⚜REST WITHIN ME⚜ [Namjin] [Taekook]

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The carriage jolts intermittently when its wheels run over a dip or a bump of the road, causing the persons accommodating the commodious room to jostle against the side-doors or at one another. The arrow of night has been shot through the skies hours ago, and the Northern Star which dominates the navigation of the vehicle is twinkling in the lower skies, one of the visible silver pins on the midnight's clothes. Unlike the coldness of an ordinary autumn night, tonight holds dead, frigid iciness, alarming the living about the upcoming season of white and shivers. The prince of Rome lays unconsciously against the chest of the King of Scotland, draped in woolen draperies and warm clothes against the reduced temperature. Such blankets cocoon him in coziness, providing his body enough comfort. Namjoon's lips hover just above his hairline, brushing across them frequently when the jerking carriage makes them shove with it. And, subsequently, the king's arms wound tighten around the curled body, tenderly holding him from slipping from his lap.

Namjoon stares out of the windows, his thoughts monotone and pensive and not even complicated or evaluating. He only ponders on the live moment wherein a few minutes later, he will have to deposit his prince on an unfamiliar bed and watch him drift away into the seas without him.

Twenty more miles to the harbor, and less than an hour to be with his lover. He desperately glances towards the skies, beseeching for an aid or guidance from no one particular. Not from God. Not from the universe. He doesn't trust anyone now.

Just, please, let me end this soon. He pleads from his own self, only to be met with a mirror of his own aimless, forlorn and bemused soul. Namjoon lets his eyes press together as emotions outburst within himself, and the detectable stirring of tear-glands makes him feel more frustrated on his weakness. Those times, he can only hope the period of this separation wouldn't be longer than bearable.

Opposite to him, the Queen of Scotland appraises her husband with sympathy and sentiments. She does feel for Namjoon's sorrow, but is in the state of being unable to console him. She has not endeavored to offer any comforting speech for him, and Namjoon hasn't even asked any from her. Jisoo understands the responsibilities inflicted upon him, and with his own emotions involved, it is not an easy task to steer ones' thoughts and feelings into resolving the troubles. Glancing at her brother who hasn't regained consciousness yet, she is concerned and distressed about him more. Who was Seokjin before and who has he become? Jisoo doesn't want to sound patronizing, but if Seokjin had not been entangled in a relationship with the King, his life would not have been threatened like this, would it? If Seokjin had never come to this castle, or never met with Namjoon, he would have led his self-made life at Rome, although Jisoo must admit that being involved in this relationship, Seokjin has changed to a much better image than his past. The narcissist and haughty attitude has perished, yes, and Jisoo is grateful for that personality shift.

But looking at both of the males, she feels a profound sadness, although she doesn't put the reason into words. Namjoon's chestnut brown gaze has sorrow, guilt and agony leeched to it and every time they look down into the blank face of her brother, the muscles in between his eyebrows twitch and grief surges from the eyes like a rainstorm. And, those times, Jisoo would avert her gaze, the insides in her throat squeezing together.