THEM. － l.sm + k.sy

; o11

The light of days melted out into the blackness of nights, a constant loop and incessant reminder of time's passing, the only thing to steady both Soonyoung and Seokmin as they ran into the farthest area of settlements around the outskirts of the kingdom and hid, like notorious criminals. What sad irony, their crime was love and their victim was none but each other, yet there they were, temporarily settled in an unused shed and sleeping upon empty sacks of grain.

Seokmin truly tried to be brave and of support to his partner, for he knew his desolation was equally felt by the other, yet with every sunset he would shatter like porcelain and weep into Soonyoung's gentle arms, scarcely hearing the words of comfort hushed into his ears by the male who held him together.

"I － I'm sorry for being so pathetic, my heart," Came one of Seokmin's many apologies as moonshine filtered in through holes in the hut's roof and bestowed a soothing glow to their figures, "I'm meant to be King, fearless and powerful, yet I cry into your loving chest like a babe nearly each night instead of being a source of strength and encouragement for you."

Soonyoung cradled the male closely, lifting his weight so as to set him on his lap and hold the tips of their noses in subtle contact. He soothingly rubbed along the royal's side, up and down his arms, planting affirming kisses to the younger's neck and cheeks.

"I am strong enough for the both of us, just as you are strong in your own way," He whispered breathily, shutting his eyes to his lover's dwindling hiccups, "Sunshine, you are far from pathetic and I would have you no other way than as you already are."

Two weeks trickled by at a pace too quick and yet too slow, and the food they'd brought along had been entirely devoured over the course of shared portions.

Seokmin awoke to his face burrowed into Soonyoung's shoulder, rays of light dancing down and fluttering across their skin as a new day began.

"Sunshine?"

A hum in response, a snuggle closer and the naive attempt at shutting his eyes and surrounding himself only in the warmth of his lover, as though they hadn't been in hiding, as though their love brought nothing but happiness. He could almost feel the softness of his bedsheets and Soonyoung's scent of oranges mixing with that of the flowers upon his bedside table.

"We should head back to your father."

The memory faded, leaving nothing but acid on the Prince's tongue and needles behind his eyes. His sight settled on his unused sword, fitted into its carved scabbard, and the same thought he'd been having whilst Soonyoung would sleep and his eyes would blink unseeingly at the ceiling, emerged in the light of day.

"We should."

Travelling to where they'd come from was torturous. They did what they could to lighten one another's mood: point at clouds and claim them to look like something funny, poke at each other's sides and playfully start up a game of chase before falling into pace and holding hands. They did their best, but a sense of dread and fear stubbornly welled in both of their stomachs, gripped them with more force all through their journey home, and Seokmin dazedly wondered if it was because a part of them knew what awaited them both.

Once they came to the palace's front, their shoes ground into the stone beneath their soles, and their every limb was deprived of oxygen as they stared.

And there, at the top part of the wall beside the main gate, was an iron spike on which's wicked end was a severed head, stained with dry blood and stomach churning shades of yellows and greens. Its once soft, wavy hair was then crisp and knotted, matted to the scalp, eyes of glass and soulless, gazing blindly at those bellow, with its jaw slack in a silent scream.

Seokmin could only let out a croak. Soonyoung shuddered.

Seungcheol had kept his promise.