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neoculturetechxgot7 · 5 years

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Gardenia on the crown - J.J.H

4; dreams of sunshine eyes

pairing: Jung Jaehyun × Reader

genre: angst and the shy touches of fluff

length: around 2,5k words

warnings: mild swearing

// masterlist //

Starry flames flicker on the hundreds of candles saturating the ballroom with golden hues, reflecting on expensive pearls and tangling through lace trim and floral paterns. Nobility swirls around the soft notes of violin and piano, men in tailored suits kindly asking for the pale hand of shy princesses, inviting them to a dance that will stain the night with their scent.

You’re standing in middle of it all, fitted flawlessly in the embrace of a young prince's arms and slowly losing your sanity to the sight of his stunning features, iridescent shadows from the crystal chandeliers casting a sparkling galaxy on his skin. His eyes, those that captured your thoughts from the very moment their Egyptian caramel shade dipped into your soul, still have you mesmerized and utterly lost in their enigmatic depths.

He spins you around so gently, cremé gown blooming around your ankles in the heated rhythm and a moment later, you feel his fingertips sear a temptingly slow path around your waist when you step forward.

"You haven't told me your name yet..." A breathless whisper falls from your lips, accompanied by the over-accelerated pound of your heart. The charming stranger who managed to gather all of your attention to the excellence of his dance and the alluring electricity beaming from his entire presence is still hiding behind anonymity. The ache to discover something as simple as his name is swallowing you alive.

"My name is Jung Jaehyun, my lady...”

You wake up suffocated in the cradle of cloud coloured sheets, nightgown clinging low on your decolté and a rushed pulse racing through your veins. Midday sun refracts from the window, brushing peachy shimmer on your skin and a sweet heat around the endless void of the room.

Yet, somehow, your body feels absolutely numb. That night... Your brain is playing the filthiest game by reminding you of it.

Your glance swivels around the intricately decorated wooden furniture in protest to your mind trying to shove more images of that dying dream before your eyes. Sweaty fingers reach up to rub them a little too harsh, leaving you with a shadowed vision of a vortex of colours and a low sigh dips past your lips.

If you only knew that magical night would be your very first meeting with the devil personified, you would've locked yourself in the cozy escape of the underground library, or your room or maybe the kitchens...Hell, even the moldy, freezing dungeons your father caged criminals in would seem like a better option than being in that ballroom, at that time, with him...

Two sharp knocks on the door slice through your self-pity thoughts just as you're about to hop off of the comforting warmth of the bed, naked feet hitting hardwood floor.

"Come in!“ You shout, hands instinctively tugging on the white silk of your tiny sleeping dress to conceal the exposed expanse of your chest.

But the relieving sight of your maid has your limbs going slack as she walks in, a smile on her face that makes some type of jubilation sizzle under your skin.

"My Lady, you're finally awake!" The girl chirps with the lightness of her kind heart and then quickly trods towards your still seated form. "Will you be attending the morning assembly in the dinner hall or would you prefer breakfast in bed?"

At her mention of any kind of...well...social interaction with the arrogant existence of the royals, your body goes limp and fluffy pillows hug your backside as you fall back. The sole idea of seeing Jaehyun again exhausts you. It's barely been a day since you first arrived and his face is plastered everywhere. Even your damn dreams...

The maid presses her lips in an empathetic line before sparing you the most understanding of all glances. Oh, she knows better than anyone how you'd hate to see that man after having spent the entirety of last night listening to a nice, long monologue of unspeakable and profane adjectives to describe your soon-to-be husband.

Sometimes you wonder what level of patience one must hold to be able to withstand your -borderlone hysterical- hate speeches.

"I'll inform his wonderful grace of your absence, my Lady." With that sarcasm dipped remark, the girl pivots on her heels and strides towards the door, blush skirt flowing behind her. "And bring you some breakfast."

"Thank you."

♤

You finish the very rich meal within minutes -the cooks around this place are priceless, a blessing for your tastebuds- and after a little bit of sinking in a puddle of self loath and cursing your failure of a fate, you decide to distract your mind by simply getting lost in the magic of a book. Literature is a hidden paradise for you, poetry, a little heaven.

Back home, you'd always have a book resting by the wooden extend of your nightstand, every night fading between yellowed pages and inked words that took you on a trip to fantasia. Maybe reading something can help now too...right?

No.

Because you're running a dainty finger over the red and black book spines lining every shelf of the grand bookcase only to skim the leather binding of old catalogues and dictionaries. Your eyes frantically scan each and every title in search of the slightest trace of good, classic literature, those pieces that leave you gasping after the very last sentence, but to no avail. Annoyed at the obvious lack of quality writings, you pull one of the many useless books out, trying to check if the one behind it, on the inner lining, is any different.

An hour later there's a sea of stacked books expanding on the floor of your bedroom, over the oak bureau by the window and some even sprawled across your unmade bed, yet nothing seems close to your taste. You found a couple of fairytales, the ones mothers escort their kids with to the sweetness of sleep. Even dug out a little notebook full of scraped poetry, written in midnight ink and infinite pages of dreamy calligraphy. But it didn't really pick at your interest either, so it now lays untouched on your nightstand, keeping company to ruby necklaces and a porcelain vase filled with roses.

Your knees bend over the plush mattress as you take a good seat in the boredom that has already started to define this day. With nothing else to do but stay in your room and stare at the elegant carvings on the walls, your pinky is twitching; sign of the bottled up energy that's currently restricted due to your absolute refusal of meeting eyes with the royals.

If only you weren't this stubborn and lowered that ego, maybe today wouldn't completely go to waste...

Then, something tickles at the back of your head; an idea?

A library. They must have one here, right?

Maybe visiting the palace library will be a convenient option. You can still spent time alone, buried in the wrinkled edges of lettered paper, while also keeping that well needed distance from Jaehyun and his awful family.

But then again, you don't even know how to get there and the so unpleasant possibility of bumping into too familiar faces has your skin coated in a drizzle of coldness.

Even so, your feet subconsciously plant onto polished floor and lead you to the door, expensive golden silk with embroidered morning stars blossoming around your ankles. It takes you no time to step delicately into those pointed heels that clank an air of intimidation with every step, as you -for the umpteenth time- curse every forsaken force in this damned universe for binding you with such a fate.

Having to sneak out of your own royal chamber like a common fugitive simply to enjoy the smallest comfort of reading a book. Pathetic, to say the least.

♤

You find yourself striding down the seemingly endless stretch of a hallway, peach tinted light bouncing of off smooth stone that arches into a high ceiling. Large, curved openings formed the one side and thick marble columns separate them.

It took a lot of wandering around wide halls and visiting two of the many towers of this palace for you to reach this point, the faintest wave of spring heat kissing your neck and cheeks as a reward. Surprisingly enough, you were met with no person you knew, only kindy greeted by maids dressed in creamy beige, a humble smile on their faces. Once, you actually happened to spot -what you thought would be- one of the ladies of the court and her small escort following shortly behind, heavy gowns of cotton and purple satin flowing with her every delicate step. She bore an almost blank expression, lips pressed together in a manner that made you wonder if she disliked this place as much as you did.

Taking a peak outside the enormous windows, you realise you're walking the perimeter of a circular yard, the expanse of its area covered in emerald, neatly cut lawn. A whole lot of people are gathered, small kids playing around with leather balls, servants scurrying to get some random task done and a big group of men standing on the very middle, some carrying weapons of all sorts.

With feet inching closer to the stone edge, your stare rakes their sun bathed faces and thankfully you recognize none. They are all of noble ascent, from what you can tell at that distance, golden threaded crests decorating the corners of their uniforms.

While your eyes fight to grab onto the stitched details, they happen to -so tragically- fall straight onto another pair of breathtaking brown orbs and within a fracture of a heartbeat you're pulling back and hiding behind the column.

Fuck.

Momentarily, the edges of your vision blacken as you suck in hungry inhales, a nice bunch of profanities roaring in your head to mix with the thumping in your ears.

You just can't avoid him, can you?

Shaking your head to get rid of the slight panic possessing it, you slowly slide to the side again, solely to catch another glimpse of Jaehyun. He’s surrounded by a small crowd of men, holding a steady grip on a steel forged sword that's so well polished it seems almost like platinum.

What a sight.

His glove clad fingers tighten as he ducks to an attack stance, raising the light reflective metal in the air as if it's the lightest feather. You notice the absolute perfection in his technique, balanced from the very handle all the way to the sharp tip and can't help but admire how, the next second, it comes down to slice morning breeze and barely scratch Jaehyun's opponent. He's incredibly skilled, every move laced with such precision, and you notice the subtle flames his eyes emit when seizing each chance.

The other is quick to deflect any incoming hits, but still overwhelmed by their lighting speed and strength that eventually goes in for an attack himself. He bringing his own blade up and aims for the prince's chest, leaving you watching with complete devotion to the scene, as he takes a hasty step forward.

Something inside your chest clenches in such an unexplainable manner and time itself dramatically unfolds, each second slower than the previous.

But then, Jaehyun ends the match with a swift and simple dodge to the side, sword simultaneously flying to crash against the side of his opponent's armor with a loud, echoing bang.

He should’ve watched the ribs. Always watch the ribs, you think while gazing the loser gasp in slight pain.

The nobles all around the young prince cheer -much like you do on the inside without realising-, yelling out praises along with a well-deserved applause as he drops his heavy weapon, that sunshine blessed smile making another appearance. His cheekbones literally shimmer with the milky glow of victory, all of that aristocracy putting even the highest of angels to shame. He stands proud and tall, fingers carelessly ruffling auburn strands of auburn hair, their tips dripping sweat but still giving him the look of effortless beauty.

You're about to retreat back to the shadows and run away before your body gets completely enchanted by the spell of his irresistible attractiveness...but that ice in the pit of his gaze cuts straight through your unprotected soul once his head turns.

You're suddenly frozen in place, prematurely surrendered to the way his eyebrows furrow and your expectation is yet another cocky grin and probably another stupid comment meant to irritate you the moment you face him. If it weren't for the starstruck expression plastered on your face, mouth slightly agape, maybe it wouldn't have been this bad but no, that's not the case today.

It's pretty damn obvious you've been watching, pretty damn obvious you've been lurking like a creep and gawking over the impressive ability of fighting he has conquered.

And he's well aware of that fact because those pearly, white teeth get covered by a way too smug and way too annoying smirk, it's curvy edge cutting through your dignity harder than any knife ever could. You note the way his chest heaves from the lightness of a chuckle.

Oh the embarrassment, oh the pain of your intimidating facade being all wrecked down in a split second.

If only never seeing him again was an option...lf only you could stay away from his stupid beauty and bluntly cold demeanor...

"Greetings, my Lady." A honeyed voice suddenly disrupts your desperation, causing your reflexes to stick your back falt against the smooth stone in horror.

Yet when your gaze snaps to the source of those words, you find a curious and somewhat charming a pair of sunshine filled eyes trained on your form. A toothy grin, white and beaming with luxury, is spread across the young man's face, a perfect contrast to his autumn skin.

Taking in a short breath of relief, your royal instincts kick in and you bow respectively at the gentleman, while he moves forward, hands folded behind his back in a kind manner. "Good morning my Lord."

"I'm afraid I do not recognise your face, darling. Are you new around here, perhaps?" He asks and it seems as if heaven lost one of its angels; his whole being radiating a unique kind of divinity as he stands so confidently.

"Oh yes." Your knees bend once more as you quickly introduce yourself, trying to sound as formal as possible, getting over the previous scare. "My name is (Y/N) of the (Y/L/N) dynasty and I'm present here as the rightful betrothed of prince Jaehyun."

His eyelids momentarily shot open after hearing your title, almost in shock, and that smile flashes impossibly brighter before he bends in respect. You feel warm fingers snake behind your own and with an airy pull he places a fragile peck on the back of your palm, as soft as freshly picked petals, to make you shudder.

"I'm so delighted to finally meet your grace. I am prince Heachan, cousin of your beloved."

You internally cringe at that last comment...As if Jaehyun and his wholesome stupidity could ever be loved...

"Nice to meet you too, prince Heachan." Your reply comes with a slight tilt of your head, pleasantly surprised at how well behaved and gentle he looks and acts, despite being a member of that horrible family.

Heachan takes a short look around, as if searching for something, and then aims his friendly glare back at you, this time baring a questioning expression. "And you're here without your escort?"

Your shoulders quickly stiffen, realising you have to explain yourself for carelessly wandering around the palace without a single maid accompanying you, something highly unusual for someone of your importance.

He notices that and chuckles and your heart softens at the way the apples of his cheeks shine with such a dull pink.

"Well, I'm looking for the library and..." Your eyes trail a regretful path down the hem of your dress, feeling a little embarrassed at the words you're about to speak. "I think i got lost..."

The boy laughs again, this time a little louder and more genuinely, one hand propping on his waist, sinking into the bejeweled red velvet of his shirt while the other makes an airy gesture. "This definitely isn't the library, or anywhere close to it, dear."

He extends an inviting palm, eyes glimmering with traces of a blazing summer and the tint of pure gold as he continues. "But I can take you there, if you please."

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