Transcendence.

Chapter 1. Beautiful Stranger.

A/N...

Just wanna say that this story is mine, it's a complete work of fiction and has no basis in reality. I don't own BTS or any other idol I may be adding to the story line.
I dunno if I'll use pictures, but if I do then the credits go to the actual owners of these.

It should contain ( I think/hope) a lot of blushing, softness, soft kisses, but NO smut cuz the story doesn't call for it... Yeah, yeah, BOOOOOO! scandalous, isn't it?

I'm trying something different, so shush!!

Anyway, I hope you like it and show it some 💜 by voting and commenting. Our babies need support even if it's in a trashy fan fic like this!!

Keep it Purple, people 💜🌈

                                  🐰💜🐻

"My prince..." He breathed softly as he stole into the room, his beautiful large doe eyes sparkling with warmth as he made his way over to the delicate, slim figure lying in the bed, swathed in soft white silken sheets.

"Angel," The young prince smiled up at the dark eyed boy as he settled himself against the colourful silk cushions by the bedside.

"I missed you so," the young prince spoke softly, raising his hand to gently stroke the boy's cheek with tenderness, long slender fingers trembling softly against the warm peachy skin.

"I'm sorry my love," the dark eyed boy said, his glistening eyes roamed the other's pallor, the dark smudges under his gorgeous chocolate coloured eyes, whose brightness no illness could dim,

"my father forbade me to come. But I had to see you," he smiled, the action eliciting a heart warming box smile from the prince.

"I have your gift," he smiled a little more and lifted the white silk covered gift onto the bed, "it's for your eighteenth year. I made it myself." He smiled proudly.

The prince chuckled sweetly, clapped his slim hands softly, and with the eagerness of a child, he unwrapped the gift. His eyes widened when he saw how intricate and detailed the gift was, and again, with trembling hands, lifted it up to inspect it further.

It was fashioned one cylinder inside another. The inner had several hand painted birds, two perched still, and four in varied stages of flight. The outer cylinder was expertly cut and fashioned as golden bars of a bird cage, leading to the dome shaped roof that was painted as blue as a summer sky, it's gentle clouds floating by with tiny birds flying freely through.

"Do you like it?" The other asked, watching anxiously as the prince turned it gently around in his delicate hands, his fragile fingers tracing every line of paint work with the gentlest of touches.

"I love it," he whispered in awe, lifting his eyes momentarily from his gift, to smile at his doe eyed love.

"Here," the boy said, his expression positively beamed at the praise, reaching over to place his hand on top of the princes, "it's a musical box."
And with the fingers of his free hand, he sought and gently turned the key underneath. The action turning the inside cylinder round and round, from the caged birds to gently soaring ones, their delicate wings painstakingly depicted from stationary to transition, meticulously slow through to perfect full flight.

Soon the room was filled with soft, slow music, it's sound filling the young prince's heart with bitter-sweetness as he recognised the melody, his overly large, dark glistening eyes immediately fixing on the other's face.