bølgenes sang || seongsang

「chapter 5」: tårer og kyss

The moment Her Majesty the Queen of Elves lifted her hand to signal the servants that she would now take a leave, Hongjoong's eyes flicked over to the soon to be wed couple. Though he merely bestowed a contemptuous glare upon the siren, suppressing a scowl threatening to distort his handsome features. 'Prince of bloody bastards', he thought, knowing all too well what unsightly monster hid beneath the pretty face.

Impatiently, he waited for Her Majesty to entirely abandon her seat at the head of the table so he himself could get up, too. The elf could not bear witnessing the way his love quite literally glowed being at such close distance to that sea-scum. He could not bear witnessing the way the faded golden light emitting from the body of his world shone onto someone who would never appreciate this little specialty of the heir as he did, yet it was not him that would share all the little moments with them. This was unacceptable.

His hand snapped up and a silent servant hurried to aid him with leaving his seat; needless to say, he did not need this help, nevertheless the older part of the elven folk insisted on the etiquette that had been in use for millennia. His chair moved soundlessly over the pure white marble gleaming in the light turned green as it fell through the windows. The calm clacking of his heels on the floor drowned in the flood of noise produced by various noblepeople following him in getting up. His insides churned, dried out and burned as the heir's glow took a richer gold; this took place because the prince had kissed them, on the very lips that were supposed to be reserved to him. Unacceptable.

"Seonghwa," he demanded, "may I speak to you?" A disgusted look to the siren observing him with curious eyes followed. He noticed the auburn haired siren's hand resting comfortably on the prince's thigh, dangerously close to his hip. "In private," he added, his voice laced with venom. This was not a question. The elf threw another glance at the treacherous hand, finding that the prince had placed his hand over the other's and intertwined their fingers. 'Such a fucking jerk,' he thought to himself as he shot both of them a deadly glare, 'he has everything I have ever wanted and plays with it as though it means nothing.'

Concern wrote itself over the heir's pulchritudinous face and Hongjoong thought that he might cry. "Is everything alright?" they asked, their glow fading to nothing. They reached out to hold his hand in their's, softly circling their thumb over the back of his hand when they had connected the two of them through this touch.

How could anyone be so careless with a being so utterly precious and gentle and loving?

Whether he like it or not, his heartbeat picked up speed as he held eye contact with Seonghwa's loving eyes, feeling the delicate skin of their hand and fingers on his own, forgetting for just a second that this breathtaking person could never be his. It simply was not fair that he, who would treat them the way they deserve, had to watch from afar how they loved this arsehole that clearly could not care less.

"No," he replied fairly delayed. He detested that he had to hold the conversation about to take place with them, for two separate reasons; this would without a doubt hurt Seonghwa, yet he despised it even more because it meant that it was not him they had chose to be their fiancé. Unacceptable.

Worry spilled over the crowned heir's face and they shot up, their chair nearly toppling over with the speed of their movement. Would he finally tell them why he had wept that day they found him in the winter garden? They thought it to be awfully clear that he had been battling with something for the past eleven days, would they finally get to know what it was? They had to help him somehow.