"Some eyes touch you more than hands ever could."

Your big brown eyes stare straight back at mine
I have underlined the words i wanna say to you
Your rosy cheeks and the way you smile
Is enough just to get me through

Flowers in your hair
Lipstick stains on my neck
The way you make me care
Without you i'm a train wreck
Your lips on mine, im the lucky one
- Lucky One by Mich.

HER EYELASHES FLUTTERED, orbs gleaming gold. The prince beside her slept peacefully, breathing slow. She'd been watching him for a while, admiring the slope of his nose, the splatter of freckles, the tiny mole under his right eyebrow.

Her palm was resting on him, fingertips buzzing with his heartbeat. She drew lazy circles on his smooth chest. They were so close that his hair brushed her forehead, tickling the brunette. She smiled, watching the corner of his lips tug upward, a tiny dimple forming slowly.

All this time, she thought it was the smell of Ithaca that she missed. Now, she realised that it was him. His scent. That strong smell of rain and paint and wood. It was intoxicating.

With his mercury hair styled up, he seemed formidable, unapproachable. Now, in the messy hairstyle she'd involuntarily given him the night before, he looked like a boy. Like someone innocent and lonely, with a story to tell.

"Morning, Aphrodite," he murmured, eyes still closed, "Like what you see?"

"Good morning," she whispered back, smiling, "Cocky much?"

He opened his eyes, lips forming the same grin as whenever he cracked a stupid joke, "Wouldn't you like to know that."

"Oh, shut up. I liked you better when you were asleep, Adonis," she joked, lightly slapping his bicep.

She trailed her fingers up his neck to his jaw, admiring the lines and curves. Legs tangled under sheets, she climbed on top of him, palms flat on his chest and her chin resting atop. His hands were on her back, running up and down, leaving little explosions in their wake.

Jimin wasn't used to this, the way she looked at him. Eyes so full of admiration, of love. He never let anyone get this close to him. He couldn't allow it. No one deserved to die for loving him the way Taehyung and his mother had. He couldn't take another life.

Murderer.

You did it. You hurt them. It's your fault.

You're the reason he's hanging from the ceiling fan.

You're the reason she didn't make it through childbirth.

"What are you thinking?" She smoothened the frowns forming on his forehead, running her hand through his hair.

He forced a smile—an easy task, looking at the angel atop him, "About last night. I was thinking maybe we could go for round two."

She laughed, tinkling giggle ringing in his ears. Gently lifting his jaw, she brought his lips to hers, kissing him softly. Mouths morphing together to fit into moulds their bodies were designed for, they pulled each other impossibly closer.

This was gentler than last night, lazier. They'd been grabbing at each other, kisses a blur of teeth and tongues, making up for a month of absentia.

Now, they had each other. Atleast for a while. He could memorise the shape of her body, the dips and curves. Tracing his fingertips over the star-shaped birthmark at the bottom of her spine.

"Prince Jimin?" A knock sounded on the door, "It's 7am. Can I come in?"

The couple separated, eyes wide. It was Jeongguk.

"Get inside the—" Jimin began as Ambrosia raised the sheets up to her chest, covering herself up, "Just a second, Jeongguk!"

"Oh," the voice came, as though Jeongguk was realising something, "...okay, Prince Jimin. I'll get the NDA and some cash up here, tell me whenever you're ready."

Fuck.

"Why would you need a Non-disclosure agreement? And cash—Wait a second. Oh my God, Jimin is this—"

"Yeah, that's what he thinks it is," Jimin admitted, closing his eyes.

Ambrosia got off the bed, nothing but sheets covering her body. A skeptical frown on her face, "And why does he think that?"

"Because it's...happened before," he bit his lip, expecting a slap.

"Oh my God, Park Jimin, you've solicited sex workers!" She yelled, loud enough for his father two buildings away to hear. Or the recent Sykarian astronauts in space to begin gossiping about.

"What happened to Adonis?"

"He can suck my dick," she huffed loudly, balancing the white linen on her chest and the bundle of her clothes she'd picked up. Barged into the washroom, slamming the door. Jimin knew he wasn't going to hear the end of it.

He slipped on his boxers, back resting against the headboard. Arranging the sheets a bit, he covered himself below the waist.

"Jeongguk, come in," he ordered, trying to sound as authoritative as he could.

"Yes, Prince Jimin," the younger man entered, stifling a grin.

"What's on my schedule for this week?"

"PR at the cancer centre on Friday. You will have to fly to Crecida."

"Make sure my jet's ready."

"Sure, Prince Jimin."

"That's in five days, anything today?"

"The usual. Social work, NGO donations," the bodyguard checked off points from his board.

"I'll be down in an hour. Get me the progress report from Miss Kang's secretary."

"Yes, Prince Jimin," checking the clipboard he always carried around, "Should I inform her about the Crecida event too? It will be my last event so she will be planning the ones after it."

"Uh, sure," the prince waved his hand nonchalantly, as though she wasn't in his bed a few moments ago, "She should be in her room or in the chapel."

A weak attempt at hiding the sins of last night, for Jeongguk bowed down and raced out immediately, laughing his little obnoxious laugh. Of course he heard them argue before.

Can't blame him for trying, though. Jeongguk definitely didn't need more to gossip with Jin about, though the royal's lipstick-peppered neck showed otherwise.

"Oh my God I think I'm still drunk," Ambrosia moaned, slowly opening the bathroom door. Her eyes were shut, mouth agape.

"Aphrodite—"

"Don't 'Aphrodite' me," she held up a finger, dressed in yesterday's clothes, "How much time until he's back?"

"You're cute when you're flustered," Jimin laughed, sucking in his lower lip as he tried to stop himself, "A while. We have enough time for round two," he offered, as though he were a salesman selling overpriced skincare at the mall.

She stared at him, hair shaggy and lips swollen. Wine coloured love bites covered his neck and chest, the only proof of last night. It was so tempting, to give in to his tantalising embrace. To forget Ambrosia ever existed. To be Aphrodite again. Just the two of them, Aphrodite and Adonis.

But she couldn't. She had a job and she was going to do it. Swiping up her belongings from the couch, she made a dash for the door, calling out, "Workplace, Prince Jimin!"

Slamming the door shut, she took a deep breath. She was embarrassed. Beyond humiliated. But weirdly, turned on.

"Okay, Ambrosia," she said aloud, "What's the plan for today, huh? You always have a plan. Uh, where's my tab, if I find that I'll—"

"Oh, you're up?" Yoongi popped up from the couch, previously shrouded from her view by the backrest.

She jumped, "You gave me a heart attack, Yoongi."

"Your waking up at 7 gave me one too. I'm guessing yesterday's early dinner went well," he winked, raising his eyebrows at her.

"Funny, Yoongi. Real funny." She scoffed, finding her tab on the bed. A few clicks here and there, and she was informed on her plan for the day.

She looked up a few minutes later, seeing her secretary still staring at her through narrow eyes. He had a smirk on his face, indicating that he was about to give her absolute shit.

"What is it?" She pressed her forehead, waiting to get his mockery over with

"You should look in a mirror," he squeezed his lips shut, laughing silently.

Giving him a skeptical look, she opened her selfie cam and almost gasped. Her lipstick was smudged, the mauve-pink colour all over her mouth. Her hair looked like a rat's nest. The only thing that stayed intact was her eyeliner, courtesy of a technique she'd acquired from Jin.

"Makeup remover?" Yoongi grinned.

"Makeup remover."

"CRECIDA is a thirty-minute flight. We need to leave by eleven thirty," Jeongguk spoke, words serious but tone light. He was still laughing after Monday morning's events. Going off of his naughty eyes, he'd already gossiped to Jin about it all.

"I'll be waiting at the garage, Jeongguk. Thank you," she replied, ignoring his stifled giggles, having heard it daily for the past five days. Her parents had taught her a lesson that had brought her up to where she was: Talking doesn't imply class. Knowing when to keep your trap shut does.

This seemed like a shut-your-trap situation.

The bodyguard left, leaving Ambrosia to pack her bags for a day's stay at Crecida. She carried a pair of her favourite PJ's, some underwear, a beige corset and blazer set. She was really beginning to enjoy dressing up lately. Maybe it was Jin's fashion tips or Jimin's smile whenever he saw her, but she felt like doing something different every morning. The openness of a corset paired with a coat greatly appealed to her. It was perfect. Business, yet chic.

She pulled her suitcase behind her, down the wooden staircase and into Namjoon's hands. He stuffed the white trunk into one of the cars and beckoned her towards the black SUV. She got in, pleasantly surprised to see her secretary in the front seat. Hoseok and Namjoon sat on either side of her.

"Where's Jimin?" She nudged Hoseok.

"His Highness will see you in his jet, Miss Kang—I mean, Ambrosia."

"Oh, okay. And it's nice to see both of you calling me by my name. It's a lot better than the whole 'Miss Kang', 'Miss Kang'," she narrowed her eyes, grinning at them.

The engine roared to life and almost immediately, the windows on either side of her rolled down too. She smiled, looking into her tablet for the document she'd drawn up earlier that day.

"I booked you a room at a hotel near the cancer centre. Namjoon and I will be a call away at all times," Hoseok informed, cutting the serene silence.

"Got it, thank you," she smiled, cocking her head, "I gotta say, between the two of you, I like Hoseok more. He's got the whole psychic thing going on. Namjoon, you need to bring more to the table."

"Very funny, Ambrosia," Namjoon narrowed his eyes at her.

She grinned, nudging the older man. The ride continued, the two guards joking around with the driver. As they reached the airport, they drove straight into the airstrip, right up to the shiny white jet. A purple dot with a golden leaf on the rudder marked it as property of the Sykarian government.

The Prince stood out front, shaking the pilot's hand. She noticed it was odd, for royals rarely communed with their staff, but Jimin was the dashing outlier. He noticed her, eyes lighting up as he directed the pilot towards her, as though introducing the two.

She lit up as well, for seeing the prince surely roused a feeling of affection in her.

In silence, they landed at the Crecida International Airport's private airstrip, where two more SUVs picked them up and took they party to a hospital.

She looked over at Jimin, for hospitals often dampened his spirit. And as always, it did. His smile became strained, as though he'd painted it on, as they drove into the back entrance of the large white building.

Almost immediately, they parted ways, the soldiers following their prince to the stage and Jeongguk beginning Ambrosia's tour of the PR event.

A couple hours later, he handed her a booklet, listing out names. She flipped through, recognising some of them.

"That's a checklist of the people we usually hire. They're government-run bodies, so it's best if you stick to them," Jeongguk explained. For the rest of the tour, the Jeongguk introduced her to a myriad of people, each playing different parts in putting together a PR event.

They entered a room where the light was dim and the air was musty. The green room. A group of children, some bald as a result of chemotherapy, some with short, spiky hair, sprawled about the single couch and the mats around. Tired smiles and gaunt cheeks. One thing was in common: their eyes had this gleam,this childlike shine to them.

Dressed in shiny clothing, it was apparent that they were going to perform a dance routine for their prince. She smiled and waved at them.

"I thought you might want to know this," Jeongguk leaned in, "but Prince Jimin hasn't been sleeping since you came here," he said, a casual air about his voice. He picked up a bouquet of flowers off the floor, handing it to a young girl, "Especially since Monday."

"Why?" She pondered.

"It's been raining every night," shrugged the black-suited bodyguard.

"So what?"

"He said you like rainstorms," he shrugged, smiling and waving at the doctors and nurses, "I have to wake him up at 4 everyday, but whenever I go to do it, he's already up and sitting on the floor leaning on the glass partition of his balcony. He'll stare at the raindrops all night."

Her lips squeezed shut, breath stopping. He wasn't supposed to be doing that. Doing the things she loved. They meant nothing to each other. Just physical attraction and a mutual affinity for alcohol.

What they had in Greece was a fling, extended due to unforeseen circumstances. Therefore, she was still being...flung.

No one was supposed to get feelings involved. Even when drunk. Feelings were a complete no-no. A physical relationship? That's okay. 

"Miss Kang, keep an eye out for Hoseok tonight. The prank I have in mind will put his so-called clairvoyance to the test," the prince's secretary joked, alleviating her distressed thoughts. He continued rambling on, about his numerous pranks, the throne, the nation, Prince Jimin, everything. All in an effort to keep Ambrosia engaged in conversation.

For all his childish jokes, Jeongguk was empathetic. He found it hard to keep his mouth shut most times, but hated getting the other person uncomfortable.

Continuing the rest of the initiation strictly business, they headed back to the main stage. The prince stood on a stage, decorated in every shade of lavender—the universal colour symbolising cancer.

A young child was called upon to pin a purple ribbon to his shirt. He smiled after the girl kissed him on the cheek. She thoroughly enjoyed all the attention—but who wouldn't? The prince was handsome, kindhearted and compassionate—and blushed as she was handed an artificial rose.

He met her eyes and beamed, the stage lights making him look like a fairy glowing from within. It was him, his radiance. His kindness and warm heart gave him this sheen, this light that emitted from him and touched every citizen of Sykaria.

The prince handed each one of the fifty-odd kids in the audience a fake rose, going about the barracks like an army general.

She could clearly see that he was loved. Every member of the audience, the paparazzi and reporters had their eyes fixated on him. She knew he had a guilty conscience, that there was something that made him believe that he wasn't worthy. If only he could see himself through her eyes, he'd see a dashing man with elegance oozing through his every pore. He'd see a hardworker, a man deserving of all the happiness in the world.

"Sometimes I wish it was him, Miss Kang, who gets the throne," Jeongguk whispered, to himself, more than Ambrosia, "It's him they love. You remember the poll they held last year? On Prince Kangmin's birthday? Prince Jimin won that. Not his brother. We rigged it at the last moment, before the future king blew his fuse."

"What a big baby," Ambrosia's huffed, "I wish it was his coronation I was planning, too. I don't know much about these royals, but all I can say is that Kangmin sucks. He doesn't deserve shit."

"I shouldn't let that comment pass, Ambrosia," Namjoon cut in, standing behind the two of them with Hoseok, "But I'll let it slide just this once. It's unfortunate, this whole scenario."

"Exactly," Yoongi mumbled, chiming in with the rest of them.

As the last young child recieved a flower from their prince, the group began heading back to the lineup of SUVs awaiting them.

"KNOCK, KNOCK, Jimin. Can I come in?" Ambrosia called out, knocking on the door of the prince's hotel room. She had no clue what she was doing there, but her conscience compelled her to check on him. Hospitals certainly put him on edge.

"Come in," came the half-hearted reply.

Inside, she saw him leaning against the balcony railing, staring at the horizon. She walked up to him and tried to see what he was gazing so bitterly at.

He had gone silent, a complete contrast to his previous jovial attitude. It seemed as though the second the cameras went off, so did a tiny switch in his head. It was like Jekyll and Hyde, except Hyde was a melancholic prince.

She had no clue what was wrong with him. No clue. She shouldn't even care. After all, what was he to her. A hookup. A summer fling. That's all.

His knuckles were tight on the balcony railing. She feared that if he let go, the metal would have little finger shaped dents. The perfectly pressed white shirt was now untucked and dishevelled. He looked tense, to say the very least.

He turned around, deciding to go back into his room.

"Alright, that's it. What's going on?" She held an arm out, barring him from going any further.

He could have pushed her back. He should have. But he didn't. He knew she saw through him, right at that tear threatening to spill, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You do, Jimin. Every time we're at any hospital you end up like this. What happened?"

"I don't want to—" 

"Doesn't mean you should not," she rested a hand on his, squeezing lightly, "Hey, I know what this is, okay? I know what depression looks like. This—This sudden weariness, the burning out at the end of every day. It's alright. But you gotta talk about it."

"I'm not depressed," he staunchly refused, as though the very idea of a prince suffering from a mental illness was unacceptable.

"Talk to anyone, Jimin. Jin, Jeongguk your father, anyone. I'm worried about you," she practically begged.

"My father? Talk to my father?" Jimin scoffed, tongue pushing his cheek. He closed his eyes, looking down as though she'd just cracked the stupidest joke in the world, "He doesn't give a fuck about me."

"King Changmin? I always thought he was on your side."

"There's no sides in this war, Ambrosia. I killed his wife. The crown prince hates me. I'm lucky I'm still here."

The Queen?

Jimin killed her? He couldn't have.

"You didn't kill anyone. The Queen—You couldn't have—"

"She died giving birth to me."

She took a deep breath, staring at the man, reduced to a boy. Lips pressed tightly together to prevent any more emotion from escaping his mouth. Eyes shut to keep the tears in. No one deserved to be treated like a monster. His cheeks were devoid of colour, seeming so cold, so lifeless. Her heart ached for him. He made her want to smash every one of her principles, just to ensure his happiness. She wasn't supposed to feel this way.

Reaching out, she cupped his cheek in her palm, "Hey, I'm here, alright? You're not a monster. I don't care what anyone says."

He angled away from her, "But—"

"Maternal death happens. It's shitty, but it happens. It's not your fault," she raised the other hand up too, forcing him to look at her.

He remained silent, having exhausted his daily limit of words. He hadn't spoken about his mother in years. Once, when he was but a child, he had asked the king about her. The verbal abuse he'd suffered that day, at the hands of his brother and father, was enough to shut him up for a lifetime. He didn't dare to open his mouth ever again.

Her sparkling hazel eyes glassed over, silently encouraging him to speak. Her hands on his face brought him warmth, comfort. Softly stroking his cheeks with her thumbs.

He was beginning to change, slowly feeling the need to open up. But he couldn't.

She would hate him if she knew. The country would hate him.

"I—I can't, Ambrosia. I'm sorry," he whispered, voice cracking as a tear fell into her palm. Wrapping her arms around the man, she embraced him in a gentle hug. His arms wound around her, pulling her closer. Breathing in the smell of her perfume, he hugged her tightly, unable to let go.

There shouldn't be anything between them. Not air, nothing.

She held on to him to keep the pieces together. To keep him together.

She anchored him to reality, her arms tight around him mending his broken self.

He murmured against her chest, tears falling uncontrollably. He was shaking now, breaths short and gasping. She felt his bones rattle with every breath, hollow and empty.

Lonely and unloved, for years. This was the first time someone had held him in this way. The feeling was indescribable. He wanted to be this way forever. Giving in to this woman, allowing her to take his pain away.

"You don't have to apologize, Jimin. I'm here, okay?" She whispered, gently stroking his nape, hoping that the evening breeze would blow away his troubles.

Author's note.

And that's chapter 8!
I'm sorry it's a little shorter than before, but that's all I had planned for this one. Chapter 9 should have a little more drama.

Since I've gained a number of new readers, I wanted to clarify the updating schedule. Due to my board exams, it has been unbelievably erratic for the past few months, but since those exams have been cancelled, (bangpdrocks let's party) I will establish my intended schedule.

There will be updates every Saturday.

Also.....theories+opinions!

How was the kissy scene in the beginning? I kinda suck at those so I'd appreciate any help I can get.

Do y'all like Hoseok, Namjoon and Jeongguk? Should I include them a bit more?

And I almost forgot, TAEHYUNG. What's wrong with him?

How's the cover, by the way?

That's all, so have an awesome day, keep smiling and stay safe!