When San opens his eyes to a threshold of shimmering translucent leaves, he almost doesn't know what to think at first. After nearly a week of not having any kind of dreams in particular, San had slept over at Mingi's this Friday, and now, here he is again at that same forest.

Is there some sort of pattern? San thinks to himself, but he really doesn't know, as Mingi's aunt only said he transports while lucid dreaming. She also doesn't know the minute details of what he actually dreams about, and for now San doesn't want to tell her, in case he discovers something about himself he knows he shouldn't.

The spongy grass beneath him is familiar to the touch by now, tickling his bare elbows. When San glances down at himself, he's dies a little inside when he sees what he's wearing: a large white tshirt with a couple soup stains on it, as well as these bright yellow pyjama bottoms.

Oh my god. Honestly, it isn't San's fault that these dreams in particular show up at random. He also stayed at Mingi's house when he had the last one though, but San figures that doesn't really count.

Remembering what happened the last time he was here, San quickly peers out into the distance and at the many tall trees that surround him. There don't seem to be any 'Jukls' here this time around (or whatever it is that Wooyoung called them), which settles San's state of mind considerably.

"...most likely here. ...saw him, Yeosang."

San turns rigid at the faint voice he hears right then, panicking when he doesn't know where it comes from exactly. He throws himself on his feet, on high alert in case something -- or someone -- decides to ambush or something. San really hopes that isn't the case. He can't take any more scares.

Footsteps crunch over fallen leaves and branches. San stills, and the only thing he hears for a moment is his heartbeat.

More footsteps shuffle down the clearing, leisured and loud. San's more than sure now that they're coming from the left of him, and just as he spins to that side, a silhouette slithers in.

San pauses, and the person does as well, but then they take another step forward, the sunlight hitting them head-on.

Tan skin, blue eyes and long, braided hair greet San's vision, and he feels his breaths stutter in his throat. The male before him is dressed in another dark tunic, intricate golden designs sewn into its flowy fabric.

When he notices San's stare, he breaks out into a bright grin and turns to something behind him.

"See? I told you he would be there, Yeosang, and he is!" He proclaims at the unresponsive elf. San would've laughed at the unimpressed look 'Yeosang' gives the prince right then if they weren't talking about him this very second.

"You said that the day before, your highness," Yeosang states, his unreadable hazel eyes glancing San's way for a moment. San still can't believe that this is happening, if this is real or not. "And the day before that. And the day before tha -- "

"Enough," the prince, or 'Wooyoung' commands, though it sounds like whining more than anything else. He faces San again, and once more San feels his heart racing to extreme lengths.

The dark haired elf moves forward, careful as if he doesn't want San startled. As if he doesn't want him to run. He removes something long and narrrow off his shoulders, and San spots what looks to be arrows --

"Do not fret," Wooyoung immediately announces. "I will not shoot them at you. I come in peace." As if to prove his point, he hurls the bundle of arrows at Yeosang, the other elf quickly catching it before it hits his face.

San is speechless when the prince draws closer, so close that there's only a few feet between them now. Up close, he realizes the elf is taller, if only by an inch or two. There's also a mole under his left eye and another one on his bottom lip, which is currently moving.

"...hear me? Hello?" The elf calls out, and San hurriedly clears his throat, hoping he really didn't get caught staring at the guy's mouth.

Like Mingi said, the worst thing to do right now is to stare like a freaking creep --

"Hello? Yeo, I fear he might be disappearing on us again."

"He's still standing there, idiot."

"I realize I preferred it when you'd strictly referred to me by title. Being friends with you has certainly opened a pandora's box, it seems."

San blinks, only to see the one called Yeosang sigh in the distance, looking just about done with life.

A clear of the throat commences, and San's attention is then drawn to the elf before him. His blue eyes are daunting, trained solely on his features.

"Hello," Wooyoung greets once again. He presses a palm to his chest, revealing smooth fingers covered with tattoo-like designs and many rings. "My name is Wooyoung."

I know. San keeps his mouth shut before he says anything stupid.

"You can't tell him your name!" Yeosang whisper-yells from the back.

Wooyoung sighs. "Well, he already knows yours."

"My identity is not important. Yours is!"

"Hey, I'm San," San suddenly blurts, because like always he hates it when others argue or get mad at each other, especially if it's because of him.

The two elves turn quiet, so quiet in fact that the singing birds in the sky are all San hears right then.

But then Wooyoung grins, exposing a set of noticeable canines. "San? Your name is lovely, San."

San feels his neck flush, and hopes Wooyoung doesn't pick up on it. "Likewise."

Wooyoung's smile widens, and then he clears his throat again. "Your accent is odd. Where are you from?"

"So much for being cordial," Yeosang says. He still keeps a respectable distance between them, but San can still see how he regards him cautiously.

"Oh my god, Yeosang. I am just trying to be friendly," Wooyoung groans, pinching the space between his brows.

San, however, is nervous. He still has no idea if this place is actually real or if he is dreaming, and if this is real, he doesn't know how these elves see human beings in particular. Yunho's kingdom has an alliance with Mingi's aunt, but San isn't so sure about these guys.

"Are you human?" Yeosang suddenly asks, eyes trailing over San's clothes. San's ears burn with deep-rooted embarrassment. "Your clothing is...peculiar."

"How could he be a human? Only otherwordly beings have ever been allowed to step into this forest," Wooyoung says, which has San's heart skipping a beat.

"This forest?" San finds himself asking, thoughts too quick to formulate a better sentence.

"This is the enchanted forest of Zeeta," Wooyoung readily answers, gesturing broadly at their spacious surroundings like he's proud to show this off to San. "This magnificent and bountiful flora and fauna that Ynita has blessed our kingdom with. Is it to your liking, San?"

With Wooyoung's lively eyes on him now, expectant, San finds it a little more difficult to breathe.

In fact, he finds it really hard to breathe right now, his chest feeling seconds away from caving in. No, this can't be happening right now.

This can not be happening.

Wooyoung's smile drops, shoulders drawing inward. "You do not like it, do you? Or...or are you so bewitched by my beauty that it has gotten you stunned?"

"You idiot," Yeosang's voice is strained as he stomps closer. "He is clearly panicking at this very moment."

Hearing Yeosang's words has San clutching his chest, his heartbeat racing like crazy. His lungs feel too big for his chest, each inhale hurting like a million needles have just lodged themselves into his chest. His head throbs with pain and his vision swirls, his finger trembling like a leaf.

"Oh god." Wooyoung sounds so alarmed. San feels the elf's warm hands on his arms, and any other moment San would have been blushing like mad. "Quick, Yeosang, bring me the bag."

San doesn't fight back as he's dragged to a nearby tree root, and then he's being carefully seated down on it, far too frazzled to do a thing. It's always like this when he has one of his anxiety attacks, each one leaving him a shell of himself for a considerable amount of time afterwards.

He's shaking when Wooyoung crouches before him, dark hair spilling over the right shoulder. The elf's blue eyes are kind, albeit careful, when he holds up a flask looking thing wrapped with intricately woven leaves.

"You should drink this," Wooyoung says.

"W-What?" San stammers, still struggling to not let his emotions get the best of him.

Wooyoung softly smiles. "It's Gonjl tea, something I drink a few times when I start worrying a little too much. It calms me down. Do not mind the petals if you feel them. They are from the flowers that give it its taste."

San is hesitant about drinking whatever this is, but Wooyoung's eyes are nothing if not sincere. Truthful. Glancing at Yeosang, the elf looks the same as Wooyoung, gaze hooded but not holding any ill intentions.

San tries grasping the flask, but his hands are still shaking. He wants to smack himself for acting like a fool in front of these people, but then Wooyoung leans in and gently presses the container to his lips.

San's heart stills at this, but soon readily sips on the liquid. It's surprisingly sweet, a bit like honey, and fortunately San has always been a fan of sweet things.

Once San swallows a few mouthfuls, avoiding Wooyoung's gaze the entire time, the elf pulls away, shutting the flask as he does so.

Indirect kiss, the stupidly infuriating voice in San's mind utters right then. His thoughts are still racing, still chaotic, but at least his hands don't tremble as much anymore.

"How are you now?" Wooyoung asks, eyes on San's face once again as he all but studies his movements. And each time he does that, San's heart goes into a frenzy. "Gonjl teas take effect very quickly. They soothe the heart, and help me breathe better. Is it the same for you?"

"You are asking him too many things at the same time," Yeosang speaks right then, hands clasped behind his back. His large hazel eyes are curious though about his wellbeing; San can just feel it.

"I am just worried," Wooyoung argues, pushing some strands of hair behind a pointed ear. Golden jewelry glints from the cartilage. "I want him to be okay."

"I -- " San begins, which instantly alerts Wooyoung's attention, only to pause, something foreign in his mouth. He tugs at it and pulls out a deep violet petal.

"It's okay," Wooyoung reassures. "These flowers are only poisonous to people not from around here."

"B-But...I'm not from around here," San says.

"You are not a human, are you?" It's Yeosang that talks this time around, his eyebrows knitted. "Humans can't come around this place."

"Yeosang," Wooyoung warns, tone stern. Facing San, his expression's nothing other than apologetic. "I am sorry, San. He is just a little curious. And I must admit, I too am curious about you. Curious about where you came from, I mean." He clears his throat.

San chews his lip, trying his hardest not to let his anxiety get the best of him. He tells himself over and over that these elves won't do anything bad to him. They even helped to reduce his anxiety attack, for crying out loud.

"I'm dreaming," he begins, voice hushed. "And was why I vanished the last time you saw me, I think."

"Are you a spirit?" Wooyoung questions right then, features scrunched in thought. He sounds all sorts of disappointed. "A forest satyr that has decided to grace us with his presence?"

"He just said that he's dreaming," Yeosang counters.

"But that is impossible -- "

"I don't know if this is real or not," San interrupts before his thoughts get too out of control. He's always had strange dreams, but this is the very first time that he falls short on whether it's real or not. And while Gia hadn't seemed bothered by what he'd told her, San wants to know once and for all what is happening to him.

"I don't know if you guys are real or not," San continues. His gaze is on the rich soil so he isn't able to read the expression on Wooyoung and Yeosang's face. "If I'm just making this up."

"But...we are real, though," Wooyoung says. When San looks at him, he adds, "I'm Jung Wooyoung, prince of the southern kingdom of Sol. And this is my trusted aide and closest friend, Kang Yeosang. We are both real."

Wooyoung looks so genuinely bothered by the fact that San questions their existence that San reaches out to him right then, his empathetic, eager to please side taking over.

Wooyoung stiffens when San holds his palm, eyes falling on where their skins touch.

Yeosang immediately steps forward. "You may not touch the prince -- "

"No," Wooyoung shakes his head, to Yeosang's bewilderment. "It's fine."

Anxious, San prepares to retreat his hand. "I'm sorry, I..."

"You can hold my hand, San," Wooyoung tells him, a nervous smile taking over his features. It's still lovely despite this. "And count yourself fortunate, because in this kingdom no one can touch the crown prince without losing a limb in the process."

San's eyes almost pop out of their sockets. "W-What?"

"He is only joking," Yeosang clarifies. It's more obvious by the way Wooyoung smirks right then, blue eyes twinkling in amusement as he regards San. And interest.

"Well, that wasn't a very nice joke, Wooyoung," San says, lips getting a little loose now. He wonders if it's an effect of that Gonjl drink he'd swallowed.

Wooyoung's smirk dissipates into thin air. "Huh?"

Airy chuckles chime from the sides, and it's then San realizes that Yeosang is trying -- and failing -- to cover up his laughter.

"Yeosang." Wooyoung glares at the male, and the aforementioned elf clears his throat. His lips still twitch with mirth, however.

"I'm sorry," San apologizes. "I don't know what came over me."

"You are right," Wooyoung says. "It was not a very nice joke. I'm sorry for taking it too far."

The last thing San expected was getting a royal elf to apologize to him, of all things. "Um, it's -- it's okay. I'm not mad."

"Really?" Wooyoung beams.

"Mhm." San feels his cheeks reddening at how the prince is watching him now. Like he's a star that just fell from the sky.

"I'm afraid we must leave soon," Yeosang announces, his low voice cutting their conversation now. "It is nearing lunch. Her majesty wouldn't want you waiting."

Wooyoung looks troubled, and it's obvious he doesn't want to leave just yet. It has San's stomach doing flips.

"It's alright, Wooyoung," San says, even when he means something else entirely. "You can leave."

"I will get to see you again, right?" Wooyoung asks, still stuck in the same crouching position. "In this forest?"

San hopes so, but very little in his life has ever lasted. San even doubts that this conversation is actually happening. "I don't know."

Wooyoung's jaw tenses and his eyes narrow, deep in thought. Then, he pulls out one of the many rings on his fingers. It's gold, like the rest, but the small gems on it sparkle a vivid red. San is suddenly reminded of the ring Yunho frequently wears around Mingi's house.

Yeosang's breath hitches beside them. "Wooyoung, this ring is what connects you to your family -- "

"I'm always here, aren't I?" Wooyoung says with a shrug. He smiles at San's puzzled self, places the cool ring on top his palm.

"Hold on to this so you know that I am indeed real," Wooyoung continues. His hands are steady as they cup San's, fingers lingering longer than they should. "And come back, so you can return the ring to me."

This is crazy. San really doesn't know what to say. "But -- "

"I will wait for your return, hm?" Wooyoung promises, then gets on his feet. "I will keep you in my mind until then. ...Hopefully you'll do the same?"

"This is a bad idea, Woo. What if he is really a human?" Yeosang whispers to the prince, but Wooyoung doesn't seem to care that much about that possibility.

"Be well, San," Wooyoung wishes when San gets up.

San's thoughts are racing a mile a minute, the ring clutched in his hand. "I...I will. I wish you well too."

The grin that Wooyoung displays right then has San's face blooming with immense heat. "Thank you, San."

San's emotions are on overdrive as Wooyoung and Yeosang eventually disappear off into the forest, that honeyed taste of Wooyoung's drink lingering on his tongue. But the prince's last words are far sweeter. They feel so right.

San stares down at the ring on his hand, the crimson gemstones unbelievably bright under this light. San has read up on the southern kingdom before, on how their rings only burn red in the hands of the ones with royal elven blood.

So, why does it still shine when San holds it?

In an instant, San is no longer in the forest, the trees exchanged for dim walls and curtains that are drawn over moonlit windows. He gasps and sits upright, trying to regain his bearings.

Mingi stirs next to him, groaning a bit. "...San?"

San feels his breathing come to a halt when he unravels his hand and sees the ring Wooyoung gave him there.

"San?"

San accidentally drops the ring, its rosy light shining on Mingi's back.

Mingi wakes up at the commotion, only to pause at what he sees on the bed. "What...?"

"I think they're real," San confesses, staring at his friend with wide eyes. "The dreams are real."

Mingi rubs the sleep off his eyes and positions himelf before San. His features are clouded with worry as he studies the ring on the bed. "You got that from over there?"

"The very same forest. The elf I told you about, Wooyoung -- " San swallows. "He gave it to me."

"Shit. So he is real," Mingi swears. "We have to tell Yunho and Gia."

"No."

San watches as Mingi's brows rise. "No?"

"I need to see him again first. Ask more questions. Telling your aunt could make things worse," San tells him. "You know how her workplace gets when they discover something they can't explain. And I don't wanna be treated as a science experiment."

Dealing with supernatural creatures on the daily meant getting used to things that were already seen as unusual. But what happens when the perceived human is the unusual one? San doesn't want to find out.

Mingi exhales after a long moment. "Okay, I won't tell. But the second I feel that something is going wrong, I'm gonna let Gia know."

"They were kind," San says. "The elves, I mean. They didn't look like they wanted to hurt me." He chews his lip. "They were like... like Yunho."

At this, Mingi gets speechless. The ruby glint of the ring reflects off his stunned look in his eyes. San doesn't know where his friend and Yunho stand, but he's positive something has happened between them. He's sure of it.

"I will talk to Yunho about Wooyoung tomorrow, okay?" San adds.

Eventually, Mingi nods. "Okay." He stares at the ring like it'd bite him, which makes San want to laugh.

San holds the dazzling ring, then wraps it within his coat resting on the dresser as it's too bright.

And when he falls back into the bed, all he can think about for the rest of the night is a certain dark haired elf with the most beautiful blue eyes.