[fic] SuperJunior - "Painted as Opposites" (2/?)
Title: Painted as Opposites [Chapter 2]
Author: phasera
Pairing: Siwon/Donghae
Summary: (AU) Loosely inspired by the k-drama Princess Hours.
Chapters: o1 | o2 | o3 | o4 | o5 | o6 | o7 | o8 | o9 | 10 | #
Note: This story is incomplete, and I will not be working on it anytime soon. I appreciate the readers who still enjoy this story, and I'm sorry I cannot promise you a conclusion.
------------------------Chapter 2------------------------
As it turned out, Donghae, Sungmin, and Hyukjae were all quick with their brushes, but even fleeter on their feet. After a successful evasion of the assistant dean and other school authorities, the three of them sat in the Student Union near the center of campus-and far from the scene of the crime-celebrating their bold artistic venture over coffee and doughnuts. Hyukjae had pulled his laptop from his bag, gleefully reporting that pictures of their mural were already being posted up on twitter, cyworld, and facebook.
Chin propped on his hand, Donghae let his attention slowly drift away from the conversation. Instead of listening to Hyukjae read out some of the rave reviews, for some reason Donghae found himself wondering if Prince Siwon had seen the mural, and what he might he have thought of it: would he have liked it, or thought it was funny? But no, that wasn't possible-low-brow humor could never amuse a sophisticated aristocrat like him. The prince probably thought their prank was immature and uncouth in the extreme. Donghae wasn't quite sure what uncouth meant, but his grandfather liked to call him that whenever Donghae landed in the fire, and the old man had worked at the palace for decades before retiring.
Strangely, the hypothetical idea of the prince's disapproval made Donghae feel anxious, wondering if there were anything they could have done to make their painting more explosive, more impressive, more… more something.
"Hello, Earth to Donghae," Sungmin called, probably not for the first time, snapping his fingers under Donghae's nose. Donghae blinked and straightened, belatedly finishing off the half-eaten doughnut that had been dangling from his fingers for the past several minutes.
"Geez, you're even more spaced-out than usual this morning," Hyukjae complained. But it was said with a smirk; Donghae's roommates had maintained for years that one day his head would become so full of air that he'd simply lift off and drift away into the atmosphere.
"Cut me some slack, I'm running on nothing but three hours sleep and adrenaline, here." He punctuated the excuse with a large swallow coffee.
"Yeah, and you look like it, too," Hyukjae teased, and Donghae shot him a glare over the rim of his cup.
Sungmin was scrubbing at a splash of paint on his arm with some spit and a napkin. "Actually, we should all probably try to clean up a bit before we show up to our classes," he suggested, tossing the napkin down when it proved useless. They all agreed this was probably wise and stood up, stretching muscles stiff with hours of painting while perching on ladders or dangling from rope seats. Donghae turned to snatch up the last jelly doughnut from the table, and then froze with it halfway to his mouth.
Unluckily for them, standing up had put them directly in the line of sight of the assistant dean and some of his staff who had been scanning the cafeteria from the doors at the top of the stairs. Donghae locked gazes with the assistant dean for the second time that morning, his eyes going wide like a deer caught in headlights. The older man wasted no time, he was already pointing and signaling for his cronies to converge on their location.
"Back way," he blurted, grabbing his bag and his friends' arms at the same time. The doughnut that he'd dropped landed in a mini-explosion of powdered sugar on his shoe, but he ignored it in favor of more urgent matters. "The A.D. is here, he saw us-we've got to go out the back, right now."
In a flurry of movement and annoyed exclamations, the trio pushed and wove their way through the tables, their feet squeaking against the linoleum when they finally hit open space, and they smashed through the back doors to the Student Union almost at a run.
They paused just outside to catch their breath and decide where to hide next. "We should split up," Sungmin panted.
Hyukjae nodded agreement. "North for me," he said, falling quickly into one of their many tried-and-true getaway patterns.
"West," Sungmin claimed next.
Donghae didn't want to go alone, but he knew it was probably safest. "I guess I get east campus, then." He held out his right hand and his roommates clasped it with their own. Donghae grinned cockily, as if a second escape was already a foregone conclusion. "See you guys at lunch?"
"Or in Hell," Hyukjae joked. Laughing, they shook on it and then without wasting any more time they raced off in their three different directions, three points on a compass, looking more like kids playing hide-and-seek than students working diligently towards their education.
But it's hard to get educated if you're expelled, Donghae reasoned with a grin still stuck on his face; his feet, in agreement, ran a little bit faster.
~*~
Prince Siwon hadn't taken more than ten steps onto campus that morning before he'd been surrounded by his fellow students; they were first year freshmen and young girls who insisted on waving at him and trying to touch him and snapping pictures of him. He never quite understood why so many people insisted on acting as if Siwon were some kind of famous actor or pop idol, rather than rather boring political leader's son that he actually was.
It was a fairly frequent occurrence but never failed to baffle the prince, who couldn't understand what it was they expected him to do; most often he ended up just standing there, keeping his expression as neutral and polite as possible. If he were in a good mood, he might smile at them or wave back.
Not surprisingly, on that particular morning the Prince was most decidedly not in a good mood.
Part of it was due to the fact that this morning's rush had come as a surprise. His staff had chosen this back entrance to the campus for a reason; it was usually almost deserted this early in the day. Siwon was used to being able to walk to his first lecture in relative peace. But now-judging by the size of the crowd, and it was still growing-he'd be lucky if he could make it to his class at all.
Siwon leaned closer to one of his Security staff. "What's the problem?" he asked the man in an undertone. "Why are there so many people here?"
The man touched the communication piece hooked to his ear, listened to one of his men through it, and bobbed his head in acknowledgment of the prince's impatient tone. "Yes, your Highness, we're looking into that now."
A minute later, he touched Siwon's sleeve to get his attention, pointing towards the large building ahead of them on the pathway. "Apparently there was some sort of art showing at the atrium this morning, and many students have stopped by to see the paintings."
Siwon lifted one eyebrow, curious. He still could see nothing, but his staff worked very efficiently; already the crowd around him was being dispersed, the students being strongly encouraged to step away and return to their classes.
The first thing Prince Siwon saw clearly, however, was the massive form of the university's Dean of Students hurrying towards him. The man's face was flushed so dark red it was purple, and he was perspiring even in the cool morning air.
"Your Majesty," the Dean huffed as soon as he was in range, using the wrong title for the Prince as he usually did. Siwon rolled his eyes but didn't bother to correct it.
"Good morning, Dean," Siwon told him cordially, but inwardly he groaned. On Siwon's first day at the school Dean Ho Dong had insisted on guiding the Prince through every building on campus, expounding the virtues of each one at great length until what might have been a quick visit had stretched for four painfully long hours. Siwon had never quite forgiven the man for that. He hated to have his time wasted by anyone.
"Your Grace," the Dean huffed, getting even redder in the face as he fought to catch his breath and be obsequious at the same time. "I humbly beg forgiveness for the extreme rudeness of our students this morning. The delay to your schedule is unforgivable; we should have taken down all their names and handed them over to the Assistant Dean, put every last one of them on academic probation."
"Hardly necessary, Dean," the Prince said, shouldering the strap on his school bag and starting down the walkway towards the inner campus, in hopes that the older man might take the hint and leave. Siwon's security mostly remained with the car-he was always required to have two bodyguards with him, though they stayed back at a farther distance than normal when he was at school. It was a piece of freedom that Siwon had argued long and hard for with his parents during his first year.
But within a few moments of walking, they were within full view of the atrium and the twenty-foot mural that had suddenly adorned it overnight. Siwon stopped in his tracks, initially just surprised, but soon forced to admire it just as many of the other students had. And even in spite of Siwon's black mood, looking at it brought a small smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. But he wiped his expression clean as the Dean began sputtering anew, growling about "unseemly graffiti" and "juvenile tomfoolery."
The mural stretched over almost the entire glass front of the atrium; just by the scale of it, Siwon was impressed that the artists-whom he assumed to be a small group of students-had managed to complete the project in just one night. The second thing that stood out were the bright and cheery colors, ranging from primaries to neons. The kaleidoscope of colors came in the form of huge tropical fish, swimming their way across the glass, all with large cartoonish eyes and wearing different comical (and sometimes obscene) expressions. The centerpiece of the mural, however, was a silvery-blue whale that was grinning toothily; the whale was spouting water from its blowhole, and floating red-faced on the crest of the spray was a caricature of Dean Ho Dong himself. Finally, as the pièce de résistance, a caption written along the bottom of the mural read: Dean Kang Ho Dong really blows!
Cute. Prince Siwon coughed discreetly, covering a laugh.
"Such a horrific vandalism, the university will never countenance this kind of behavior, and as soon as the perpetrators are found-" the Dean was still muttering, more to himself than to the Prince.
Siwon was struck by a sudden sadistic mood and interrupted the man, feigning astonishment. "Surely you can't mean that, Dean?" He looked back towards the atrium in an exaggerated display of admiration. "I feel that this mural adds a wonderful touch of whimsy and charm to the school," he lauded it, biting down a smirk as he watched the older man color from red to a sickly shade of puce.
After gaping like the fish in the painting for a moment, the Dean recovered his senses enough to begin staging another, weaker protest. "But, your Majesty, that is to say-our fine school-that is, an academic forum such as this, having such inappropriate displays-"
"You mean you intend to have it removed?" Siwon shook his head. "What a waste of such a brilliantly avant garde piece."
"I-that is, the school. . ." But the Dean trailed off, at a loss for words in the face of this dilemma. He could now have the mural removed at the risk of the Crown Prince's disapproval, or he could leave it as it was and continue to be ridiculed by the entire student body.
There, Siwon thought with satisfaction, now that excruciating tour had been avenged.
"You'll excuse me, Dean, but I am already late for class," the prince inclined his head in farewell, and walked towards the main campus once more; this time, thankfully, the Dean stayed behind. Siwon glanced back and saw the man mopping the sweat off his forehead with a handkerchief, looking well and truly flummoxed.
The prince's mood plummeted back to its previous gloomy state as soon as he was once again alone with his thoughts, with nothing to distract him from reliving that morning's conversation. His stomach felt as if it were tied in a cold knot, while his emotions tugged him in three different directions. Part of him wanted to be furious with the King and Queen, while another part felt guilty for not being the obedient son they'd raised him to be; for not being eager and content simply to do whatever his family asked of him.
But mostly-if he was willing to admit it to himself-Siwon just felt terrified.
He was already ages late for his first lecture, and in no state of mind to try and focus on his studies in any case; as Siwon reached the Quad in the middle of campus, he detoured to the right, heading east rather than west towards his International Economics class as he should have done.
There was only one person in the world the prince wanted to see just then. Though Hankyung didn't have classes till later in the afternoon, Siwon knew the likeliest place to find him at this time of day.
Approaching the College of Arts, Siwon glanced towards his bodyguards. The two men did nothing overt to acknowledge his look, but they sat down outside the entrance, pulling out newspapers to read while they waited.
As Siwon entered through the tinted glass doors, he already felt a fraction lighter, as if some of the weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He had always liked this building: there were always muffled sounds of classical music from the practice rooms, no matter the time of day, along with sharp scents of paint and turpentine from the art studios on the second floor.
Reaching his destination-a mirrored dance studio in the farthest corner of the ground floor, one full of tall windows that let in lots of light-Siwon smiled slightly at finding Hankyung exactly where he'd expected him to be.
Siwon paused at the entrance, leaning against the frame of the door as he watched the other boy perform a complex, bounding glide across the polished wooden floors, ending with a fully extended leap that looked utterly effortless. Hankyung always moved in ways that seemed impossible to Siwon, as if the other boy's body held helium, as if he were lighter than air.
Finally Hankyung paused to catch his breath, his form silhouetted by the sunlit windows; the sudden stillness was an odd contrast after such vibrant movements. And rather than in affection, Siwon's heart clenched with a sudden panic, so much so that he stepped into the room, walking swiftly towards the other boy and embracing him from behind, encircling his shoulders as Siwon pressed his nose against the warmth of the Hankyung's neck. Siwon ignored the tickling strands of Hankyung's hair to breathe him in, inhaling the comforting scent of sunlight and sweat and a hint of spice that Siwon recognize as the cologne he'd bought as a gift for Hankyung that past Christmas.
"Siwon," Hankyung exclaimed, his voice colored with surprise. Hankyung had been born in mainland China, but he'd immigrated to Korea at a young age in order to live with his relatives. The other boy never said much about his past, but he had always carried a reminder of it in the faintest trace of an accent that lingered no matter how often he practiced his speech.
"What are you doing here?" Hankyung turned to face the prince, and Siwon reluctantly let his arms fall back to his sides. "Shouldn't you be in your first class?"
Now that he was here, all that Siwon had been planning to tell Hankyung sat like lead weights in the pit of his stomach. The words still clamored through his brain, running on the same loop that had been repeating in the back of his mind ever since his mother had announced it to him at breakfast.
I have to get married.
"I just-I wanted to see you," Siwon said, words clumsy as they tripped over the lump in his throat.
"Oh, is that all?" Hankyung smiled, and hugged Siwon around his waist to return the previous embrace. "You couldn't have waited a few hours until lunch?"
The prince knew he would have to say it, and say it all-better sooner, rather than later. He took a breath. "Something's happened," he said.
Hankyung at last seemed to pick up on the peculiarities in Siwon's behavior. He let go and stepped back to search Siwon's face, worry beginning to form creases between his own brow. "Is something wrong? What is it?"
"Would you mind if we went somewhere else to talk?"
"There are a few empty studios on the second floor, I think, being refurbished. We can go up there," Hankyung said.
~*~
Donghae clung to the shadows, silent as a leaf in the wind, moving between trees with all the stealth of an elite ninja warrior-no, ten elite ninja warriors-
"Excuse me? Hey, could you help me out?"
Surprised by the nudge against his shoulder, Donghae yelped like a cat and whirled to press his back against the trunk of a tree, the one he'd moments ago been peering around in order to search for signs of the assistant dean on his trail.
A young female student had interrupted him, juggling a heavy load of boxes and folders that looked ready to slip through her hands at any minute. She nodded her head towards the nearby entrance of the College of Arts, looking more than a little impatient. "Little help, please?" she repeated.
"Oh... oh! Yeah, of course, I'll just-yeah," Donghae stammered, embarrassed to have been caught mid-sneak. Rushing to the doors, he pulled one side open, and the girl swept past him with a grudging word of thanks. He followed her in, thinking to lend a hand with the boxes-but she was already marching competently down the hallway, far ahead of him. Donghae was left standing there feeling awkward, rubbing the back of the neck and wondering what he should do next.
Suddenly paranoid once more, he squinted through the doors back outside, eyes tracking along the path towards the campus commons and along the trees dotting the grassy lawn. But the only adults in sight were two well-built men in suits and sunglasses, sitting on a bench and reading newspapers. Donghae had already been spying on them for the past five minutes, and for the most part he was certain they had nothing to do with the A.D. or any other school administrator.
It looked as if a clean getaway had been accomplished. Smirking, Donghae used his thumbnail to scrape some paint off of his watch so he could read it-there was still had lots of time to kill before his Advanced Pottery class. He wandered down the empty hallway, and debated tracking down some snack machines: he was hungry, and the doughnuts had hardly been filling, especially after all the running he'd done this morning. But the caffeine from his three espressos must have kicked in, because suddenly he felt in a productive mood. So he decided to skip the snacks and head upstairs to get an early start on glazing the pot he'd sculpted as a present for his grandfather.
Whistling in time with his bounding steps, Donghae flung open the door to the stairwell and climbed up to the second floor. If he finished firing the pot early enough, he could take it with him on tonight's visit to Grandpa Lee, and tell the old man all about their mural and the dumbfounded look on Dean Ho Dong's face.
He was in the middle of trying to decide between turquoise glaze or teal glaze when a snatch of conversation drifted down from the second floor, the voices amplified by the enclosed space of the stairwell enough to distract Donghae from his own thoughts and slow his steps.
"-Not acting like yourself, and I'm worried. Siwon, please, just tell me what’s going on."
As Donghae's brain deciphered what he was hearing, he stilled completely, frozen in surprise. Had that guy just said Siwon? As in, Prince Siwon? How many Siwons could there be in this school? As he wondered this, Donghae realized he was already continuing up the stairs, creeping as silently as a thief before he'd even made a conscious decision to keep on eavesdropping.
He knew he shouldn't. It was wrong, an invasion of privacy.
But oh, he was curious.
Grandpa Lee had always told him was very wrong to snoop in other people's business... when you get caught. True, there was also an addendum to that motto: if you go looking for trouble, you’re probably going to find some.
Donghae conveniently chose to forget about that last part, at least for today. At any rate, he had already reached the stairwell exit, it was too late to turn back. Crouching down, he peered around the door and across the hallway. There were two young men standing in the empty art studio that was directly opposite to the stairs. One of the boys turned in Donghae's direction, and his breath caught in his throat-so it was the Prince, after all.
Spying on a royal prince-could he go to jail for this? Be beheaded? Have his tongue cut out, or his eyes gouged for his insolence? Donghae swallowed, nervously twirling the ring on his finger; his thoughts also continued to spin a mile a minute, wild with speculation. And though the fates he imagined for himself grew steadily more morbid and gruesome, he didn't move an inch. Donghae's wide eyes stayed glued on the figures in front of him while he hung on their every word.
Prince Siwon finally looked up towards his companion, but Donghae was too far away to interpret the black glint in his eyes.
"I'm to be married," the Prince said, the tone of his voice flat and devoid of inflection. "My parents told me this morning. It's a contract betrothal, something my Grandfather made the deal for when I was a child."
Donghae's eyes widened even more. I really shouldn't be here, he thought. But still, he made no move to leave.
The second boy moved towards the prince-he was also tall and good-looking, and Donghae noted he had the build and characteristics of a dancer. He also spoke with some sort of accent, but it was faint. "It is hard to hear that," the boy said, gently, while clasping the prince's arm. "But we always knew it would happen eventually..."
The Prince jerked his arm away from the touch, the suddenness and the barely-contained anger of that movement sending Donghae's heart leaping to his throat. By now he wouldn't have been able to leave even if wild stallions had arrived to drag him from the scene.
"By the end of the week, Hankyung," Siwon said, and by then some of his frustration had leaked into his voice. "I'm to be married on my birthday." He laughed then, a sharp bitter sound. "What a wonderful gift from my family, don't you think?"
Frowning darkly, the prince reached into his pocket, pulling out some kind of ring. It lay glinting in his palm, and the Prince stared at it, glaring as if through will alone he could melt the silver away to nothing.
The other boy-Hankyung-had reached out once more to the Prince, but his hand hovered uncertainly between them. The prince's fingers curled around his ring, and he shoved it back into hiding. Hankyung's arm fell back to his side, his gesture going unnoticed. "But you've expected this for years now," he began, sounding tentative. "It shouldn't have to change anything."
"It changes everything," Siwon snarled, almost shouting, and the glint in his eyes had turned to a full-fledged blaze while he gestured madly, as if his body could barely contain him. "Can't you see it? This is my life-my life, and I can't even-" he suddenly broke off, rubbing his hands over his face; the fire in him had been tamped down as quickly as it had erupted.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't take it out on you," the Prince went on after a long pause, much more subdued. "It's just that I... I don't know what to do," he finally confessed. In that moment the Prince sounded much younger than his twenty years. Watching him, Donghae’s hands had somehow come clasped together and pressed themselves over his mouth, and he didn't know what he was trying to hold back from saying. This was none of his business.
Donghae continued to stare as Hankyung gathered the unresisting prince into his arms, pulling him close. The other boy's next words were soft, murmured into the Prince's ears-Donghae had to strain his own ears to catch them, and he felt by then as if his entire body were focused in on the scene, every sense trained towards the studio and the two young men inside it.
"It's going to be okay, I know it," Hankyung said, still hugging the prince for comfort. "Whatever happens, I know how strong you are, and I have faith in you."
Siwon said nothing, but his own arms came up, returning the other boy's embrace. His fingers curled tightly into the cloth of Hankyung's t-shirt. His head tilted back, and then they were both looking into each others eyes. Donghae's thoughts flew wild for a second-are they going to-but went unfinished, brain shying away and shutting down, and then it didn't matter anyway because the moment passed, the prince and his friend shifting apart.
"Siwon," Hankyung began, but the prince interrupted him.
"Let's go to Paris."
"I-what?" the other boy was visibly startled. Siwon kept a grip on his forearms, and a new light in his eyes had replaced the anger-they shone now with fierce desperation.
"We can go. Tonight. We can just get on a plane, we can fly away and never look back."
Hankyung laughed, but it was a soft and nervous sound. "I don't understand... you want to run away? Siwon, that's not like you."
"I've done it before," Siwon retorted, stubborn.
"When you were sixteen." Hankyung still seemed doubtful.
Prince Siwon sprung into motion then, pacing, full of furious energy and movement. "And what if it is like me? What if that's exactly what I'm like-the real me, the person I would be if I didn't constantly have to behave myself, to be a perfect role model, to be so... so..."
"Like a prince?" Hankyung suggested softly, his eyes sad.
Whirling back towards the other boy, Siwon reached for him once more, this time holding onto his shoulders. "Hankyung, let's go. You said you've always wanted to see the Parisian ballet-we could do it. We could do anything we wanted to do. And... and we could be together." Everything about the Prince was pleading-his voice, his eyes-even the hand that he lifted to the other boy's face, cupping his cheek. The prince took a visible breath, and Donghae realized he'd been holding his own for so long that his lungs felt tight, strained for lack of air. He inhaled as quietly as possible, gaze never straying from the Prince as he delivered the final ultimatum.
"Hankyung, yes or no. Will you come?"
Slowly, as if it pained him, the other boy drew Siwon's hand away, stepping back. "No," he whispered, shaking his head to emphasize the denial. Immediately the prince shut down, expression closing off, retreating to the cold and remote mask he usually wore. Donghae bit his lip, aching for him, more caught up in the moment than a stranger had any right to be.
"I can't, Siwon," the young dancer continued, and now it was his turn to show his frustration. "You ask the impossible. How can I drop out of school? I would lose my scholarship, everything. And how would we live? What could we do, by ourselves?" Again, he shook his head. "You're upset, you're not thinking clearly."
Siwon's stone mask slipped a bit. He looked stubborn. "I would figure something out, once we got there. What happened to you having faith in me?"
"And what about me? I can't believe you would ask me to go away, leave everything here that I've worked for, for years-all because of a crazy impulse. It's not fair, Siwon."
The prince's eyes were downcast, his arms crossed over his chest, fingers tightening against the muscles of his forearms. "Not fair?" he repeated, tone light over the words, as if he were amused. When he spoke again, there was an aura of ice and steel to him that reached even Donghae, who wasn't even in the same room; gooseflesh sprang up along his own arms, and he shivered.
"My parents will have me wed to some stranger within the week," The prince was saying in a cool, flat-edged voice. "Within a year, they'll be expecting me to produce heirs of my own. I'm barely twenty-one, but I'll finish school, and I'll raise a family with this stranger, and everything I must do for the rest of my life will revolve around my family, till I'll hardly remember a time when it didn't, or a time when I wanted something else for myself-" At last the prince looked up, meeting the other boy's gaze. "When I wanted someone else."
Siwon reached out again-and even from where he watched, Donghae could see it would be for the last time. "It's the beginning of the end for us," the prince said. "Unless we go away, Hankyung, unless we escape it."
There was a dreadful silence, heavy and thick with all that was not being said.
"I'm so sorry," the other boy whispered, after the silence had stretched as thin as a wire between them. "I can't. I love you, but I can't do this."
The prince's arm fell back to his side, and he said nothing more.
The silence went on for ages; Hankyung broke it first, seemingly unable to bear it any longer. "I should go," he said. He leaned towards the Prince, as if it were ingrained habit-but the Prince turned his head, a quiet rejection. Hankyung hesitated, but finally leaned the rest of the way in, pressing a kiss to the corner of the Prince's mouth. Siwon shut his eyes-but for that small movement, he could have been carved from stone.
The other boy gathered his things and left the room without a further word spoken between them. Donghae, who had been frozen with shock for pretty much their entire conversation, had a sudden moment of panic that Hankyung might head into the stairwell, and then Donghae would be caught. But the young dancer moved down the hallway instead, walking briskly; soon he turned a corner and disappeared from sight.
Donghae pressed a hand to his chest, feeling his heart still thumping loudly under his palm; he breathed deep, willing himself to calm down. There was a soft sound and shadow of movement from the classroom. Donghae turned back and saw Prince Siwon sit down at one of the desks-slowly he propped his elbows on top of it, and buried his face in his hands.
Almost against his will Donghae stood up, and step by step moved into the hallway, facing the open door. Though he repeatedly told himself to just turn around and leave, his feet didn't move one centimeter back towards the stairs, and his eyes continue resting on the prince's motionless form.
Prince Siwon wasn't crying, or even making a single sound. But the slump of his shoulders looked so exhausted that Donghae's own body began to ache a little in sympathy.
Donghae had no idea what he was still doing there. Truly, in five seconds he would leave, return the prince his privacy and solitude, and then he'd do his utmost to try and forget everything he'd just heard and seen. None of it was any of his business, none of it.
After all, Donghae had never even met the prince before, and would honestly have nothing to say to the guy if he did. That's why it was utterly ridiculous that Donghae should standing there and wracking his brain, trying to think of something, anything to say-whatever words might work to make the prince smile, to help him feel less tired.
I'm really going to walk away now, Donghae commanded himself, but his feet were frozen to the floor. However, his inner debate became a moot point, when his cellphone chose that moment to start ringing, blaring pop-electro music at a volume that Donghae was sure could be heard across campus by the entire student body.
At the sound, all inner struggle was forgotten and he turned gazelle, instinctively leaping for the escape of the stairwell, running down the steps two at a time, all while his hands fumbled in his many pants pockets, trying to find the noisy phone. He jammed his hands into each of his pockets, stumbling reckless down the stairs, cursing "shit, shit, shit!" in an unbroken mantra.
Donghae was literally two steps away from the ground floor exit and from freedom when his cellphone finally came to his hand, and he pressed the button to silence it just as the caller gave up on reaching him. He threw his body against the door, depressing the lever with his hip, ready to fling it open and let his momentum carry him into the hallway-but a sudden grip on his arm sent him lurching to a stop, and his momentum was used against him as he was forcibly spun around.
Heart hammering-fear or anticipation or both-Donghae lifted his eyes, staring up to face the coldly furious expression of the prince.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
© 2007
| Next chapter >> |
a/n: thank yous to ch_ar_me and meiface for helping beta this chapter.
6/01/2010 - this chapter is the edited and reposted version of the original.
Author: phasera
Pairing: Siwon/Donghae
Summary: (AU) Loosely inspired by the k-drama Princess Hours.
Chapters: o1 | o2 | o3 | o4 | o5 | o6 | o7 | o8 | o9 | 10 | #
Note: This story is incomplete, and I will not be working on it anytime soon. I appreciate the readers who still enjoy this story, and I'm sorry I cannot promise you a conclusion.
------------------------Chapter 2------------------------
As it turned out, Donghae, Sungmin, and Hyukjae were all quick with their brushes, but even fleeter on their feet. After a successful evasion of the assistant dean and other school authorities, the three of them sat in the Student Union near the center of campus-and far from the scene of the crime-celebrating their bold artistic venture over coffee and doughnuts. Hyukjae had pulled his laptop from his bag, gleefully reporting that pictures of their mural were already being posted up on twitter, cyworld, and facebook.
Chin propped on his hand, Donghae let his attention slowly drift away from the conversation. Instead of listening to Hyukjae read out some of the rave reviews, for some reason Donghae found himself wondering if Prince Siwon had seen the mural, and what he might he have thought of it: would he have liked it, or thought it was funny? But no, that wasn't possible-low-brow humor could never amuse a sophisticated aristocrat like him. The prince probably thought their prank was immature and uncouth in the extreme. Donghae wasn't quite sure what uncouth meant, but his grandfather liked to call him that whenever Donghae landed in the fire, and the old man had worked at the palace for decades before retiring.
Strangely, the hypothetical idea of the prince's disapproval made Donghae feel anxious, wondering if there were anything they could have done to make their painting more explosive, more impressive, more… more something.
"Hello, Earth to Donghae," Sungmin called, probably not for the first time, snapping his fingers under Donghae's nose. Donghae blinked and straightened, belatedly finishing off the half-eaten doughnut that had been dangling from his fingers for the past several minutes.
"Geez, you're even more spaced-out than usual this morning," Hyukjae complained. But it was said with a smirk; Donghae's roommates had maintained for years that one day his head would become so full of air that he'd simply lift off and drift away into the atmosphere.
"Cut me some slack, I'm running on nothing but three hours sleep and adrenaline, here." He punctuated the excuse with a large swallow coffee.
"Yeah, and you look like it, too," Hyukjae teased, and Donghae shot him a glare over the rim of his cup.
Sungmin was scrubbing at a splash of paint on his arm with some spit and a napkin. "Actually, we should all probably try to clean up a bit before we show up to our classes," he suggested, tossing the napkin down when it proved useless. They all agreed this was probably wise and stood up, stretching muscles stiff with hours of painting while perching on ladders or dangling from rope seats. Donghae turned to snatch up the last jelly doughnut from the table, and then froze with it halfway to his mouth.
Unluckily for them, standing up had put them directly in the line of sight of the assistant dean and some of his staff who had been scanning the cafeteria from the doors at the top of the stairs. Donghae locked gazes with the assistant dean for the second time that morning, his eyes going wide like a deer caught in headlights. The older man wasted no time, he was already pointing and signaling for his cronies to converge on their location.
"Back way," he blurted, grabbing his bag and his friends' arms at the same time. The doughnut that he'd dropped landed in a mini-explosion of powdered sugar on his shoe, but he ignored it in favor of more urgent matters. "The A.D. is here, he saw us-we've got to go out the back, right now."
In a flurry of movement and annoyed exclamations, the trio pushed and wove their way through the tables, their feet squeaking against the linoleum when they finally hit open space, and they smashed through the back doors to the Student Union almost at a run.
They paused just outside to catch their breath and decide where to hide next. "We should split up," Sungmin panted.
Hyukjae nodded agreement. "North for me," he said, falling quickly into one of their many tried-and-true getaway patterns.
"West," Sungmin claimed next.
Donghae didn't want to go alone, but he knew it was probably safest. "I guess I get east campus, then." He held out his right hand and his roommates clasped it with their own. Donghae grinned cockily, as if a second escape was already a foregone conclusion. "See you guys at lunch?"
"Or in Hell," Hyukjae joked. Laughing, they shook on it and then without wasting any more time they raced off in their three different directions, three points on a compass, looking more like kids playing hide-and-seek than students working diligently towards their education.
But it's hard to get educated if you're expelled, Donghae reasoned with a grin still stuck on his face; his feet, in agreement, ran a little bit faster.
~*~
Prince Siwon hadn't taken more than ten steps onto campus that morning before he'd been surrounded by his fellow students; they were first year freshmen and young girls who insisted on waving at him and trying to touch him and snapping pictures of him. He never quite understood why so many people insisted on acting as if Siwon were some kind of famous actor or pop idol, rather than rather boring political leader's son that he actually was.
It was a fairly frequent occurrence but never failed to baffle the prince, who couldn't understand what it was they expected him to do; most often he ended up just standing there, keeping his expression as neutral and polite as possible. If he were in a good mood, he might smile at them or wave back.
Not surprisingly, on that particular morning the Prince was most decidedly not in a good mood.
Part of it was due to the fact that this morning's rush had come as a surprise. His staff had chosen this back entrance to the campus for a reason; it was usually almost deserted this early in the day. Siwon was used to being able to walk to his first lecture in relative peace. But now-judging by the size of the crowd, and it was still growing-he'd be lucky if he could make it to his class at all.
Siwon leaned closer to one of his Security staff. "What's the problem?" he asked the man in an undertone. "Why are there so many people here?"
The man touched the communication piece hooked to his ear, listened to one of his men through it, and bobbed his head in acknowledgment of the prince's impatient tone. "Yes, your Highness, we're looking into that now."
A minute later, he touched Siwon's sleeve to get his attention, pointing towards the large building ahead of them on the pathway. "Apparently there was some sort of art showing at the atrium this morning, and many students have stopped by to see the paintings."
Siwon lifted one eyebrow, curious. He still could see nothing, but his staff worked very efficiently; already the crowd around him was being dispersed, the students being strongly encouraged to step away and return to their classes.
The first thing Prince Siwon saw clearly, however, was the massive form of the university's Dean of Students hurrying towards him. The man's face was flushed so dark red it was purple, and he was perspiring even in the cool morning air.
"Your Majesty," the Dean huffed as soon as he was in range, using the wrong title for the Prince as he usually did. Siwon rolled his eyes but didn't bother to correct it.
"Good morning, Dean," Siwon told him cordially, but inwardly he groaned. On Siwon's first day at the school Dean Ho Dong had insisted on guiding the Prince through every building on campus, expounding the virtues of each one at great length until what might have been a quick visit had stretched for four painfully long hours. Siwon had never quite forgiven the man for that. He hated to have his time wasted by anyone.
"Your Grace," the Dean huffed, getting even redder in the face as he fought to catch his breath and be obsequious at the same time. "I humbly beg forgiveness for the extreme rudeness of our students this morning. The delay to your schedule is unforgivable; we should have taken down all their names and handed them over to the Assistant Dean, put every last one of them on academic probation."
"Hardly necessary, Dean," the Prince said, shouldering the strap on his school bag and starting down the walkway towards the inner campus, in hopes that the older man might take the hint and leave. Siwon's security mostly remained with the car-he was always required to have two bodyguards with him, though they stayed back at a farther distance than normal when he was at school. It was a piece of freedom that Siwon had argued long and hard for with his parents during his first year.
But within a few moments of walking, they were within full view of the atrium and the twenty-foot mural that had suddenly adorned it overnight. Siwon stopped in his tracks, initially just surprised, but soon forced to admire it just as many of the other students had. And even in spite of Siwon's black mood, looking at it brought a small smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. But he wiped his expression clean as the Dean began sputtering anew, growling about "unseemly graffiti" and "juvenile tomfoolery."
The mural stretched over almost the entire glass front of the atrium; just by the scale of it, Siwon was impressed that the artists-whom he assumed to be a small group of students-had managed to complete the project in just one night. The second thing that stood out were the bright and cheery colors, ranging from primaries to neons. The kaleidoscope of colors came in the form of huge tropical fish, swimming their way across the glass, all with large cartoonish eyes and wearing different comical (and sometimes obscene) expressions. The centerpiece of the mural, however, was a silvery-blue whale that was grinning toothily; the whale was spouting water from its blowhole, and floating red-faced on the crest of the spray was a caricature of Dean Ho Dong himself. Finally, as the pièce de résistance, a caption written along the bottom of the mural read: Dean Kang Ho Dong really blows!
Cute. Prince Siwon coughed discreetly, covering a laugh.
"Such a horrific vandalism, the university will never countenance this kind of behavior, and as soon as the perpetrators are found-" the Dean was still muttering, more to himself than to the Prince.
Siwon was struck by a sudden sadistic mood and interrupted the man, feigning astonishment. "Surely you can't mean that, Dean?" He looked back towards the atrium in an exaggerated display of admiration. "I feel that this mural adds a wonderful touch of whimsy and charm to the school," he lauded it, biting down a smirk as he watched the older man color from red to a sickly shade of puce.
After gaping like the fish in the painting for a moment, the Dean recovered his senses enough to begin staging another, weaker protest. "But, your Majesty, that is to say-our fine school-that is, an academic forum such as this, having such inappropriate displays-"
"You mean you intend to have it removed?" Siwon shook his head. "What a waste of such a brilliantly avant garde piece."
"I-that is, the school. . ." But the Dean trailed off, at a loss for words in the face of this dilemma. He could now have the mural removed at the risk of the Crown Prince's disapproval, or he could leave it as it was and continue to be ridiculed by the entire student body.
There, Siwon thought with satisfaction, now that excruciating tour had been avenged.
"You'll excuse me, Dean, but I am already late for class," the prince inclined his head in farewell, and walked towards the main campus once more; this time, thankfully, the Dean stayed behind. Siwon glanced back and saw the man mopping the sweat off his forehead with a handkerchief, looking well and truly flummoxed.
The prince's mood plummeted back to its previous gloomy state as soon as he was once again alone with his thoughts, with nothing to distract him from reliving that morning's conversation. His stomach felt as if it were tied in a cold knot, while his emotions tugged him in three different directions. Part of him wanted to be furious with the King and Queen, while another part felt guilty for not being the obedient son they'd raised him to be; for not being eager and content simply to do whatever his family asked of him.
But mostly-if he was willing to admit it to himself-Siwon just felt terrified.
He was already ages late for his first lecture, and in no state of mind to try and focus on his studies in any case; as Siwon reached the Quad in the middle of campus, he detoured to the right, heading east rather than west towards his International Economics class as he should have done.
There was only one person in the world the prince wanted to see just then. Though Hankyung didn't have classes till later in the afternoon, Siwon knew the likeliest place to find him at this time of day.
Approaching the College of Arts, Siwon glanced towards his bodyguards. The two men did nothing overt to acknowledge his look, but they sat down outside the entrance, pulling out newspapers to read while they waited.
As Siwon entered through the tinted glass doors, he already felt a fraction lighter, as if some of the weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He had always liked this building: there were always muffled sounds of classical music from the practice rooms, no matter the time of day, along with sharp scents of paint and turpentine from the art studios on the second floor.
Reaching his destination-a mirrored dance studio in the farthest corner of the ground floor, one full of tall windows that let in lots of light-Siwon smiled slightly at finding Hankyung exactly where he'd expected him to be.
Siwon paused at the entrance, leaning against the frame of the door as he watched the other boy perform a complex, bounding glide across the polished wooden floors, ending with a fully extended leap that looked utterly effortless. Hankyung always moved in ways that seemed impossible to Siwon, as if the other boy's body held helium, as if he were lighter than air.
Finally Hankyung paused to catch his breath, his form silhouetted by the sunlit windows; the sudden stillness was an odd contrast after such vibrant movements. And rather than in affection, Siwon's heart clenched with a sudden panic, so much so that he stepped into the room, walking swiftly towards the other boy and embracing him from behind, encircling his shoulders as Siwon pressed his nose against the warmth of the Hankyung's neck. Siwon ignored the tickling strands of Hankyung's hair to breathe him in, inhaling the comforting scent of sunlight and sweat and a hint of spice that Siwon recognize as the cologne he'd bought as a gift for Hankyung that past Christmas.
"Siwon," Hankyung exclaimed, his voice colored with surprise. Hankyung had been born in mainland China, but he'd immigrated to Korea at a young age in order to live with his relatives. The other boy never said much about his past, but he had always carried a reminder of it in the faintest trace of an accent that lingered no matter how often he practiced his speech.
"What are you doing here?" Hankyung turned to face the prince, and Siwon reluctantly let his arms fall back to his sides. "Shouldn't you be in your first class?"
Now that he was here, all that Siwon had been planning to tell Hankyung sat like lead weights in the pit of his stomach. The words still clamored through his brain, running on the same loop that had been repeating in the back of his mind ever since his mother had announced it to him at breakfast.
I have to get married.
"I just-I wanted to see you," Siwon said, words clumsy as they tripped over the lump in his throat.
"Oh, is that all?" Hankyung smiled, and hugged Siwon around his waist to return the previous embrace. "You couldn't have waited a few hours until lunch?"
The prince knew he would have to say it, and say it all-better sooner, rather than later. He took a breath. "Something's happened," he said.
Hankyung at last seemed to pick up on the peculiarities in Siwon's behavior. He let go and stepped back to search Siwon's face, worry beginning to form creases between his own brow. "Is something wrong? What is it?"
"Would you mind if we went somewhere else to talk?"
"There are a few empty studios on the second floor, I think, being refurbished. We can go up there," Hankyung said.
~*~
Donghae clung to the shadows, silent as a leaf in the wind, moving between trees with all the stealth of an elite ninja warrior-no, ten elite ninja warriors-
"Excuse me? Hey, could you help me out?"
Surprised by the nudge against his shoulder, Donghae yelped like a cat and whirled to press his back against the trunk of a tree, the one he'd moments ago been peering around in order to search for signs of the assistant dean on his trail.
A young female student had interrupted him, juggling a heavy load of boxes and folders that looked ready to slip through her hands at any minute. She nodded her head towards the nearby entrance of the College of Arts, looking more than a little impatient. "Little help, please?" she repeated.
"Oh... oh! Yeah, of course, I'll just-yeah," Donghae stammered, embarrassed to have been caught mid-sneak. Rushing to the doors, he pulled one side open, and the girl swept past him with a grudging word of thanks. He followed her in, thinking to lend a hand with the boxes-but she was already marching competently down the hallway, far ahead of him. Donghae was left standing there feeling awkward, rubbing the back of the neck and wondering what he should do next.
Suddenly paranoid once more, he squinted through the doors back outside, eyes tracking along the path towards the campus commons and along the trees dotting the grassy lawn. But the only adults in sight were two well-built men in suits and sunglasses, sitting on a bench and reading newspapers. Donghae had already been spying on them for the past five minutes, and for the most part he was certain they had nothing to do with the A.D. or any other school administrator.
It looked as if a clean getaway had been accomplished. Smirking, Donghae used his thumbnail to scrape some paint off of his watch so he could read it-there was still had lots of time to kill before his Advanced Pottery class. He wandered down the empty hallway, and debated tracking down some snack machines: he was hungry, and the doughnuts had hardly been filling, especially after all the running he'd done this morning. But the caffeine from his three espressos must have kicked in, because suddenly he felt in a productive mood. So he decided to skip the snacks and head upstairs to get an early start on glazing the pot he'd sculpted as a present for his grandfather.
Whistling in time with his bounding steps, Donghae flung open the door to the stairwell and climbed up to the second floor. If he finished firing the pot early enough, he could take it with him on tonight's visit to Grandpa Lee, and tell the old man all about their mural and the dumbfounded look on Dean Ho Dong's face.
He was in the middle of trying to decide between turquoise glaze or teal glaze when a snatch of conversation drifted down from the second floor, the voices amplified by the enclosed space of the stairwell enough to distract Donghae from his own thoughts and slow his steps.
"-Not acting like yourself, and I'm worried. Siwon, please, just tell me what’s going on."
As Donghae's brain deciphered what he was hearing, he stilled completely, frozen in surprise. Had that guy just said Siwon? As in, Prince Siwon? How many Siwons could there be in this school? As he wondered this, Donghae realized he was already continuing up the stairs, creeping as silently as a thief before he'd even made a conscious decision to keep on eavesdropping.
He knew he shouldn't. It was wrong, an invasion of privacy.
But oh, he was curious.
Grandpa Lee had always told him was very wrong to snoop in other people's business... when you get caught. True, there was also an addendum to that motto: if you go looking for trouble, you’re probably going to find some.
Donghae conveniently chose to forget about that last part, at least for today. At any rate, he had already reached the stairwell exit, it was too late to turn back. Crouching down, he peered around the door and across the hallway. There were two young men standing in the empty art studio that was directly opposite to the stairs. One of the boys turned in Donghae's direction, and his breath caught in his throat-so it was the Prince, after all.
Spying on a royal prince-could he go to jail for this? Be beheaded? Have his tongue cut out, or his eyes gouged for his insolence? Donghae swallowed, nervously twirling the ring on his finger; his thoughts also continued to spin a mile a minute, wild with speculation. And though the fates he imagined for himself grew steadily more morbid and gruesome, he didn't move an inch. Donghae's wide eyes stayed glued on the figures in front of him while he hung on their every word.
Prince Siwon finally looked up towards his companion, but Donghae was too far away to interpret the black glint in his eyes.
"I'm to be married," the Prince said, the tone of his voice flat and devoid of inflection. "My parents told me this morning. It's a contract betrothal, something my Grandfather made the deal for when I was a child."
Donghae's eyes widened even more. I really shouldn't be here, he thought. But still, he made no move to leave.
The second boy moved towards the prince-he was also tall and good-looking, and Donghae noted he had the build and characteristics of a dancer. He also spoke with some sort of accent, but it was faint. "It is hard to hear that," the boy said, gently, while clasping the prince's arm. "But we always knew it would happen eventually..."
The Prince jerked his arm away from the touch, the suddenness and the barely-contained anger of that movement sending Donghae's heart leaping to his throat. By now he wouldn't have been able to leave even if wild stallions had arrived to drag him from the scene.
"By the end of the week, Hankyung," Siwon said, and by then some of his frustration had leaked into his voice. "I'm to be married on my birthday." He laughed then, a sharp bitter sound. "What a wonderful gift from my family, don't you think?"
Frowning darkly, the prince reached into his pocket, pulling out some kind of ring. It lay glinting in his palm, and the Prince stared at it, glaring as if through will alone he could melt the silver away to nothing.
The other boy-Hankyung-had reached out once more to the Prince, but his hand hovered uncertainly between them. The prince's fingers curled around his ring, and he shoved it back into hiding. Hankyung's arm fell back to his side, his gesture going unnoticed. "But you've expected this for years now," he began, sounding tentative. "It shouldn't have to change anything."
"It changes everything," Siwon snarled, almost shouting, and the glint in his eyes had turned to a full-fledged blaze while he gestured madly, as if his body could barely contain him. "Can't you see it? This is my life-my life, and I can't even-" he suddenly broke off, rubbing his hands over his face; the fire in him had been tamped down as quickly as it had erupted.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't take it out on you," the Prince went on after a long pause, much more subdued. "It's just that I... I don't know what to do," he finally confessed. In that moment the Prince sounded much younger than his twenty years. Watching him, Donghae’s hands had somehow come clasped together and pressed themselves over his mouth, and he didn't know what he was trying to hold back from saying. This was none of his business.
Donghae continued to stare as Hankyung gathered the unresisting prince into his arms, pulling him close. The other boy's next words were soft, murmured into the Prince's ears-Donghae had to strain his own ears to catch them, and he felt by then as if his entire body were focused in on the scene, every sense trained towards the studio and the two young men inside it.
"It's going to be okay, I know it," Hankyung said, still hugging the prince for comfort. "Whatever happens, I know how strong you are, and I have faith in you."
Siwon said nothing, but his own arms came up, returning the other boy's embrace. His fingers curled tightly into the cloth of Hankyung's t-shirt. His head tilted back, and then they were both looking into each others eyes. Donghae's thoughts flew wild for a second-are they going to-but went unfinished, brain shying away and shutting down, and then it didn't matter anyway because the moment passed, the prince and his friend shifting apart.
"Siwon," Hankyung began, but the prince interrupted him.
"Let's go to Paris."
"I-what?" the other boy was visibly startled. Siwon kept a grip on his forearms, and a new light in his eyes had replaced the anger-they shone now with fierce desperation.
"We can go. Tonight. We can just get on a plane, we can fly away and never look back."
Hankyung laughed, but it was a soft and nervous sound. "I don't understand... you want to run away? Siwon, that's not like you."
"I've done it before," Siwon retorted, stubborn.
"When you were sixteen." Hankyung still seemed doubtful.
Prince Siwon sprung into motion then, pacing, full of furious energy and movement. "And what if it is like me? What if that's exactly what I'm like-the real me, the person I would be if I didn't constantly have to behave myself, to be a perfect role model, to be so... so..."
"Like a prince?" Hankyung suggested softly, his eyes sad.
Whirling back towards the other boy, Siwon reached for him once more, this time holding onto his shoulders. "Hankyung, let's go. You said you've always wanted to see the Parisian ballet-we could do it. We could do anything we wanted to do. And... and we could be together." Everything about the Prince was pleading-his voice, his eyes-even the hand that he lifted to the other boy's face, cupping his cheek. The prince took a visible breath, and Donghae realized he'd been holding his own for so long that his lungs felt tight, strained for lack of air. He inhaled as quietly as possible, gaze never straying from the Prince as he delivered the final ultimatum.
"Hankyung, yes or no. Will you come?"
Slowly, as if it pained him, the other boy drew Siwon's hand away, stepping back. "No," he whispered, shaking his head to emphasize the denial. Immediately the prince shut down, expression closing off, retreating to the cold and remote mask he usually wore. Donghae bit his lip, aching for him, more caught up in the moment than a stranger had any right to be.
"I can't, Siwon," the young dancer continued, and now it was his turn to show his frustration. "You ask the impossible. How can I drop out of school? I would lose my scholarship, everything. And how would we live? What could we do, by ourselves?" Again, he shook his head. "You're upset, you're not thinking clearly."
Siwon's stone mask slipped a bit. He looked stubborn. "I would figure something out, once we got there. What happened to you having faith in me?"
"And what about me? I can't believe you would ask me to go away, leave everything here that I've worked for, for years-all because of a crazy impulse. It's not fair, Siwon."
The prince's eyes were downcast, his arms crossed over his chest, fingers tightening against the muscles of his forearms. "Not fair?" he repeated, tone light over the words, as if he were amused. When he spoke again, there was an aura of ice and steel to him that reached even Donghae, who wasn't even in the same room; gooseflesh sprang up along his own arms, and he shivered.
"My parents will have me wed to some stranger within the week," The prince was saying in a cool, flat-edged voice. "Within a year, they'll be expecting me to produce heirs of my own. I'm barely twenty-one, but I'll finish school, and I'll raise a family with this stranger, and everything I must do for the rest of my life will revolve around my family, till I'll hardly remember a time when it didn't, or a time when I wanted something else for myself-" At last the prince looked up, meeting the other boy's gaze. "When I wanted someone else."
Siwon reached out again-and even from where he watched, Donghae could see it would be for the last time. "It's the beginning of the end for us," the prince said. "Unless we go away, Hankyung, unless we escape it."
There was a dreadful silence, heavy and thick with all that was not being said.
"I'm so sorry," the other boy whispered, after the silence had stretched as thin as a wire between them. "I can't. I love you, but I can't do this."
The prince's arm fell back to his side, and he said nothing more.
The silence went on for ages; Hankyung broke it first, seemingly unable to bear it any longer. "I should go," he said. He leaned towards the Prince, as if it were ingrained habit-but the Prince turned his head, a quiet rejection. Hankyung hesitated, but finally leaned the rest of the way in, pressing a kiss to the corner of the Prince's mouth. Siwon shut his eyes-but for that small movement, he could have been carved from stone.
The other boy gathered his things and left the room without a further word spoken between them. Donghae, who had been frozen with shock for pretty much their entire conversation, had a sudden moment of panic that Hankyung might head into the stairwell, and then Donghae would be caught. But the young dancer moved down the hallway instead, walking briskly; soon he turned a corner and disappeared from sight.
Donghae pressed a hand to his chest, feeling his heart still thumping loudly under his palm; he breathed deep, willing himself to calm down. There was a soft sound and shadow of movement from the classroom. Donghae turned back and saw Prince Siwon sit down at one of the desks-slowly he propped his elbows on top of it, and buried his face in his hands.
Almost against his will Donghae stood up, and step by step moved into the hallway, facing the open door. Though he repeatedly told himself to just turn around and leave, his feet didn't move one centimeter back towards the stairs, and his eyes continue resting on the prince's motionless form.
Prince Siwon wasn't crying, or even making a single sound. But the slump of his shoulders looked so exhausted that Donghae's own body began to ache a little in sympathy.
Donghae had no idea what he was still doing there. Truly, in five seconds he would leave, return the prince his privacy and solitude, and then he'd do his utmost to try and forget everything he'd just heard and seen. None of it was any of his business, none of it.
After all, Donghae had never even met the prince before, and would honestly have nothing to say to the guy if he did. That's why it was utterly ridiculous that Donghae should standing there and wracking his brain, trying to think of something, anything to say-whatever words might work to make the prince smile, to help him feel less tired.
I'm really going to walk away now, Donghae commanded himself, but his feet were frozen to the floor. However, his inner debate became a moot point, when his cellphone chose that moment to start ringing, blaring pop-electro music at a volume that Donghae was sure could be heard across campus by the entire student body.
At the sound, all inner struggle was forgotten and he turned gazelle, instinctively leaping for the escape of the stairwell, running down the steps two at a time, all while his hands fumbled in his many pants pockets, trying to find the noisy phone. He jammed his hands into each of his pockets, stumbling reckless down the stairs, cursing "shit, shit, shit!" in an unbroken mantra.
Donghae was literally two steps away from the ground floor exit and from freedom when his cellphone finally came to his hand, and he pressed the button to silence it just as the caller gave up on reaching him. He threw his body against the door, depressing the lever with his hip, ready to fling it open and let his momentum carry him into the hallway-but a sudden grip on his arm sent him lurching to a stop, and his momentum was used against him as he was forcibly spun around.
Heart hammering-fear or anticipation or both-Donghae lifted his eyes, staring up to face the coldly furious expression of the prince.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
© 2007
| Next chapter >> |
a/n: thank yous to ch_ar_me and meiface for helping beta this chapter.
6/01/2010 - this chapter is the edited and reposted version of the original.