to the soldiers’ dialogue as they searched his library, but it was admittedly hard to focus when he was finally holding you like this for the first time.

“Is anyone sure they saw the princess come this way?”

How had it taken an attempt on your life for him to finally gather the courage to hold you like this? Certainly, you were a princess and he was a humble scholar with no place by your side, but that seemed now a pitiful excuse. If your lives really were to end tonight, his greatest regret would be withholding his feelings for you.

“Check the librarian’s quarters—see if there are any exits besides the doors we just came through.”

He hadn’t noticed his hand finding its way to your hair, holding your head to his chest to comfort you. Although your breathing was still troubled, you seemed to have regained quite a bit of control. He was prepared to hold you all night if he had to.

“What if we just lit the whole place ablaze?”

Sungjin’s heart dropped. If you were trapped back here, a fire would certainly kill you both.

“No! We’re under strict orders to preserve this collection—this is one of the most extensive libraries any kingdom has seen, and the king wishes to have it for his own. Our task is simply to find the librarian who tends to it and bring him to the prince.”

“And what of the princess?”

“Kill her when we find her.”

After a while, the footsteps stopped, and Sungjin had to assume that the soldiers had left. However, he wasn’t going to risk your safety to find out if he was right. At some point, they would have to leave, but he would much rather wait until you were able to make a plan with him. He trusted you much more than he trusted himself in that aspect.

You were still bleeding, he realized, and in the cramped space, he had you sit apart for a bit as he reached to tear his nightshirt for a makeshift bandage. However, you stopped him, gesturing to the hem of your dress instead. He shook his head, going once again for his nightshirt, but you placed your hand over his.

“The dress is already ruined,” you whispered, gesturing to the slash and the bloodstains. “It might as well be of some use.”

He understood your request; it wasn’t simply about preserving his nightshirt, which was still in good condition, over your already torn and stained dress. It was also about further tarnishing what this dress was supposed to represent. He wanted to erase all of that too, so he obligingly found a seam and split it as much as he could to make a decent bandage and still leave you decent.

Once he had pressed the fabric to your wound, you decidedly curled up against his chest once more, all but forcing him to wrap his arms around you again. He couldn’t help but smile despite the dire circumstances. For a moment, you weren’t a princess and he wasn’t a librarian, hiding from foreign combatants. You were just a girl, and he was just the boy you loved, stealing a moment of privacy for the first time.

“Did you ever read my letter?” he asked you softly, careful not to allow his voice to pass through the wood shelf.

You shook your head. “Nor the book that came with it.”

“That probably would have been for the better, had the prince been honest in his intentions to marry you.”

“But he wasn’t.”

He sighed. “No, he wasn’t, and I’m not sure whether to curse him for trying to take your life or thank him for…well…”

“The two may not be mutually exclusive,” you admitted, “especially if we live to tell the tale.”

He thought for a moment on that. What would happen if you escaped from this, and the prince and his soldiers were defeated and brought to justice? What would happen if you escaped, but the prince succeeded in seizing the kingdom? He already knew what would happen if you failed to escape, and didn’t find the possibility worth lingering on.

“Will you take your position back if all ends well?” he asked. “I fear if the king does die tonight, you’ll either end up with a price on your head or a country to run.”

You were quiet as you thought as well. Everything you had known about your future had changed within a few minutes, and you certainly hadn’t had the time to consider any of the consequences that tonight would bring.

“The power would never fall to me,” you finally answered. “Ever since my father gave up on having a son, my cousin has been preparing to inherit the throne. Whether the king lives or dies tonight, and if our guard succeeds in stopping the attack, I suspect my role will remain the same. I will be expected to marry a man of noble lineage to benefit our country.”

Sungjin’s chest grew tight at the thought of you marrying another man—again. He couldn’t stand to let you slip through his fingers again, but what choice did he truly have in the matter?

“However, I’m not sure that I could go through with yet another wedding to someone who sees me as nothing more than a chess piece,” you went on. “I’ve shown myself where my heart truly lies when I’m forced to choose between the good of the kingdom and my own desires, and I can never fool myself again.”

You sat up a bit, ignoring the pain racing across your chest.

“I would rather my life end by your side than keep living without you,” you confessed to him solemnly.

There was hardly light enough to see in the small nook behind the bookshelf, but it was enough to reflect in his eyes like stars, as always. It was a tragic confession, he knew, for he knew of no way for you to live by his side. And he loved you anyway.

“May I kiss you?” he asked, his voice even smaller than before.

And so came to pass your first, and perhaps last moment of shared intimacy. It was just a kiss, but it was all you could have asked for. He was so gentle, as if he were afraid you would break or disappear.

The fatigue of the night finally set in, and you ended up falling asleep together in that tiny space behind the bookshelf.

—

You were awoken by frantic rapping on the side of the bookcase. Very few people knew this alcove existed, so either someone had sold you out, or it was a member of the staff, hoping to find their missing friends.

“Please, Princess, Mr. Park, at least one of you must be back here,” a woman’s voice worried from the outside. You sat up, recognizing her as your lady in waiting. “This is the last place I can think of.”

“Lucy?” you called to her. As you opened your eyes, you could see sunlight filtering in.

“Oh, your highness, thank goodness!” she sighed in relief. “And is Mr. Park with you?”

You began to respond, but Sungjin signaled to you to wait. “Ask her if she’s alone,” he told you almost inaudibly. You nodded, understanding his implication.

“Lucy,” you repeated, leaning as closely as you could to the corner of the bookshelf and the wall. “Are you alone? No one else is with you?”

“No, Princess, I’m by myself,” she confirmed, lowering her voice to match yours. “And while the captain of the guard knows I’m looking for you, he doesn’t know where I am exactly. We’ve managed to chase the enemy soldiers out of the castle, but they’re still on the grounds. I want to get you out while we still can.”

“And…” you began, an odd feeling of nervousness in your stomach. “What of the king?”

She didn’t answer for a moment, and that was an answer by itself. “I’m sorry.”

You learned that once your guards had captured the prince, who was still languishing in the room you were supposed to share, it had been easy to command his soldiers to stand down under a threat on his life. However, by then, it had been too late for your father. Luckily, your cousin was safe outside the castle, but it looked like the prince’s soldiers were preparing to make another attack instead of accepting their defeat.

Lucy relayed her plan of escape to you: there was a secret passage that led into town, outside the castle grounds where the enemy was waiting to stop any escape attempts. She was hoping Mr. Park would accompany you to safety, if he could be found.

“And there’s another thing, your highness, if I may be so bold,” she said. “I’m not so sure you would want to hear this—if you find it shameful of me to suggest this, you may pretend as if I never said it.”

“What is it, Lucy?”

“Well, I have…I know…” She sighed. “Pardon me, it’s just so hard to say it the way I mean it.”

You exchanged a curious glance with Sungjin. You hadn’t come out of your hiding place yet, but you would soon now that you were certain that your lady in waiting was still trustworthy.

“Worry not about offending me,” you exhorted her. “What do you have to say?”

“I send my earnings to my sister and her family,” she explained. “She has two daughters, and you’re their hero. I always wished I could follow the path of education, but my family never had the money. I think it a shame to leave all of the things you’ve learned for a political marriage where your intellect is of no value. If you wished to leave your life as a princess—”

You gasped. “Lucy!”

“I’m sorry, your highness, I know how you wish to serve your kingdom in return for the life you’ve been able to live thus far—I just wonder if it would make you happier to serve your people by sharing your privilege with them directly rather than continuing to live as a figurehead.”

Could you really do that? She—a person who had served you during the best years of her life, had been denied opportunities in her life in order to serve you—was advocating for your happiness? You had always been grateful for her company, but you had always been hesitant to call her a friend because you had believed that she must resent you in some way—but who had told you that?

The same people who had convinced you that you didn’t deserve to be happy in the first place. That had firstly come from your mother, the Queen, who had impressed upon you the worthlessness of your feelings in the face of the needs of the kingdom. Perhaps this had come from a place of trying to raise you to be a benevolent monarch yourself, but you were now starting to see these ideas for what they really were.

And who had perpetuated these notions after she had passed? No one other than yourself. There was only one person now who wanted to stop you from leaving this life you so hated behind: you.

“Well said,” Sungjin commended Lucy in the absence of your answer.

“Oh, Mr. Park!” Lucy exclaimed in relief. “This makes things so much easier. Let’s get you both out from behind that shelf so that you may depart at once.”

Lucy had come prepared. She had brought you a dress to change into, one of her extra uniforms, and since she had heard rumors of your injury, she had brought ointment and bandages as well. While Sungjin collected things that would be necessary for your journey and things he dared not to leave in the castle for intruders to find, she applied the ointment and wrapped your wound as best as she could, what with the awkward placement, and then she helped you into the new dress.

The last things she had brought with her you were sure had come at great risk to her life, and if you wouldn’t have already cried at the sight of them, this added knowledge certainly would have pushed you over the edge as well. She had brought the book that Sungjin had given you and the letter that came with it.

Quickly, she led you through the castle to the entrance of the passage. She gave you directions to where her sister’s family lived with a promise that she would join you soon.

Sungjin insisted on carrying almost everything in his pack, despite both of you being used to living as scholars. He pointed out that you also had the slice below your collarbone to worry about, but since it had been so shallow, you weren’t worried too much about it. You walked through the passage together, knowing that whatever life met you on the other side, you would face together.

—

Ten years had passed since the enemy siege on the castle. Luckily, it hadn’t led to war, but the prince’s kingdom had faced significant consequences from other countries allied with yours. The new king in this land was a kind ruler; he was well educated in the ways of service, and in the name of his deceased cousin, the former princess, he had begun several new efforts to provide opportunities for his people to become educated.

In a small forested town in this kingdom, near the mountains, a couple ran a strange building. On the ground floor was a library run by the husband, and up the stairs was a room used as a schoolhouse, headed by the wife. They happily took part in the king’s educational initiatives, turning this little nowhere town into a sort of hub for learning and studying.

You never did find out if your cousin, the new king, knew that you were still alive, but you supposed it was of little consequence. The princess had died in that attack, in some way. That life felt like a tragic book you had read in your youth, something you could tell your children as a bedtime story when they were being ornery (and oh, they were, as seven and five year olds tend to be).

You found yourself enchanted with life now, as doing the most mundane things you remembered at times to be things you had longed for. Your house was across the road from the library-schoolhouse building, and your view out the front window showed you your favorite sight: your husband sitting at one of the tables in his library with those two ornery children, captivating their whole attention with a book about the stars.

He glanced up from the book, in a way that looked habitual, and even from across the street, you could see his surprise in seeing you looking back. His focus was now broken, and the children noticed just as quickly.

You decided to abandon your book-mending project for now to spend the rest of your afternoon off in the place where you had fallen in love with that man to whom you were married: in his library.

Dearest princess,

(Y/N)

I write this not with light conscience. I realize wholly the weight of the words which I dare to impart to you. I also fully realize the weight of the words you spoke to me at the ball, just as much as my response to them.

I hope that you may find some humor in this, however: I have written no less than five drafts of this letter, and I still fear this one to be lacking.

I suppose I must end my stalling; beating around the bush has never been my strong suit until just now. I care deeply about you, and as such, I cannot bear to see you so distraught and say nothing. While I do know very well that you serve your kingdom and your people with pride, I also believe that you deserve to serve them in a more corporeal manner than you believe to be in store for you. You and your intellect are of far more value than you believe, and your presence in the academic world has been far more impressive than I have likely let on.

It is bold and improper for me to say this, but I believe you should petition the king to reconsider your prospects for marriage at this time. I say this not simply because of my feelings, although I must admit I cannot isolate these two subjects entirely. I say this because I believe you could do more for your country if you remain here and become an active part of the affairs of the kingdom than if you were to leave. If you wish to take on this challenge, I shall aid you in whichever manner you request.

I save these sentiments for last, and I regret not having told you sooner: I find every part of you to be absolutely captivating, from your wit and intellect to your graceful beauty. I understand my feelings to be above my station, but I do find myself emboldened to know that you return these feelings. If you might ever consider me in reality, know that I would do anything in my power to find a way to stay by your side.

Yours,

Sungjin

P.S. The book is a gift. I found myself reading for pleasure and I wished I could share this with you. Perhaps you might read it one day if you end up somewhere I can longer pester you.

Now this one took just over a year to write. I think it just started as me having fun and flexing my vocabulary and understanding of English grammar but then it turned into something a little more serious. I also now wonder if I could write closer to a Shakespearean style if I tried. Hmm. Not now though

#day6 #day6 x reader #sungjin #park sungjin #sungjin x reader #day6 au #day6 fanfic #day6 sungjin #sungjin day6

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kpforpresident · 1 year

Text

Clexaweek Day 6: workplace romance 🌱

Plant shop AU. Or, an AU of an AU.

collab with @thecrimsonknight, the link to the beautiful moodboard that they made is here.

It had been raining all day. Fat streams of rainwater poured off of the dark green eve that sagged defeatedly under the sheer weight of rain, the tinny plink plink plink of drops hitting the metallic gutter echoing under the door frame as they soared through the humid mid-July air. Puddles splashed merrily under harried car wheels as they rushed by the street corner where Lexa’s cozy shop sat, hunched figures under black umbrellas milling about the street corners as people hastily tried to get from their point A to point B relatively dry. A city that sat nestled in the PNW, Polis was no stranger to wet, gray days or foggy cool mornings. However, this summer had been particularly rainy, long weather forecasts of dreary little clouds sitting like sullen soldiers on Lexa’s weather app no matter how often she refreshed and hoped for a crack of sunshine in the little line of weather emojis.

Lexa fidgeted impatiently on her stool, hands clasping and unclasping in front of her and she fought the urge to reach out and straighten the spool of twine that sat primly next to her favorite gardening shears. Chancing one more glance at the slim gold watch that sat clasped around her left wrist, she sighed as she gave up and straightened from her boredom-induced slump, feeling her spine pop slightly as she unfolded from the rickety little stool to standing.

This chick has two more minutes, and then I’m locking the door and going home to watch trash TV and eat dollar ramen noodles, Lexa thought absentmindedly as she drummed her fingers on the battered workbench, watching the secondhand slowly tick towards 4:02. This is the last fucking time you hire one of Raven’s friends- just because she’s Anya’s girlfriend doesn’t mean that you have to let this weird ass best friend nepotism stand- remember what happened when you hired Octavia’s brother to build shelving? That was an entire shitshow… Lexa snarked internally as she wandered through the rows of cut flowers, straightening a wilting tulip as her eyes darted against her will again towards the door and the unrelenting deluge outside. Blurry figures continued to rush by, heads toward the ground, shoulders hunched as they all moved in a coordinated, practiced dance borne of many, many rainy days.

A whole sixty seconds goes by as she stares silently at the thin hand, finally letting her mouth slip into a frown when her expectant gaze darts towards the door to see….no one. Lexa finally let her shoulders slump minutely, hands dropping from where she had been fussing with an all-green bouquet arrangement. Turning the trimmed piece of eucalyptus over and over in her fingers, Lexa turned to the back of the shop and prepared to grab her coat and trudge home once again, mentally preparing for the soggy walk three blocks home to her small albeit cozy apartment.

As she twisted the eucalyptus branch over again in her fingers, she heard the cheery tinker of her door chime, followed by the door flinging open. Lexa was turning around, warm customer service smile plastered onto her face as the human embodiment of a tsunami bounded through the glass door.

Lexa felt the smile fall in abject horror off of her stunned face as the same whirlwind promptly swept into the shop and managed to place their foot perfectly into a plate-sized puddle just beside the door mat, arms and legs pinwheeling spectacularly as her feet skidded out from under her.

She hit the ground with a loud whump, followed by a soft oof as the girl sat up slowly, painfully. Colorful swear words poured from her lips unceasingly as Lexa watched her flex various body parts with increasing confidence among finding the movements absent of pain, clearly going through an inventory of all of her working limbs post- tumble.

Lexa crouched down hesitantly, trying her best to gather the pile of cream-colored papers that had flown from her hands like feathers from a split pillow as the stranger had crashed to the floor of her shop. Sheath of papers finally gathered into a messy stack, Lexa looked up, mouth opening involuntarily as she accidentally locked gazes with the bluest set of eyes she’d ever encountered.

“I- you- you wouldn’t happen to be Clarke, would you?” Lexa managed to croak out after a long moment, where the stranger- Clarke- slowly staggered to her feet with a small wince, free hand rubbing where her hip had made contact with the concrete floor as she nodded in confirmation. Clarke’s other hand tentatively extended to take the stack of what Lexa now realized were art sketches, a small smile breaking across her face like the sun after a rainstorm as their fingers brushed slightly. Lexa absently mirrored her expression, eyes widening slightly as she did so. She flexed her hand as she retreated to behind the workbench, managing to settle onto her stool without looking like too much of a dunce.

Raven, in typical menace fashion, had neglected to mention that her artist friend that Lexa had hired to paint a mural on the blank back wall of her studio, was shockingly, jaw droppingly attractive. Not that Lexa should’ve been surprised. Raven, with her warm brown eyes, flawless skin, and shimmering black hair, could’ve walked straight out of a playboy version of a Mechanics Monthly, even covered in car oil and grease as she usually was when she came home from work from the small shop she owned with Lincoln just outside of Polis. Lincoln’s fiance Octavia was similarly stunning, with sharp cheekbones and a muscular figure, dark eyes cunning and softened by a perfect pouting mouth. Lincoln clearly felt similarly, his gaze becoming soft and dreamy when Octavia would stride into the shop in her free time, a gym bag slung over her shoulder on her way home from the boxing studio that she co-owned with Anya.

Lexa shouldn’t have been shocked that Clarke looked like a Botachelli angel, curves enclosed perfectly in a dark wash pair of jeans, a faded t-shirt slouching perfectly on her shorter frame, but still she floundered for words as the bright cerulean gaze met hers expectantly, Clarke hobbling forward to spread her cache of doodles across Lexa’s desk. Lexa tried not to drool obnoxiously as a pair of worn Doc Martens came into view at the bottom of her field of vision.

Sappho, give me strength, Lexa thinks frantically, heart beating a tempo against her ribcage as her fingers tap the wooden desk nonsensically, desperately, as a wave of sweet perfume engulfs her when Clarke shifts slightly to tuck a graphite pencil behind her ear, shimmering waves of blonde hair tumbling out from a harried braid.

“Sorry I’m late,” Clarke blurts out apologetically, tracing her finger over a smudge of charcoal in the lower corner of the topmost sketch. Lexa was already shaking her head before her brain engaged, dismissing Clarke’s wavered apology before it had fully passed her lips.

“It’s totally fine, Clarke” Lexa soothes as she darted her gaze down to appraise the charcoal lines that Clarke had spread as a silent offering in front of her, sentence petering off slowly as she leaned closer to appreciate the drawings. ‘“These- these are amazing, Raven mentioned that you left your pre-med track to go to art school downtown after your dad died?”

Clarke nods silently, chewing on a rose colored lip as her thumb smoothed over a sketch of an apple blossom, a feathery fern bending effortlessly in the background. Lexa notes the slight tension in her shoulders at the mention of her father and steers the conversation to safer waters, hair falling out of its tired bun as she bends over the drawings to examine them in more detail. She’s so entranced by the sketches she doesn’t see Clarke’s gaze trace over her figure, lingering on how Lexa’s lips purse in thought as she traces a reverent finger over a very realistic tulip bud.

“I mean, I love them all,” Lexa concludes helplessly as she runs a thoughtful hand through her hair, chancing a glance up at Clarke, who happens to be gazing at Lexa from her higher vantage point at the same time. “I would love for you to paint any of them on the wall, I’d love to just let you go wild. I’m happy to pay for whatever paint you need on top of your base rate for your time, I know it’s a big wall.”

Lexa can feel her cheeks go crimson as they lock eyes again, standing awkwardly to gesture uselessly at the large white wall that borders the back of her store, decorated only by a small floral fridge on the far right side.

“I- do you like italian food?” Clarke blurts out from somewhere behind her shoulder, Lexa turning incredulously to be met with a twin set of flaming pink cheeks. “Can I buy you dinner, and we can sketch out the mural? Is that ok? Is that breaking some sort of client contractor rule? Because I already swore to Rae that I wouldn’t fuck this up, because Anya’s essentially your sister and all–”

“I’d love to get dinner with you, Clarke.”

///

Four months later when Clarke finally puts the finishing touches on the mural, they celebrate with takeout Italian food and champagne on the floor of the little flower shop.

#clexaweek23 #day6 #clexa #clarke x lexa #plant shop au

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