The Spoiled Prince || WooSanSang

Separation

Yeosang hit the ground with a harsh thud. He landed on his feet and his ankles burned, but he was almost certain nothing was broken. The rope still hung beside him--there was nothing to do but leave it there. Whoever came looking for him next would find it and certainly know what Yeosang had done. But by then, hopefully, it would be too late.

Below Yeosang's balcony was a field of grass, completely open for a few hundred meters until it reached the surrounding forest. Yeosang had spent many hours over the years gazing at this place, observing the brilliantly green grass, but had never stepped foot here until now. Had never seen anybody else do so, either.

For that reason, he was confident as he walked towards the forest that nobody would see him. Indeed, a glance to his left and right showed nothing but empty grass. The problem was that Yeosang's sense of direction was questionable on a good day. Once he got to the forest, safely concealed by the trees, he hesitated.

His wing was on the north side of the castle, Yeosang knew, and the garden was more to the west. That meant that he should start walking left until he found the path in the forest leading from the garden...hopefully.

As he walked, he had a lot of time to think. He couldn't help feeling like a child throwing a tantrum when he didn't get his way. In a way, that was exactly what he was doing; running away because his life wasn't going the way he wanted.

Eventually, he was almost completely certain he'd found the right path. The air became colder as the evening went on, and Yeosang was glad he'd decided to wear a jacket.

He had come here with San a grand total of two times, and the first time barely counted because he wasn't paying attention in the least to the path they were taking.

Yet, his memory served him well because he soon found himself staring at those same flowers. They were even prettier than he remembered, or maybe that was only because he knew this would be the last time he saw them.

He sat down on the log of a nearby fallen tree. Not too long ago, he and San had sat side-by-side with their backs against it and shared their first kiss.

There was no way of telling the time but by then, either Wooyoung had succeeded in getting San out of the castle or he hadn't.

Yeosang waited there for a long while, long enough that evening had nearly turned into night. He had almost resigned himself to the fact that nobody was coming until he finally heard footsteps, and hoped it wasn't his wishful thinking that there were not one but two sets approaching.

He stood up, watching the trees intently, and then there they were. The only two people he had left in the world, right in front of him.

Wooyoung looked to be relatively unscathed and San...Yeosang was already in his arms before he could assess San's condition.

"I was so worried about you," Yeosang cried.

"Careful," Wooyoung said from behind him, gently pulling Yeosang away. "His arm..."

Even with the limited amount of light left in the sky, Yeosang could see what Wooyoung was talking about. "San," he gasped.

"I'm fine," San insisted. Yeosang didn't know how he could act like everything was normal with the large gash on his arm, still dripping blood all over the grass at a concerning rate.

Yeosang looked to Wooyoung. "W-what should we do?"

Wooyoung, by far the most prepared out of the three of them, pulled out a roll of bandage from one of the many pockets on the inside of his guard's jacket. San eyed the material. "We don't have time for that."

Yeosang folded his arms. "We are not leaving until you let Wooyoungie fix it."

San sighed and when Wooyoung told him to sit down and remove his jacket, he reluctantly obeyed.