…❝ league one.

@✶ › jeonghan。 Wonwoo can't get over how /odd/ it is to be here right now, speaking to Jeonghan like he's some kind of stranger that Wonwoo hadn't spent two years of his life committing to memory. He knows full well that Jeonghan's never wanted much—after all, he had given those same two years of his life to Wonwoo, of all people. Wonwoo, who had never amounted to much and preferred to stay a silent presence in the shadows of anyone and everyone that had looked his way. Yet, Jeonghan had looked his way, hadn't he? Jeonghan had made him feel /known/, and in return, Wonwoo had given him what he wanted—simplicity. (Or at least, his failed attempt at it.)

So to stand here right now and pretend like none of that had happened is jarring. But Wonwoo needs to do it, if he's going to survive the rest of his stay here.

Wonwoo avoids his gaze, because having Jeonghan smile at him like that is something he isn't used to. He'd rather not look at the prince at all than to have that fake smile directed his way. He's quiet for a moment, because yes, he could have said no. He could have turned away without a word and pretended that Jeonghan had said nothing, had asked for nothing.

But he didn't want to.

"I don't have any preferences with how you spend your time, your highness," he says, and he feels like he's listening to himself speak from a distance, the words not quite coming out right. "It's not really my right to question what you do now, is it? That includes now, too. If you want to spend your birthday with a commoner, then by all means. I have no say in the matter."

@✶ › j. wonwoo。 It feels a lot like the two of them are back where they had been two years ago—strangers who have just spoken to each other the first time. The difference is, however, they have shared memories now. Unlike before when they had been empty slates, they now have far too many memories shared in their most intimate moments within the four walls of their bedroom, the subtle chase through ballrooms in events where they aren't meant to be seen together. So he rests his back against the chair, and he heaves a soft sigh. "Can a prince not wish for simplicity?" he asks.

The things he has wanted have always been simple, as per the standards of the people around him. They tell him he can wish for something more, something grander, something fitting more of his status as the Crowned Prince of Korea. But it is a little difficult for him to want more, ask for more than what he can hold in his hands, when the things he wants are those that he can't reach even with outstretched hands—because one way or another, he will have to pull his hands back to him anyway.

Jeonghan hums. But what use are those people who'll fawn over him if none of them are as genuine as he'd like? Though he supposes that makes him a hypocrite more than anything else. He should keep this facade up, if he'd like to go through the night without making things worse (but then again, isn't asking Wonwoo to spend the rest of this day with him just going to make things worse, because they aren't supposed to be /talking/, to be with each other like this?). But he looks at Wonwoo, eyes unreadable, still that cordial smile on his face, never fading, never gone. "Would you prefer if I chose to spend my time instead of asking you?" he asks. "You could have said no to me, you know."

@✶ › jeonghan。 Again, Wonwoo's fingers itch to reach for a cigarette, to quell these unsteady sensations that rise up whenever he so much as hears Jeonghan speak in that soft voice of his. When he's under the night sky like this with the prince of Korea, he can recall the memories of a distant time, a distant night sky, a distant not-so promise of a long, long time ago. He had asked for something then, rather than the stars that Jeonghan had promised—clearly, it hadn't been fulfilled, and Wonwoo almost feels embarrassed at how much of himself he'd thrown into those memories. What had it all been for?

But he has to swallow down the bitterness—deep down, he still cares for this man, no matter how badly he was hurt. (And it isn't even really that deep down, or deep down at all.) He knows how Jeonghan spends his birthdays, quiet and solitary, and even though he's still so /angry/, he's not angry enough to subject him to yet another terrible birthday. So he holds in this bitterness, this shame, this regret—he tucks it into a crevice in the corner of his mind, and he'll pretend that this is Jeonghan again. The Jeonghan he'd met on the evening of that event two years ago, the one that had told him his song choice was a bold one to give to a stranger. Because that's all they are now—strangers.

"I suppose it is," he says, hands in his pockets. His pack of cigarettes is just within reach, and he finds himself holding it just to quell the nerves in his chest. Wonwoo can't focus on the view that Jeonghan speaks of, doesn't want to—it'll reignite even more memories that only bring hurt. "That's a pretty simple birthday wish for a prince, isn't it?" he asks, even though he knows Jeonghan had never really wanted much. He knows all this, knows what Jeonghan wants, but the man before him is a stranger, and Wonwoo has to act as such. "You could probably be off somewhere else with people that will fawn over you—instead you're just stuck here with me now."

@✷ › sooyoung。 Minghao shouldn't be surprised anymore at the answer that spills out of his lover's lips. Her brother, Jeonghan—he's lost count of the number of times he's heard them amidst, well, almost every moment he could recall. Although vague, it's clear enough of a hint for the prince to predict where this is going. The anger tingling inside his body is telling him—/begging/ him to take her back to the villa. "Sooyoung..." The name escapes him in the form of an exasperated sigh. He's exhausted—yes, perhaps that is a better word for the permanent weight in his chest. Exhaustion.

But a part of him crumbles when he sees Sooyoung openly suffering like this, and—/god/. Minghao doesn't even try to remove her palm from her face, afraid of the pain that would inevitably greet him if he meets her gaze. All he can do is tighten his grip on her other hand and pull her closer towards him, burying her face against his chest to shield her from the few curious glances pointed at them. "Shh, it's okay," he offers in a hushed voice, pressing his lips against her hair. "I'm sorry. You can tell me about it later, alright?" She's right—perhaps they should go someplace else; somewhere he knows is safe enough for the two of them. "Come on then." He gives her shoulder a gentle tap. "We'll talk once we get there."

@✶ › minghao。 Sooyoung cannot really say for certain what kind of feelings were stacking up inside her chest. It was somehow a mixture of anger and anguish with a hint of guilt, having to drag her boyfriend into this mess that she had brought upon herself. Recollection of the vivid memories that brought the princess relief and tranquility momentarily kept her regrets at bay. With how she was too concentrated on understanding her own cognitions, Sooyoung was not able to utter another word until they were out. Even then, she needed to press the base of her palm against her eyes, as if to push back the tears that dared to pour out before she could speak, “It’s my brother.” The princess wonders if she could just keep it at that as her temples started to throb. The moment she wanted to provide more than the vague answer she had said, she realized that they were still around the villas’ vicinity where most people could probably catch on with what she was about to say.

She could care less what they would think about her brother, for what she was about to say, what she cared most about was what they would say about him: Prince Minghao. Through the course of their relationship, Sooyoung had always been sensitive about how Minghao is wrongly perceived by the public, hence she attempts to catch the spotlight instead for his sake. She enjoyed it more than him, after all – enjoyed how she was able to stir even just the tiniest reaction from her, the king and queen after all their efforts of erasing her traces. So, before she spills the buildup settled in her core, Sooyoung ran the pad of her thumb on the span of the prince’s index finger as she spoke, “Can we go somewhere further? Maybe by the bayside again?” It was a careful suggestion she wishes her lover would consider.

@✶ › j. wonwoo。 What an awkward statement to say, especially between the two of them, but Jeonghan supposes that this too has to become part of their routine. They /are/ strangers, aren't they? Strangers who may have had far too many memories together to be considered such, but strangers nonetheless, with only those memories to hold onto. It is strange, he thinks, and sad that he still holds those memories in shining gold. He takes a seat in one of the chairs available, and not for the first time that night, he shivers lightly under the cool breeze of the night air. He lets out a soft exhale, leaning against the chair.

Jeonghan decides to humor his ex-lover's words, and he smiles—it's the only thing he seems to know how to do perfectly anyway. "Isn't it? It's quite the wonderful view." It reminds him a little of a place he had once shared with Wonwoo, now that he thinks about it. If he lies down on the floor and pretends to feel the grass underneath his skin, then perhaps he can find himself being brought back there, even if it's only through a memory.

"I wanted to watch the skies tonight," he says, and he hopes that the shadows are enough to cover the honesty of his visage—or the lack of it, everything that is hidden behind his eyes and the words that he cannot say. Still, that smile is on his face as it always is. "Such a beautiful view is better seen with other people, don't you think?"

@✷ › sooyoung。 The bewilderment on Minghao's visage immediately morphs into apparent discomfort as he throws a glance at Jeonghan. This, of course, was to no avail as he is once again reminded of how difficult it is to assess the situation from his seemingly permanent pleasant expression alone. It's the shift in Sooyoung's voice that finally gives him an inkling of what's going on, dread settling in his stomach on top of the irritation that has been building up since earlier. Still he dares himself to lean a little closer towards the princess as she takes his arm out of nowhere, his other hand reflexively making its way towards her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze for instant comfort. "Is everything alright?" he whispers, quiet enough for only the two of them to hear. But somehow this feels like a... dire emergency—so he doesn't wait for an answer before he turns towards Jeonghan, slipping back into his princely demeanor out of courtesy. "My sincere apologies for interfering with your plans, Prince Jeonghan, but I will be taking your sister outside for a moment," he says, "please give me a call should you need her back. Oh, and er—happy birthday." He offers a light bow before guiding Sooyoung out of the door, taking the path leading to the east wing to avoid other students who might be loitering around at night. He stops walking once they're far enough from the villa and lets go of his girlfriend, shooting her a rather unimpressed look. "Now do you mind telling me what this is about?"

@✶ › jeonghan。 Wonwoo doesn't know who seems more surprised by the answer that leaves his lips—him, or Jeonghan? Either way, he's left to process exactly what it is he's said, and maybe that's a good thing, because from the looks of it, Jeonghan needs those few seconds too. He clears his throat in an attempt to clear the awkward air, sighing inwardly. It's too late to take it back now, isn't it? And Wonwoo can't exactly say he wants to, either.

It's just one day, he finds himself thinking. Just one day in hopes of easing whatever it is that troubles Jeonghan—because if he knows the man, then there's definitely something.

Wonwoo follows Jeonghan towards the rooftop, rather familiar with the area—he'd come up here a few times for a quick smoke. Part of him wants to take out a cigarette, his fingers twitching, but he /is/ here for Jeonghan (as loathe as he is to admit). He doesn't think the prince would appreciate it much if he decided to smoke now, on his birthday of all days. So Wonwoo shoves his hands into his pockets, taking in the view that's starting to become familiar. "Nice view," he comments, suddenly aware of how these awkward sorts of conversations start when he's with Jeonghan—a comment on the weather, or on the surrounding area. It's all too familiar, and Wonwoo sighs softly, letting the wind brush his face as he waits for Jeonghan to tell him what the hell he's doing here.

@✶ › minghao。 It did not take long for Minghao to emerge from the hallway and make his way to where the princess was sitting. The confusion painted on his face was too evident to miss which delayed Sooyoung’s response to the consecutive queries thrown at her. Although, it could also be because her call for her partner was done on a whim – it was never a part of her plan, but with the things that had transpired earlier, she needed /someone/. There is still a lump in that she tried to clear, but it was futile, her voice came out raspy and foreign even to her own ears. “Can we go outside? Talk? Walk? I don’t know. Anything really.” The princess was obviously in a rush – lightheadedness looming from how the ambience felt stifling. It caused her to gripped Minghao’s hand that was closest to her and looked up to the prince, “Hao – can we?” It was more or less a plea and with all the words she had said, her eyes were doing their best to avoid even glancing at Jeonghan.

@✷ › sooyoung。 @✶ › jeonghan。 The walls don't have the best soundproofing technology—Minghao has deduced that much within the first few days here, so although he can't catch what's being spoken, he immediately picks up the faint chatter outside. Sooyoung is here, which shouldn't come off as a surprise considering today's date; he hasn't contacted her since morning for the exact same reason. He assumes that she's here to pick her brother up for a celebration elsewhere, so he directs his attention back towards the sketchbook on his desk. There's an unfinished drawing of an embroidered dress draping down a feminine figure—except that the cherry blossom print seems to be distorting itself into some grotesque thingamajig the more he stares at it. Forget pretending to be asleep: he tears the paper off without a second thought, filling in the silence of his room with a sharp ripping noise—

—which crashes with the sudden knock on his door, startling him. He shoves the sketchbook back into his drawer out of habit as Jeonghan's voice calls him. Then he gets up from his seat, eyebrows furrowed at the mention of Sooyoung's name. Did Jeonghan just say that she's here for him? But why, when it's supposed to be the other prince's special day, regardless of the negativity Sooyoung harbors for her brother? Minghao opens the door with the same confusion etched on his face, but he bites back the urge to ask the other man and instead makes a beeline towards where the princess is seated. "Sooyoung? What's going on?" he says warily, gaze shuffling between the siblings. "Did you need me for something?"

@✷ › sooyoung。 @✶ › minghao。 Jeonghan quickly makes his way toward Minghao's room, quick to pull up his usual mask—it's almost second nature at this point, to do as such. He wonders what made Sooyoung come here for Minghao, but he supposes that isn't any of his business. The birthday greeting most likely happened simply because Jeonghan happened to be home, and Minghao was who she'd come here for in the first place. But still, he can't deny that it still made him happy.

Ah. He wonders if he's been so deprived of sibling affections that he's settled for even just the barest of minimums. But then again, is this not his own making?

He reaches Minghao's door far sooner than he'd like, but he's standing in front of him, a hand raised to knock. He knocks once, twice, before speaking as loudly as he can. "Prince Minghao?" he calls, "Sooyoung-ah is here for you."

@✶ › jeonghan。 She could only watch as her brother let his hand drop to his side. Though, it made her core swell, making it quite hard to breathe, causing teardrops to form and shift dangerously close to the edge of her eyes. Sooyoung blinks it away, looking down at the doormat situated by the entrance. The tepid air that escaped the house the moment Jeonghan had opened the door widely caused goosebumps to form on the princess’ arms. She rubs them away – muffled gratitude escaping her lips. “He doesn’t know I’m here…” Sooyoung adds, her mind completing it further with, ‘...because I came here for you.’ It was left unsaid—for both of their sakes.

The princess makes her way to the nearest seat to sit down, to calm down. She watched as her brother walked away – took note of how rapid it was and how there were no further words said after that. What was she expecting even? Sooyoung was not even sure herself but she’ll know it once she hears it. Maybe next time – even so it was more likely to be never.

@✶ › j. wonwoo。 A wave of disappointment washes over Jeonghan at Wonwoo's initial response, but then again, he supposes he's expected that. It /is/ a selfish demand, after all, to ask such a thing from someone he had been the first to leave. But surprise overwrites his disappointment, and he's looking at Wonwoo with said surprise painting all over his visage, eyes widening slightly. Of course, Jeonghan had wanted this, but he hadn't expected it, no. For the first few moments, he's rendered speechless, the words 'are you sure about this?' dancing at the tip of his tongue, but he swallows them down.

There's no need to push Wonwoo away when he's taken Jeonghan's hand already. (He wishes this had been his thought back then too.)

He smiles instead, letting his hand fall to his side, sliding up his other arm. Truthfully, he did not plan anything. His initial agenda upon coming home was to get enough rest from what should be a thirty minute nap, before continuing on for the rest of the day, distracted by the dull routine of going through documents from the thoughts that are sure to bother him the moment his guards are let down. "Well then, please follow me," he says, before walking toward the stairs, heading toward the rooftop.

@✶ › jeonghan。 Jeonghan calls his name, and God, Wonwoo should really just ignore him. Wonwoo should pretend as if he hadn't heard a thing and head straight for his room, no interruptions. He can spend the rest of the day reading his book and pretending as if he still isn't hopelessly invested in a not-relationship that had ended two long years ago. If he had any sense, he would.

But Wonwoo's never been known for sensibility. So he looks back at Jeonghan, and he wonders exactly why this man is so keen on torturing himself—on torturing both of them, really. Hadn't they agreed to be strangers for their own sanity?

He really should say no—it's that simple. But instead, Wonwoo sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. He's never truly been able to resist Jeonghan, and it irks him that even now, that fact seems to persist. He wonders exactly how much more they'll need to go through before he finally decides that it's enough. "I don't think that's a good idea," he says honestly. How badly he wants to leave it at that, to turn around and walk away. "But... is there anything you want to do, then?"

@✷ › sooyoung。 Sooyoung moves away as though repulsed by Jeonghan's touch, and while he knows she isn't to blame for it, he can't deny the hurt that comes with it. It comes with a familiar tide, and he takes a sharp inhale, his hand lingering where his sister's head had been, before he closes his hand to a loose fist and lets it fall by his side.

It isn't fair, she says, and he agrees.

A pity life doesn't seem to want to grace them with what they had in the past, childhood innocence lost far too early. Jeonghan himself would most likely never completely let go of what he once held with his own two hands, before his wrists were tied into strings under the control of the King and Queen. But he should give that chance of letting go to Sooyoung, to the people he's had to let go.

(But can he be blamed for missing them so?)

Of course, it's Minghao, and Jeonghan doesn't really bother with his usual cordial smile, tired as he is. "Of course," he says, and he takes a step to the side, opening the door more widely. "Would you like to come inside while you wait for him? He should be in his room, unless he already knows you're coming."

@✶ › jeonghan。 Jeonghan's gesture made Sooyoung suddenly look up, meeting his brother's eyes in the process. It ached – it was there, the warmth she liked to seek for whenever she feels troubled, whenever she feels confused. Yet, at the moment, the exact pair of warm eyes made her feel all the emotions she had been keeping bay: emotions that exposed her vulnerabilities. The hand that was gently rested on her head felt both out of place and picture perfect. The paradoxes are becoming unbearable, and Sooyoung takes a step back, her face contorting into a frown. She swallowed the lump on so she could speak, "Don't." It was firm but not close to straightforward – it could mean so many things that the princess wasn't sure herself what it was for. "Don't do that. That's not fair at all."

There was silence after that. It was a given: Sooyoung and Jeonghan could communicate through silence – it was /their/ thing. Recalling all the times she sat quietly in his study, not wanting to disturb the occupied crowned prince. Remembering how she felt weightless when she exited the room, all the burdens gone – dissipated in the air. Right now however, much like the instances from a couple seconds ago, Sooyoung feels the opposite. Perhaps wasted time really chews away on what was once precious.

"Could you call Minghao for me? Now."

@✷ › sooyoung。 Sooyoung's nervousness is evident in the way she speaks, and the resentment bleeds through the simple birthday greeting. It stabs at Jeonghan's heart with a painful guilt that he has carried since so many years ago, and his visage softens, taking a silent breath. He hopes the heaviness he feels in his chest doesn't show in his eyes, wishes that his sister doesn't so much as look up at him and see what lies behind his gaze. "Thank you, Sooyoung-ie," he says, a little more resigned, a little tired of the weight he feels on a daily basis. The weight he's tried to hide. But he's reaching out to lightly pat her head in a twisted sense of habit, one that he hasn't done in years, but he's /tired/. "You don't have to feel as if you need to return a favor. Everything I do for you is something I do without expecting anything in return."

@✶ › j. wonwoo。 There's a wave of disappointment that washes over Jeonghan, and he hopes it doesn't show in his face at all. He's good at pretending, isn't he? It should be an easy feat to hide what needs to be hidden, heart rarely ever worn on his sleeve. He eyes Wonwoo's back with a hint of panic in his heart this time—how many times would he have to watch Wonwoo turn his back on Jeonghan and walk away? Not for the first time, he wonders if this is how it felt when he had walked away himself.

And of course, like the naturally selfish person that he is, he calls out to Wonwoo, never keen on letting the man walk away easily (and maybe—just maybe—this is his heart telling him that this is what he wanted when he had walked away before, that this is something that he wished Wonwoo had done when Jeonghan had turned his back on his ex-lover). "Spend the rest of the day with me," he says, and how is it that he keeps losing control of the words that come out of his lips when it comes to Wonwoo? "If—Well, if you don't want to, I'd like you to consider this as a birthday wish of sorts instead."

@✶ › jeonghan。 Of course, it just /had/ to be her brother. Not Minghao, not anyone else they shared the house with. Sooyoung liked to think that she was quick to erase the dread from her face and replace it with a forced smile. “Hello, uh…” The princess starts with her statement carefully, “...well, I just wanted to…” The princess’ voice keeps coming out as shaky with her heart continuously pounding against her chest. “...greet you. I mean, you did greet me personally on my birthday, so. Just returning the favor.” The last part of what she stated left a bitter taste in . That is what she had been doing for more than a decade now, is it not? Returning the favor—or in this case, the lack of it. “Happy birthday.” It came out quite rough than she had intended. But then again, it was just her resentment bleeding through her words.

@✶ › jeonghan。 Oh God, Wonwoo can already see what a colossal mistake this had been.

Perhaps Wonwoo knows Jeonghan too well, because he knows exactly what the man does when he's embarrassed; and what he's doing now—an attempt at discreetly covering his face—it's a sure sign of Jeonghan's embarrassment, or perhaps even pleasure at the words that Wonwoo had said, and God, he really shouldn't have said that, should he? Because there's a smile on Jeonghan's lips that's almost reminiscent of the smile he'd always worn around Wonwoo back then, and , there's no denying that the sight makes him just a little happier than he'd been in the morning. This had clearly been a mistake, because how on earth could something as simple as a goddamn /smile/ suddenly make Wonwoo forget the past two years they'd spent apart?

Gratitude is all he needs, and he nods in response to it, intent on heading back to his room as soon as possible. He stands, ready to retreat into his own privacy, but Jeonghan asks him a question—is that really all? Yes, because Wonwoo has nothing else for him. There's no homecooked dinners, no carefully crafted paintings, no songs written in Jeonghan's honor—and yet he wants to say no anyway. He wants to look for an excuse to stay, to spend the rest of the day with Jeonghan, to catch up with him and find out what he's been up to in this time they've been apart.

But he knows he shouldn't—they need to be strangers, after all.

"Yeah," he says, perhaps a little too quickly. He turns his back, fighting back all urges to prolong this incredibly awkward conversation. "That's all. I hope the rest of your day turns out fine."

@✷ › sooyoung。 This is Jeonghan's first surprise of the day—Sooyoung standing in front of him the moment he opens the door of the house. He hadn't expected a visitor at all today, really, having forgotten his own birthday until the moment Wonyoung posted about it on social media. His surprise is written all over his face as he blinks down at Sooyoung, and he's clearing his throat lightly to break the silence. A part of him hopes that Sooyoung had come for him, perhaps to ask him to hang out or something of the sorts, but a more realistic part of him knows that this is most likely for Minghao anyway.

He bites down that disappointment, and smiles at Sooyoung instead. "Sooyoung-ie," he calls, tone soft. "What brings you here?"

@✶ › jeonghan。 Sooyoung finally concluded the moment she found her visage illuminated by the first house at Villa Magna, that her chosen course of action was a grave mistake. It was an attempt to at least greet her brother properly and sincerely as she intended, but the continuous flow of thoughts inside her head had convinced her that it was not worth it. That she would go through all the trouble only for her older brother to probably turn down her request. It was undeniably absurd, to leave Wonyoung out of the picture and no matter how much the older princess justifies her point, it will remain selfish and unreasonable.

For old time’s sake, however, she wanted to be self-indulging. Sooyoung was only wishing for maybe an hour or two to spend with Jeonghan, and maybe the next day all three of them could go out for lunch again as they did during her birthday. Yet, the moment feels so fragile. As if they were to do that, their parents would come and smash it like porcelain – shards of it scarring all three of them again, but Sooyoung the most.

She might have spaced out a little longer than she meant and someone had seen her standing incredibly still on the lawn because she was pulled out of her trance state by the sound of a wind chime, indicating that one of the league members had opened the front door.

@✶ › j. wonwoo。 Well. Jeonghan didn't expect to hear those words, and he wonders if those words should be enough to be the reason for the way he feels his cheeks warm up a little. So he tries to hide that by bringing a hand to his face, fingers loosely folded by his lips. He wonders if Wonwoo is aware what those words mean to him, and what it does to him at all. No matter, he supposes. There is nothing between them anymore—they are nothing but strangers today, like many days before, and this is merely a polite man greeting the prince of his country a happy birthday.

But that doesn't stop him from feeling the slightest bit happy anyway.

"Is that so?" he says, and his smile becomes a little more genuine this time, widening the slightest as he tilts his head to one side. "Thank you." He wonders how long he can prolong the inevitable end of this conversation, wonders how long Wonwoo will carry this exchange between the two of them, because he wants to run—a part of him wants to run away, hide and work the rest of his birthday, while another wants to run /into/ Wonwoo's arms instead.

He's biting his lower lip as he speaks without thinking, and he hopes to God Wonwoo doesn't see how nervous this is making him, hopes Wonwoo doesn't see how easy it is to make him forgo all the carefulness he's built over the years. "Is that really all?"

@✶ › jeonghan。 Alright, so... now what?

Wonwoo had intended on greeting him happy birthday, but after that? He doesn't think he'd thought it through. He'd forgotten that there was the chance of Jeonghan doing more than just thanking him, and that's exactly what he does now. Wonwoo doesn't know how to feel about it—should he be relieved that Jeonghan continued the conversation, or should he be apprehensive that Jeonghan continued the conversation?

He could always just leave, right? Go back into his room and leave it at that. But part of him doesn't want to—and given how exhausted Jeonghan looks, he doesn't think he should.

Jeonghan's never really liked his birthdays, after all. Wonwoo thinks that maybe he should give the prince this much—just well-wishes, that's all. No more than that.

"No," he says, although his voice is quiet, as if he's pondering over whether or not to continue this awkward small talk is a good decision. Because he is. "I was actually waiting for you." Should he be admitting that? He doesn't think he should. "I just wanted to greet you before the day ended. That's all."

@✶ › j. wonwoo。 Truth be told, Jeonghan isn't one to look forward to his birthday as much as others do.

He doesn't see the point of getting excited for a day that would only end up being the cause for yet again another formal event that he wants nothing to do with. Being in Medina is enough reason for him not to have a grand celebration of sorts, and it isn't as if he has that many peopple he'd want to celebrate with. His sisters are most likely out of the question, and... Jeonghan pushes the face that comes to mind away from his thoughts, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose lightly, walking back to the house with easily memorized steps.

After all, what is the point of a celebration of a day that'll be spent working anyway?

What he doesn't expect upon coming back is seeing Wonwoo first hand—had Jeonghan been out only for a short while that he managed to catch Wonwoo unintentionally? He stares at Wonwoo for a few moments after the greeting, before he wills himself to get himself together. The mask he has learned how to don around Wonwoo finds its way back to him once more, and he's smiling. That sweet, cordial smile that pains even himself to make. "Thank you," he says, and he realizes that he doesn't know what to say beyond that. "Have... Have I interrupted your reading?" he quickly follows up, gesturing lightly to the book in Wonwoo's hold with a hand.

@✶ › jeonghan。 Wonwoo doesn't exactly know why he's waiting like this.

He'd put it off since this morning, purposely leaving the house later than he normally would for the express purpose of avoiding the exact situation he's walking into right now. He'd second-guessed himself throughout the day, time and time again, before ultimately deciding—it's a simple two words, isn't it? It's something he can say to even a stranger, and if that's what he and Jeonghan are now—strangers—then there shouldn't be anything wrong with a simple greeting. That's all it is, after all. There shouldn't be any meaning to it; Wonwoo shouldn't be having second thoughts over something so meaningless. It's just another year to celebrate, just another day spent the same as always.

Still, Wonwoo can't help the way he so badly wants to avoid this, to run into the safety of his room.

But before he can second-guess himself (again), the door opens, and no matter how much Wonwoo hopes that it's Minghao entering, it's not. Wonwoo looks up from his book to see none other than Jeonghan himself, and he clears his throat in an attempt to clear his mind.

Two words. That's all he needs to say, and he can go back to ignoring this man. (Or at least, trying to.)

"Hey," Wonwoo starts, and he has to cringe inwardly at how stiff he must sound. "Welcome home—and, um. Happy birthday."

minghao ponders over it for a while, eyebrows knitted into a frown. “two days each with the exception of one,” he suggests. “perhaps either one of you since the two of you are already in charge of the cooking.” his gaze shifts expectantly between wonwoo and the butler.

"for shared chores..." jeonghan echoes. "did you have a schedule in mind?"

minghao feels slight relief washing over him. he spares a knowing glance at wonwoo before clearing his throat. "alright, one more thing," he says. "we need a schedule for shared chores—taking out trash and the like. i know we have a butler, but i'd rather have those tasks split equally among us."

/liar,/ wonwoo wants to snort, but he stands up, stretching lightly. "cool. is that all then? i've still got a lot of unpacking to do."