𝑭𝑳𝑶𝑾𝑬𝑹 𝑩𝑶𝒀 » ᵏᵗʰ

۪۫❁ཻུ۪۪ ；十二

» [ ❁ཻུ۪۪ ʄƖơῳɛཞ ცơყ ; episode twelve] «
-ˋˏ ༻ flower and bee ༺ ˎˊ-

y/n glanced at him, studying his innocent features. The flower boy
grinned cheerfully at her, waiting for her continuation. Han-sung's
deep mocha eyes sparkled against his youthful honey-tan skin.
He was so happy despite the raging storm within his household.
It would be a hateful thing, y/n deducted, to burden that
childish innocence with the trial of her life.
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» [ author-nim ] «

y/n exhaled softly, flipping a page in the poetry book. Her lips pursed instinctively as she carefully scrutinized the page.

Next to her, Han-sung laid in the grass, his eyes slowly closing as the sound a rushing river lulled him to sleep. He hummed quietly, his hand impulsively brushing through the blades of grass, bathing comfortably in the sunlight.

y/n stole a glance in his direction, chuckling softly. Han-sung turned, lifting himself by his elbows, a small frown soiling his perfect face. "What?"

She offered him a small, teasing smile, shaking her head. "Nothing."
The flower boy pouted cutely, now up and adjusting his uniformed hanbok. "Yah what was it," he whined, poking the poetry teacher with his finger, "I want to know, Noona."

A chuckle escaped y/n's lips. "It was nothing," she mumbled, tracing her fingers religiously across the books parchment surface. Han-sung puffed his cheeks out in a huff, sagging his shoulders in the process. He scratched the side of his head, breathing irritably.

"Aish Han, don't be upset with me," she tsked softly, closing her book and tilting her head at the boy.

He nodded gently, rubbing his knuckles. "I still wanna know, Noona," he said, cheekily turning to y/n. Han-sung smirked, attempting to poke her cheek with his finger. "Are you blushing, y/n?" He teased, "Yah, what were you thinking to make you so red?

The woman swatted his hand away, scowling deeply. "I don't blush, flower boy," she mumbled, making a sour face at the boy.  Han-sung was chuckling childishly, placing his booted heels together, flashing her mischievous smirks.

y/n smacked her lips, carding her fingers through her shortened hair before softly laying them in the grass. "We'll have to get back soon, kid, " she said monotonously, rubbing her forehead religiously, "Sorry we didn't get much reading done today."

Han-sung glanced at the teacher, gently taking ahold of the book in her possession. He hummed softly, flipping through the pages. "I had fun nonetheless," he replied, offering y/n his signature boxy smile. "Even if we didn't accomplish much today, I enjoy your company, Noona."

The flower boy puffed his cheeks in a huff, closing the book in his lap. He turned to y/n, watching intently. "Do you have family in the Capital?"

She frowned gently, raising herself by her elbows. "You want to know about my family?"

Han-sung shrugged his shoulders. "I want to know about the people who raised you," he said casually, "Despite the short hair and serious face, you don't have such a rough exterior."

She smiled softly. "What makes you think I'm a tough nut?" y/n questioned, sitting up, inches away from the flower boy's face.
Han-sung's face brightened like a tomato as he averted his stare. "If I tell you about my family," he began, "Will you tell me yours?"

The teacher bit her lip, considering the offer before nodding. A smile brightened the flower boy's face.

"I'm supposed to keep our family name alive—at least that's what my grandfather says," Han-sung mumbled, running his fingers through the blades of grass, "Which I guess is fine; family is very important."

He exhaled sharply, resting his head in his hands. "I would've never been in this position but my Hyung . . . he isn't a true bone," Han-sung muttered, "Honestly, I wanted to join Hwarang hoping to avoid everything at home. I'm not interested in sparring or the best way to kill the enemy."

y/n frowned softly, lacing her hand through the plain material of her habok. "And what do you want to do, Han?"

The boy directing his gaze to her, smiling gently. "I want to study the sun, the stars, the moon," he said quietly, tapping his fingers against the ground, "Sometimes, I wish I was the half-bone, not Dan-se."

He nodded slightly before nudging her. "Your turn Noona," Han-sung said, smiling and back to his cheery self, "What's your family like?"

A pained smile etched on her lips. "Family is not something I ever warmed up to," y/n confessed, rubbing the nape of her neck.

Han-sung's smile faltered. "You can trust me, Noona," he said assuredly, "You know that right?"

y/n glanced at him, studying his innocent features. The flower boy grinned cheerfully at her, waiting for her continuation. Han-sung's deep mocha eyes sparkled against his youthful honey-tan skin. He was so happy despite the raging storm within his household. It would be a hateful thing, y/n deducted, to burden that childish innocence with the trial of her life.

However, to the teacher's ignorance, Han-sung was much more than an innocent face. To what will be quite the surprise to y/n in the future, that boy was much more than a rose — he had thorns the penetrated deeper than imagined.

"They're dead," y/n finally said flatly, glancing at the boy, nodding, "For a while actually. No siblings or other family members. It's just been me for as long as I can remember."

Han-sung blinked softly. "I'm sorry," he muttered with sincerity, "I honestly had no idea."

The woman patted his knee gently before raising herself to herfeet. "Aish kiddo, don't worry about it," she insisted, motioning him to get up, "We ought to start walking back. You can talk to me more about your astronomical interest."

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