weird shakespearean bullshit - l.mh + h.js

prologue

Buildings collapsed all around them, dust catching prisoners as their eyes watched the deadly bloodshed.

The bittersweet building Han Jisung knew as his home lay shattered in pieces.

Tears beckoned to fall, yet he wouldn't let them. Not even when the one he trusted most lay beside the broken glass garden, every piece of him looking just as broken as the glass pierced through his skin.

All Han could do was break, break as he looked at the prettiest boy he had ever seen- turn to just a fraction of what he used to be.

His blueing lip, his fading complexion- he watched, he watched it all. Crumble away, his world-

..but how did he even get here?

He couldn't recall.

The only thing that replayed in his mind- was how something so beautiful could be the cruelest thing of all.

Pitch black.

A cold, December night.

Jisung looked out his window, admiring his misty breath in awe.

He hated the cold, yet even the bratty prince of Vermont couldn't deny how euphoric the winter scene made him feel.

It was snowflake weather, yet they had only just started, as if they had been waiting for him, though he knew it didn't make sense.

He smiled, gently cupping his hands together, an individual snowflake landing on each of his hands as his brow furrowed. What the hell?

They looked the exact same.

Every year, Jisung would wait patiently for dusk, staring out his window, a twinkle in his eye, tiny Jisung sticking his hand out the window, catching as many of the little white beauties as he could, marveling at the families outside playing around in the snow.

Suddenly, his five-story castle seeming much lonelier in those three seconds, Han quickly shaking it off as he went back to a beaming sunshine, the melted ice in his grasp breaking through his warmth, sending a shiver through his arm before he shut the window in haste, sighing dreamily.

The housekeeper opened the door gently, walking in as the rich aroma of french toast filled the room, the prince immediately cheering up as he eyed the little piece of cake she had brought in a separate platter.

"I love you, Miss. Kim!" Little Han had yelled, running to hug the warm woman who served him.

Adult Han sighed, Those were good times.

Miss. Kim was long gone now, and all that remained of her was her sulky son going through puberty.

Sir. Kim was good at his job, but god was he a pain in the foot.

He always did his work in earnest, but only after complaining for a quarter-hour.

He was super popular in the palace headquarters, though.

For his looks, and his 'sweet' personality.

Like as one certain knight in their cavalry would say- 'Ugh.'

"UGH!"

A completely new voice flooded through the room, interrupting the narration.

"It is so obvious that Seungmin wrote this, oh my god-"

Jisung exasperated on the stage, burying his head into his arms before both he and Hyunjin glared at the narrator, a.k.a, Seungmin.