Archive of Our Own

Minho had loved to read for as long as he could remember. The world of books, the funny ways of words and everything else about them that was just so truly fascinating Minho could not get enough of made the experience of reading the best thing he had ever known. He truly loved to be taken into another world, he loved to pretend that this was not the reality, that there was something much more beautiful waiting for him.

To someone who so dearly loved books and stories, it might sound wonderful to spend the whole day in the library of the Vernier household, but not to Minho. He had a desire to read the books the library hid inside, not clean the whole library with all of its books and shelves and floors and chandeliers.

As he cleaned yet another row of beautiful cover-owning books, as his wrists turned his hands to be able to pick up the book that desperately needed dusting, he heard steps behind his back. Before he was able to react to the sound, the owner of the light steps already spoke.

“Minho, do I appear at least somewhat bearable looking?” Minho heard a beautiful voice say. He turned around to look at the woman before him. She was wearing an emerald green colored dress, hugging her petite body just perfectly.

“Yes, madame. You look absolutely flawless, may I add. I am convinced everyone is going to be amazed by your beauty, and by the end of the night you will undeniably have a great amount of possible suitors waiting for you,” Minho answered. The way the green matched with her lightly bronze skin looked truly beautiful on her. Ms Lourdes Vernier had a flawless face, outstanding features that not just anyone could even try to be compared to. Her beautiful emerald eyes were shining ever so brightly, blinding anyone who dared to meet her gaze. The color of the dress was the exact same shade as her eyes were, making each other shine like the brightest star in the night sky. Her dark brown hair was tied on the top part of her head, resembling a crown, and the parts that weren’t in the crown were curled to rest peacefully against her back. She was truly gorgeous. And Minho was so proud of her.

“You are flattering me, Minho. I do doubt that I am even average in these circles. I have heard that all of the ladies are truly stunning in England,” Ms Lourdes explained, the tone of her voice lowering by each word that left her mouth, and in the end her voice resembled more of a lulling cradle than an actual voice. She had a beautiful voice, and that voice shone even more when she got to sing. Her singing was one of the noises that Minho wanted to hear as the last thing before some other world would drag him in it.

“I truly am not, madame. You are flawless, and tonight, and throughout the whole season I will not be the only one thinking so.” Just as Minho was finishing the sentence, he heard heavy steps coming down the stairs, getting closer to the library where Minho and Ms Lourdes were still standing, the other fiddling with the hem of his dirty button-up shirt, the other spinning around the room in pure bliss of beauty. The person behind the heavy steps turned out to be Mr Vernier, the landlord of this house, and also the father of Ms Vernier. Behind him walked a maid, Mrs Beswick, who was not saying anything. She had a calm look on her face, which made Minho feel warm. Mrs Beswick was the main parlor maid of the Vernier household, also technically Minho’s executive. She was usually a very lovely lady, especially to Minho, but if she was mad, it was the end for everyone.

“Oh, Lourdes. You look flawless, truly beautiful, just like your mother, chére,” Mr Vernier said. There was a specific sparkle in his eyes as he stared at his daughter. Similar sparkle had only been in his eyes when he had looked at Ms Lourdes’ mother, the one he had called his true love.

“Thank you, père. I try to honor her memory as much as I can,” Ms Lourdes answered. The loss of Mrs Vernier had been a tough thing for the whole Vernier household. Each cook had accompanied each servant crying during their shifts while Ms and Mr Vernier lived in a huge shadow, each day passing without them even noticing. Each night Minho listened to Ms Lourdes screaming in her sleep, the screams asking for her mother, begging for her to return, but knowing she never would. Those heartbreaking screams helped Minho. The salty tears leaving a wet trail on his dry and stinging cheeks before escaping to the tough ground didn’t feel as bad anymore.

"Minho, Lourdes and I would be blessed to have you in the opening ceremony tonight. I am convinced your help at the start of the season will be needed more than we could ever expect. That's why I have decided to take you with us to the opening ceremony to help the Colwicks with arrangements," Mr Vernier said, his gaze solely glued onto Minho. Mr Vernier had his other arm around his daughter's shoulders, pulling the young girl tightly against his side. The action made the room smell of protection and care, two things Minho had never had the privilege to receive from his own father. But the way Mr Vernier kept looking at him with warmth in his eyes made him feel cared for, too. It was enough for him.

"It would be my honor, monseigneur. I am looking forward to this night. But now, may I continue my duties with dusting these books. I am afraid I might not be able to be ready on time tonight, if we continue to discuss for much longer." Minho knew he sounded sarcastic, after all he didn't believe a single thing that escaped his lips. He was glad he didn't let the eyeroll he desired to do leave his tough hold. The parties, ceremonies, the seasons, everything about their way of life made Minho want to vomit. Everything around him was just so fake. He knew Mr Vernier knew his hatred towards this environment, but the count didn’t invite him to the opening ceremony to feel bad. He wanted Minho to be there. And Minho wanted to be there, just for Mr Vernier.

"Of course, Minho. I trust you can change into something a bit more fitting for the evening. Chére, we shall leave now." Mr Vernier turned his daughter around, and walked them out of the library, leaving Minho alone. He turned around, muttering something incoherent about having to dress up, and started to dust the books he only had desire to read.

—

"Please, help!" I screamed over again. My voice was already scratchy from the forever long shouting and freezing cold air. My eyes were covered in tears, and my cheeks were burning from the dried salt my old tears had left.

"Help my mom, please!" I kept screaming. Only thing I got in response were stares that were so judgmental they traveled down my spine, scaring me to death. I fell on his knees, too terrified to stand.

"My- my mom needs help!" I tried. I wiped the new tears away with my ice cold hands, smearing blood on my cheeks. It was so cold. And I was so tired. I just wanted to rest for a while.

I lowered my head onto the snowy ground, ready to close my eyes just for a small moment, long enough for me to be able to shout again. I could feel my body trembling, but I knew there was nothing I could do about it. Just a small moment of rest.

Just as I was about to close his eyes, I saw a black figure getting closer to me. The black figure crouched on my level, and said something I couldn't understand. Just before I let the waves of dreams take me I whispered the only words I knew that the figure could also understand. "Ma mère," I said.

I was already slipping to unconsciousness when the figure took my body up from the cold ground, and started to walk me to the direction where a path of small and bloody footsteps were taking us, the exact same path I had walked just a couple of minutes ago in the hopes of finding help. Maybe the figure could save my mom.

—

The clothes never fit well, or maybe he just didn’t want them to fit. Maybe it was more of an attitude problem, but who didn’t love to complain. Minho didn't own any better formal clothes than the ones he was now wearing, so with pants that he had to lift repeatedly, and that were folded at least four times from the ankle, and with a shirt that would just not fit, he said he was ready. He could survive with everything else, but the fact that his trousers kept falling all the time was a bit bothersome. Before Minho totally gave up, he saw something shining underneath his scuffed bookcase. Minho walked towards it, and crouched down to pick it up. Between his fingertips was laying a rusty and aged darning needle. That would have to do it. With slightly sweaty hands Minho put the needle through the ribbing of his trousers, making the trousers match his waist a bit better. The darning needle was surely something old but also something quite handy.

When Minho arrived to the dining room, Mr Vernier and Ms Lourder were already waiting for him. The older man looked disappointed, but decided not to comment anything about Minho’s appearance, which made a tiny bit of joy travel through Minho’s body. Minho knew Mr Vernier wanted to joke something about MInho’s clothes, but now he couldn’t, it wasn’t fitting for the situation.

“Your carriage is here, my lord,” one of Mr Vernier’s butlers said, which made the crew of three, consisting of Ms Lourdes, Mr Vernier and Minho, start walking down the stairs of the residence.

The manoir was the most beautiful thing Minho had ever seen, and the most luxurious residence he would ever get to call his home. The high roofs with beautiful chandeliers, the elaborate staircases which lead to even more gorgeous floors, the exotic fabrics from faraway lands covering the floors, the windows and couches and the vast variation of the books in the most stunning library Minho had ever witnessed made this manoir truly seem like a wonderland. Minho knew it wasn’t, but sometimes he let himself pretend. What else could have he done? He had no way of getting out, he was stuck in this prison for as long as Mr Vernier wanted to keep him, which was until Ms Lourdes got married. Till then, he only had his imagination, his crazy little fairy tales he created in the hopes of something better, something wonderful.

“Minho, let’s go. It is our time to leave now,” Mr Vernier said. His gaze was soft as he looked at Minho, just like a father would look like their son. It was nice, and it made Minho feel warm. Because of that Minho had promised to himself, and to his mother that he wasn’t going to disappoint Mr Vernier, ever, which is why he decided to be even more attentive tonight than usual. He was going to impress everyone who dared to watch him. Even if it was the duke, whose name he just couldn’t remember, he would impress him, he had decided that.

The journey from the Vernier’s residence to the duke’s chateau wasn’t that long, maybe thirty minutes on the carriage, which gave Minho a great chance to look at the view changing before him. He had always enjoyed watching people, not because he wanted to judge them like everyone else, but because he wanted to figure out their likes and dislikes, their professions and favorite ways to spend freetime. He wanted to see if kids lived in the residence, if they were already grown up or still young, if the parents truly loved the kids or were they more of a burden to them, did the parents truly love each other, or were they more of a burden to each other.

From one house Minho could immediately see the three young kids, because the kids were climbing a tree in their front yard. The kids happily waved at their carriage as they passed, and Minho beamingly waved back, Mr Vernier following the action, while Ms Lourdes seemed uninterested. Only then did Minho notice a young couple sitting on the front porch, watching their kids lovingly, before turning to look at each other with even more loving expressions. The couple seemed very young, probably the youngest Minho had ever seen. The man- or boy had his arm wrapped around the girl’s shoulders, while softly kissing her forehead, and the crown of hair on top of her head. The girl had wrapped her hands around the boy’s fingers, stroking them, and from time to time kissing his knuckles. Minho smiled to himself, it was almost rare to see love that strong. He hoped to see that family again, he wanted to meet them, and congratulate them for finding happiness.

Some of the houses weren’t as telling. Minho might have been able to see a bookcase through the windows, or a warm light in the dining room, or a well maintained garden, but nothing could tell him more of the people. It was almost depressing, because Minho felt like these people did not have a life other than a perfectly organized bookshelf, or a delicious meal no one knew how to appreciate. Maybe they did, maybe Minho was wrong, but from those few things he had seen from these circles, he knew that apart from the season’s excitement, everyone's lives were fairly boring.

It was much later, very close to the duke’s chateau, when another house with a story attracted Minho’s attention. The residence itself wasn’t that different from the others, it looked as empty and depressing as everything else, but Minho could see something else behind that facade. He saw a girl sitting with her back against the house wall with a book in her hands. She looked like she was only around 15-years-old, very young, very naive and jejune, but her face shone as she flipped the book pages. She looked so into the story, like she was living the story instead of her actual life. If Minho had the powers to transfer her to that universe she was reading about, Minho would have already done that. The girl looked so happy, she looked like she belonged there. Minho wondered if he looked similar when he was reading, as happy and carefree. He hoped he did.

Before Minho could even notice, the carriage stopped. They were here, at the duke’s chateau. Minho didn’t get to have many seconds to admire the huge mansion in front of him before he saw someone coming to them.

“Count Vernier, pleasure to have you back after 19 years. Sadly I am here to welcome you here instead of my father, but I am convinced my father would be the happiest he has been in a long time to see you have returned. The whole crowd is pleased to have you back. I have heard them talk about yours and your daughter’s return for ages now, and I have to tell you that I have waited too. I wanted to see if you really have not aged a day, which I have to say is true. I would have recognized you even when I had last seen you as a 10-year-old,” the man said, and offered his hand for Mr Vernier to take, who took it without hesitation.
“Pleasure to be back, Duke Colwick. I am sure we can get along just as well as your father and I did during the days we worked together, we are gentlemen after all. My condolences for your loss, your father was a great man. Mr Colwick, may I introduce my daughter, Lourdes Vernier.” The duke seemed interested in Lourdes already. He took her hand in his, and bowed before kissing her hand softly. In response Lourdes smiled her dazzling smile and dropped a curtsy.

The duke Colwick was a good-looking man, he had sandy brown hair, dark eyebrows, even darker eyes that seemed to eat Minho whole as they turned to look at him. The duke’s cheekbones were high, and his jawline was prominent. Even through his clothes, Minho could see the duke had a lot of muscle, he was big and strong, just perfect to be a duke. For some reason Minho had decided to hate him already. The man just seemed like a snake. He didn’t have good intentions in life, Minho was sure about it, he just wished he could prove it.

“Pleasure to meet you, Ms Lourdes. And who does this man happen to be?” Duke Colwick asked, his tone immediately mocking as he started to talk about Minho. The way he looked at Minho like he was the floor he walked on, or the rubbish he threw on the ground made Minho’s boil. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t dare to, but he could already see how the list of the dirty words he knew would be growing soon, as he tried to figure out more ways to insult the slimy, jerk duke.

“He is our servant, Minho. I thought about giving him to help you with arranging the opening ceremony. From my own experience I can say that it can be very exhausting to both you and your servants. Minho is a very good servant, the best one I could find,” Mr Vernier explained. Minho could take the things said about him as compliments, but he couldn’t help but to think that he was currently being sold. And he despised it with every cell in his body. Minho knew Mr Vernier didn’t mean the words like that, he just had to say something to be able to include Minho.

Before the duke said anything, he swayed his hand as a sign for the closest guard to come closer, and for a moment Minho was sure he would be sent home. “I do appreciate your gift, Count Vernier. My guard here will show this Minhee the way to the kitchen. You and your daughter can go up already, make yourself at home, eat something, drink well, discourse with other guests, I insist. We’ll see each other in twenty minutes. Enjoy the ceremony!” And as quickly as he had appeared, the duke was also gone.

At the same moment the duke started to walk away, the guard started to drag him away. He was annoyed by the fact that the guard kept dragging him like he was some sort of animal. However he was even more annoyed by the duke. So, he spent all of his energy being annoyed about how the duke called him Minhee, which was a girls’ name, which the duke probably knew. The duke had given Minho a lot more reasons to hate him in just a few seconds, and Minho wondered if he would be getting a lot more reasons in the near future.

Before he even realized, he was pushed into a kitchen by the guard, almost making him fall face first into the ground. The kitchen was filled with hussle and bussle, everyone seemed to be running, so busy with everything they had to do. Before Minho had a chance to even take everything he was seeing, he heard someone speak behind him, making him turn around.

“Boy, these here are champagne glasses, and this is the champagne we are using tonight. Take this tray, fill it with as many glasses as you can, and go walk around the ballroom with it. Try to get as many people as possible to take a glass of champagne before the clock hits eight,” an old woman said to Minho, not even realizing he wasn’t working here. Other servants were running around hastily, carrying at least three trays of grubs each time they left the kitchen, and came back ready to carry the same amount again. Minho could feel his breath hitching, and a lump started to form in his throat. He couldn’t carry three trays, he wasn’t that type of servant. He couldn’t serve lords or ladies. He had been convicted.

The old woman didn’t seem to notice or care about Minho’s discomfort, because in no time she was already giving orders to other servants. Minho had to do this, he had no other choice. He took one bottle of champagne, and opened it before starting to pour it into the glasses. The champagne was colored pink, and each time it hit a new glass, beautiful bubbles appeared on it. How can champagne be that beautiful? When the first bottle was empty, Minho took the tray full of champagne glasses, and started carrying it out of the kitchen, hands still sweaty and shaky. He was so terrified he’d drop the tray. There would be champagne more expensive than his life flooding on the russet colored floor, and the horrible pungent sound of glass hitting the ground, making everyone stare straight at Minho. Minho could feel his heartbeat in his throat, and his stomach felt so sick, like he could throw up in any given second. He was so terrified.

When Minho stepped into the ballroom, he could see tons of beautiful dresses and suits twirling all around him. All of the lords and ladies looked so beautiful, so much like they belonged into this world, this setting, this moment with each other. And somehow Minho felt a bit sorry for them.

His gaze got caught into one specific person across the ballroom. Her beautiful green dress, her dark curls, her flawless face. She was so beautiful, so desired, so perfect. And Minho wasn’t the only one who had noticed her, because there was a literal line of young lords waiting to be able to have a conversation with Ms Lourdes. She was so perfect, and Minho was so proud.

While being too caught up in his thoughts he started walking again with the tray, which caused him to bump hard on someone. He was immediately terrified that the glasses would drop, but the stranger was faster than him. They put their arms on the sides of the tray, preventing any of them from dropping. However, one of the glasses managed to escape his arms, but before it hit the floor, the stranger put their foot underneath it. The foot softened to drop so much that when the stranger let the glass fall on the ground, it didn’t break, only the champagne started to flood from the glass.

“I am so sorry,” Minho started as he lowered the rest of the champagnes on the nearest table, before crouching down to wipe the champagne off the floor with the towel he had gotten with the apron from the kitchen. “I apologize greatly for bumping into you. And I owe you a huge thank you for stopping the glasses from falling. I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

“Do not worry, I am totally fine. Are you perhaps a new servant here?” the voice of the stranger said. It was surprisingly deep, but yet so warm, almost like honey. Because of the voice Minho finally turned to look up at the stranger, and fuck, was the rest of him as gorgeous as his voice. His clothes fitted him, and they were the same style as everyone else’s clothes too. The outfit reminded him of Mr Vernier, as put-together and polished. The only differences to Mr Vernier were the black gloves hiding his hands and the pin on his waistcoat, telling that the stranger was a marquis. The stranger’s face shone with confidence, and Minho couldn’t blame him. The stranger had big and curious eyes that were also seductive, his nose was perfect and it had a slope, his cheeks were round, but from the right angle they made him look even manlier and maturer than before. Even his lips seemed perfect. The man was perfect. He had stupidly perfect hair, clothes, and face. He was so perfect, and Minho felt like a horse had run over him, and mushed his brain.

“No, I am not, sir. My mister and mistress asked me to join them here tonight, and help the duke’s family with the arrangements of the opening ceremony,” Minho answered, while he stood up from the floor, which was now all champagne free.

“Please, do not call me a sir, it makes me feel old. Jisung is just fine,” the stranger, or Jisung, said. This Jisung seemed truly nice, almost allertingly nice. Minho had never met someone who seemed to have such a kind heart. In the Vernier residence everyone always had some sort of plan behind their actions, nothing good was ever done only because of its goodness.

“Okay, I won’t Jisung. But I must excuse myself. I have to share these champagnes to everyone, and I need to make at least six more rounds to get everyone a glass. And I have barely ten minutes left. Thank you for your help, but now I must go.” Before Minho had the chance to take the tray, and leave, Jisung stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

“How about I help you with those? I can carry a tray, so you don’t have to worry about that. We’ll be a lot faster if we work together,” Jisung said, looking almost hopefully at Minho. He looked more like a kicked puppy than an actual man. Sadly, Minho liked cats more than dogs.

“You already helped me, Jisung. I could not accept yet another favor. If I start now, I will make it in time.” Minho had already made his decision, and was sure about it. Only it was a bit annoying that Jisung seemed like he hadn’t even heard Minho’s words. Damn it, that guy.

“Then you’d owe me two favors, and I am sure in the future I will need those favors more than one could even imagine,” Jisung said, the tone of his voice cheery. And maybe Minho wasn’t that into cats anymore, because he let Jisung help him. He let Jisung take the tray, when he returned to the kitchen to fill more glasses with another bottle. When he returned to the ballroom, he could see how Jisung was surrounded by people, and how the tray was totally empty. Jisung was famous in these circles, everyone knew him. He was the marquis, only the duke and royal family being higher than him. Jisung seemed to shine as the lights hit his face, he looked so perfect. How could Minho ever do a favor to someone like him?

Minho walked towards Jisung and the crowd surrounding him. No one seemed to notice Minho as he walked there, no one except for Jisung, whose eyes met Minho’s almost immediately. In no time he was already walking towards Minho, meeting him at the halfway point of the journey. Jisung’s grin was priceless as he stared at Minho, almost like studying him. It made Minho’s heart beat faster, but not in that unpleasant way it often did, this felt nice, and it even stopped his hand from shaking.

“How about you fill the glasses while I give them around? I don’t understand why, but apparently getting champagne from the marquis seems like a huge compliment to these people.” When Jisung stopped speaking, he chuckled lightly, making Minho chuckle too. Minho agreed, because it also meant that he didn’t have to be around all of those people that long, let alone talk to them.

That’s how they started working together, Minho giving Jisung a full tray of champagne glasses, which Jisung took, and started to go around while Minho returned to the kitchen to fill more glasses. And just like Minho predicted, after six rounds most of the people at the opening ceremony had a glass of champagne in their hands. When Minho came to take the last empty tray from Jisung, the other stopped him from leaving.

“We did a pretty good job, don’t you think?” Jisung asked. He still stared at Minho the same way, like he wanted to know him, like there were levels in Minho that needed to be studied. The idea made shivers run down Minho’s spine, but once again in a good way.

“Yes, we did. We are quite a good team, aren’t we?” Minho usually didn’t like these types of events, and even less he liked the people visiting them. They just weren’t made for him. And he also felt a little sorry for everyone who was trapped into these circles. But for some reason he didn’t dislike Jisung. The other boy seemed too warm to be hated.

“You never told me who your mister and mistress were, and I am curious to know.” Jisung was so good at this, so good at talking about insignificant things. He wasn’t cumbersome like Minho, he seemed so natural, so much like he belonged here.

“Mr Vernier, and his daughter, Lourdes Vernier. They moved here for this season after living in France for Ms Lourdes' whole childhood,” Minho explained. Usually he felt hatred when he had to talk about all of this. He didn’t like to talk about something as private and confusing as all of this. He could still bear it, but talking about the Vernier family was something he truly didn’t like. Maybe it was because he couldn’t tell the truth that was dying to be told, or maybe it was because there was really nothing to tell, just a few stories of souls so broken they were beyond repair. But for some reason talking with Jisung about this didn't make him feel bad, it just seemed normal.

“Oh, how small the world is. I actually talked with Ms Lourdes earlier tonight. She is truly an amazing woman, so kind and warm-hearted, and her appearance isn’t something one could ever improve, that perfect she is. If I do not have a chance to chat with her anymore tonight, kiss her hand for me, please?” Jisung said, and something in his voice changed during his last words. Minho wanted to automatically label it as fondness, but it wasn’t that. Something in his tone seemed so forced, like he didn’t want to say the words that were lying on his tongue. And for that moment Minho believed that maybe Jisung wasn’t that perfect for this world after all. Maybe he didn’t belong here as much as Minho thought. Maybe.

Maybe Minho could have something to offer Jisung too, maybe he could do Jisung those two favors he had promised to.

”Yeah, I will. I guess I should go now,” Minho said before he turned around to leave. Before he could do that, a hand grabbed onto his wrist, preventing him from walking farther away.

”You never told me your name. Could you do that, please?” Jisung asked with a small smile, now letting go of Minho’s wrist. For some reason Minho kind of missed the touch on his skin.

”Oh right. I’m Minho, Lee Minho,” he answered with a smile matching Jisung’s one.

”Well, it was nice to meet you, Minho,” Jisung said before turning around and returning back to his right place.

—

My hand held my mother’s as we both cried. I wasn’t sure why I was crying, I wasn’t sure why my mother was crying. I was only sure about the blood everywhere, and the bloody swaddling clothes in my mother’s arms.

My mother only kept crying and hugging the small ball in her chest. My mother’s eyes were closed, but fresh tears kept coming under her eyelids no matter what. I had never seen a sight like that, and it made my chest hurt. My mother had explained that when my father had died, her heart had broken. Maybe my heart broke now, too. Maybe my heart was in four pieces in my chest, one piece for my father, one piece for the small, bloody ball, one piece for my mother, and the last piece, the smallest piece, for myself.

My father had always said that my heart was too huge for this world, so maybe if I gave pieces of it away, it wouldn’t be too huge. Maybe now my heart was the same size as everyone else’s, and I didn’t have to worry about being too much with my heart.

My mother’s hand on my own woke me up from my dreaming, and the action made me look at my mother. Her eyes were as red as blood, my mother had said that when someone is feeling a lot, and letting their heart bleed, their eyes turn bloodshot, as evidence of the hurt they are feeling. My mother had been hurting so much, because her eyes were very red. Her heart was bleeding so much, but I was sure she was going to be fine, because I had given a part of my heart to her.

“My baby. Can you climb up here?” My mother asked, and I of course climbed up. I climbed onto the bed, and laid right next to my mother, who wrapped her arms around me, squeezing hard. We stayed like that for a while, until my mother talked again.
“You are not getting a little brother after all, baby. But do not worry. We have survived together before, just the two of us, right?” My mother sounded so sad, but she still made me sparkle with hope. Maybe my heart grew back to its original size again. Maybe it was not worth it giving those pieces away, maybe everyone had to let their heart bleed away, and grow back to the way it was at their own pace.

The man who had saved me from the snow, and my mother from my little brother spoke something in a language I couldn’t understand. I turned to look at my mother, who seemed to had understood completely. She also looked like she had made up her mind about how she was going to answer to the man. And I could only hope that the answer wouldn’t break her heart any more, because soon she wouldn’t have a heart at all. All of the broken pieces of her heart would bleed away, and she would die too. And I wasn’t sure if I could bear anymore deaths in my life.

—

It had been two weeks since the opening ceremony at the duke’s house. It had been beautiful, everything had been beautiful. The duke had even danced with Lourdes twice during the night, while he danced with all of the other ladies just once. Also Jisung had danced with Lourdes, and he had kissed the lady’s hand on his own, leaving Minho free from the job. But even during the dance Jisung had seemed so, how could one describe it, uninterested. His whole body was in the dance, and he smiled that charming smile of his, but his eyes didn’t shine. His eyes looked like they were trapped into a cage, all of the nonchalance and happiness seemed to be gone.

Minho hadn’t met Jisung during the past two weeks, mostly because he had been trapped inside for the whole time. When Mr Vernier found out that Minho had asked the help of the marquis with his only given task, and everyone saw it, he had bursted out laughing. When he calmed down, he scolded Minho. As a punishment Mr Vernier didn’t allow him to leave the house, but Minho couldn’t even name a prize better than that. Each day after he had finished his duties, he could lock himself in the Vernier’s library, and read. During the last two weeks he had finished 6 books, all hopeless love stories that Minho wanted to hate but couldn’t help but love. For example a novel called Jane Eyre had truly melted his heart, and now he was sure he would much rather live in Thornfield with Mr Rochester than in the still nameless Vernier’s manoir with Ms Lourdes. He was dying to use the words William Shakespeare created for Hamlet's “To be, or not to be, that’s the question” during some conversation with Ms Lourdes, and watch as she understood absolutely nothing. Minho was such a lovely person.

However, today he couldn’t hide in the manoir for the whole day. Mr Vernier had decided to ask him to join them at the garden party arranged by the viscount’s family. Both the duke and the marquis would be there, which made Ms Lourdes very excited. For the whole day she and her maids had been walking around the manoir in the hopes of finding something perfect to wear. Minho wasn’t sure if Lourdes felt like she had managed, but Minho thought she was even more beautiful than in the opening ceremony, or on the dates she had gone with the many young lords who had asked her. She was wearing a light pink dress, which had white lace over the collar, the end of the sleeves and the skirt, making the dress appear even more beautiful. It fit her petite and tanned form so well, Minho thought it wasn’t even possible. This time her hair was in two braids, framing her face flawlessly. Minho made a mental note for him to smack Jisung if he still looked uninterested when Ms Lourdes walked to him looking like a princess from a fairytale.

After he had last showed himself to the outside world with his old and dirty shirt, and too big trousers, Mr Vernier had decided to give him some of his too small clothes to wear, which was the reason why he was now wearing a clear white button up, and a little fluffy and washed-out waistcoat that was still a bit more sophisticated than his clothes before, but still not fine enough to mistake him from a lord. He had even gotten new, once black, now more dark gray trousers that were neat, but not too fancy. And Mr Vernier had been generous enough to give him a belt too, which meant he could abandon the old darning needle he had used for that purpose before. If he remembered correctly he had thrown it to an unused drawer of his.

It had just rained when they stepped outside. Minho could hear Ms Lourdes complaining about the slippery ground, but Minho had to stop for a moment before stepping into the carriage. Had the air always been this fresh? He wasn’t sure, but he was sure that he had never felt as pure as he did when he stood outside, standing on the slippery road, breathing in and out while listening to kids' laughing somewhere a few blocks away. When he stepped into the carriage, he couldn’t help but think that maybe the garden party wouldn’t be that horrible. He could spend the day outside, and if he was lucky no one would even notice that he existed. He could stay in the shadows, and maybe have a conversation with Jisung.

“Minho, I do not care what you do today, but I have two wishes. One, try not to get in Lourdes' way. She could possibly be courted by the duke or marquis, and I don’t want anything to go wrong. And two, do not ask the help of the marquis, please. I’ll admit, it was hilarious to hear how he had helped you, but it was also so embarrassing to try to explain how my servant was able to make the marquis do anything like that. So, please, don't use the marquis as a servant.” When Mr Vernier finished, he chuckled lightly, making Minho chuckle also. Lourdes, however, stayed quiet. Minho had always wondered how Ms Lourdes could look so much like her mother, but yet act totally different from her.

“I’ll do my best, monseigneur,” Minho said with a teasing smile before turning his gaze to look at the view, the houses changing right before his eyes. This time the journey was even shorter, making it impossible for Minho to see a lot of people, and study them.

Inside one house he saw a woman throwing a glass jar towards a wall. The throw had so much hidden feeling, not hatred, not disgust, instead fear and disappointment. Minho saw something carved on the golden slab on their mailbox. “Mrs and Mr Harton,” he read. Minho wasn’t sure why that same sounded so familiar, but he hoped to find that out soon. Something in that throw had piqued Minho’s interest. The throw wasn’t perfect, it wasn’t calm and collected, it wasn’t brave or flawless. It was imperfect, it was similar to the feeling of not belonging, the one Minho was very familiar with. But after seeing that throw, Minho felt like he wasn’t that much of an outsider anymore, because he had proof that someone else wasn’t perfect in this world either. It wasn’t only Minho who seemed to not be blinded by these circles.

When they arrived at the viscount’s vicarage, called Poppyvale, Minho immediately noticed how fitting the name was. The vicarage didn’t seem to have a garden, as the whole place looked like a beautiful flower field. Each corner of the massive yard seemed to be covered in beautiful and exotic flowers, all in different kinds of set-ups, each more beautiful than the one before. Minho felt like his breath was knocked up from his lungs, he was so amazed.

He was so amazed to notice the threat getting closer to him, until it hit him. The duke had bumped into him, most likely purposely, making him lurch forward. Minho managed to catch his balance before falling straight onto the ground, and immediately he turned to look at Colwick with a murderous glint in his eyes. It annoyed him even more that the duke didn’t seem to care at all about what he did, as he didn’t even glance at Minho again. The duke was once again all over Ms Lourdes, and all of his attention was solemnly on her. Minho was glad someone looked at Lourdes like they could take the moon from the sky for her, but he couldn’t help but want that someone to be anyone else but the duke.

“Getting lost in your thoughts?” The unexpected voice made Minho flinch. He turned to look at the source of the voice, and unsurprisingly it was Jisung. Today Jisung was wearing a blue waistcoat and a suit jacket with a pair of black neat trousers, and those same gloves as before. Jisung looked unfairly perfect, even better than in the opening ceremony too weeks ago.

“Yes, I was, before you gave me a heart attack,” Minho joked, and chuckled softly. Jisung’s lips formed into a smile, and Minho could feel his insides flipping around because of the smile. Weird, he had never felt that before. Nothing had ever made him feel like that before.

“My apologies. Count Vernier, would it be appropriate for me to borrow your servant for a little while?” When Jisung asked the question, he turned to look at Mr Vernier, his face now looking a lot more serious than a few moments before. That type of duality scared Minho, how could someone be so open, yet so closed. Minho couldn’t help but want to figure Jisung out, the other just seemed so interesting.

“Of course, Marquis Han. Just remember to bring him back,” Mr Vernier joked, and Minho could feel a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Mr Vernier seemed so carefree sometimes, he looked so many years younger then, so much more than the old and tired man who lost his wife.

“Don’t worry, sir. I will bring him back in one piece.” And with those words Minho and Jisung started to walk away from Mr Vernier, and towards the beautiful yard filled with more flowers Minho could ever count.

“Why haven’t I seen you since the opening ceremony?” Jisung asked immediately after they had reached the distance where Mr Vernier wouldn’t be able to hear their conversation. Something in the tone Jisung used screamed worry, and Minho wasn’t totally sure why the other was so concerned. It had been only two weeks.

“I was put under house arrest by Mr Vernier. It was my punishment for asking for your help with the champagnes,” Minho explained softly. He really wanted to watch the flowers around him, but some invisible force was stopping him. Instead he only stared at Jisung’s face. A face that was so beautiful and perfect Minho almost started shaking. The way Jisung puffed out his cheeks, or unconsciously scratched the mole on his face, or let his eyes flutter close made Minho feel sick. But instead of the usual horrible sickness, this sickness felt almost good. There was good nausea in his stomach.

“Oh, Minho, I am so sorry! I wouldn’t have helped if I knew you were going to be in trouble for it,” Jisung apologized quickly. Why did this man in front of Minho have to be so perfect? He was so good looking but also way too kind. How was it possible?

“Do not worry, Jisung. I actually had fun, I just completed my duties and read, and spent time with Ms Lourdes more than usual,” Minho said truthfully.

“I am glad you have enjoyed your time. How is Ms Lourdes, has she talked about me?” Something about Jisung’s question made Minho feel different type of nausea. This one didn’t feel pleasant, he felt uncomfortable, and almost – betrayed. He had no reason to, but he did.

“She is alright. And yes, she talks about you a lot. With only pure intentions I want to warn you, she isn’t in love with you, she is in love with the title marchioness that will be added to her name if she marries you. The same thing is going on with the duke too, so don’t feel like you’ve lost anything.”

“I took her for someone who doesn’t really care about me, clearly I was right. She would be a good wife, she has good manners, she comes from a good and high family, and she is truly beautiful. It is a bit sad she doesn’t have a good heart on top of those things.”

“She does have a good heart, she just doesn’t always know how to show it to people," Minho explained, turning to look at the flowers once again.

“But you do know, right? You are one of the kindest people I’ve ever met.” That made Minho turn his gaze back at Jisung, who had the same warm smile on his face once again. Minho felt the good nausea once again, and for some reason his cheeks felt warmer than before.

“I can say the same about you,” Minho responded, after he finally found his voice once again. ”I guess Ms Lourdes has a good face and I have a good heart, not that it means anything.”

"I wouldn't necessarily say your face looks bad, either." Minho felt his cheeks heating up even more when Jisung said that. Stupid Jisung with his stupid words.

For a moment Minho didn't respond, he didn't know what to say. He was glad Jisung's presence felt so comfortable, so the silence didn't turn into an awkward one. They just kept walking through the garden in silence, watching as the flowers bowed at their feet.

"Minho, you do owe me two favors. Do you remember?" Jisung asked after a while.

"Yes, I do. Have you figured out what you want?"

"I want Ms Lourdes to choose me instead of the duke, or anyone else. Can you make that happen? That'd be my first wish, I am saving the second for later."

"I fear that my opinion or words aren't big enough to make Ms Lourdes choose someone. But I can promise you I will do everything in my power to make Ms Lourdes forget the duke."

"So, do we have a deal? The first favor is used to make Ms Lourdes choose me?"

"Yes, we do. But in one condition. If Ms Lourdes falls in love with someone, I will reconsider if a marriage with you will make her happier than a marriage with her love. Be the object of love the duke or anyone else."

"Sounds splendid. Now I have to start thinking about the next thing I want. I have gotten such a hard part," Jisung complained with a teasing tone, making Minho chuckle at him. Minho turned his gaze towards the ground, and he noticed their steps were the same speed. When he was a kid, his friends had said that walking at the same speed with someone meant that you were soulmates. Another rules he remembered were that swinging in a swing at the same speed with someone meant that you had to get married, and if you picked up someone's glove from the ground you had to kiss their cheek. Those times were so simple.

"-ho, Minho! Are you there?" Minho was woken up to someone waving their hand right in front of his face.

"Just got lost in a thought, don't worry. Were you saying something?"

"I was asking you if you wanted to eat some pastries with me? They are really tasty here, apparently the viscount's family has some really old recipes they use."

"Okay, sounds wonderful. Lead the way, marquis." Minho said with a teasing tone in his voice.

”Oh, so you are going to start calling me by my title, too. Alright, we are going this way, servant boy.” Minho couldn’t help but start laughing at Jisung’s response, which also made Jisung laugh.

”Ouch, servant boy. No one has ever called me something even close as low as that.” Minho hit Jisung softly after finishing speaking. Jisung did not say anything, he just cackled loudly.

After walking for a while, Jisung spoke again. ”You weren't really offended by that servant boy thing, right,” he asked carefully, as if to not break the atmosphere around them.

”Hey, of course not. I have never been ashamed to be a servant. If you would have called me a lord or a sir, I really would have probably been more offended. I thought ”servant boy” was quite sweet,” Minho said with a small smile, making Jisung look straight at him. Maybe it was just imagination or lighting, but Minho could see something pink flashing on Jisung’s cheek for a very short moment.

Minho hadn't even noticed they had reached the table with all of the tasty-looking pastries, too distracted by Jisung to notice his surroundings. “Wow, those look really good. Shall we find out if they taste as good as they look?” Minho said, looking at Jisung with expectation in his eyes.

“Yes, we shall. I didn’t know I had such a precise foodcritic with me here,” Jisung responded with a teasing tone, looking back at Minho with a smile on his face. His eyes were shining once again, and Minho surely hoped they would never stop shining. It was such a beautiful sight, the other looked like he was glowing.

“Remember I am from France, which is a country known for its pastries, so I think it’s only appropriate for me to have high standards in this field, don’t you think?” As Minho looked over the pastries, his eyes immediately got glued to a raspberry tart. It reminded Minho of his childhood, where his late mother and him had loved to bake once each month. It had been one of his happiest moments in every single month, a moment both he and his mother had impatiently waited for every month.

“Of course then you have the right to be critical, Mr Servant Boy. Have you already decided which one you’ll pick?” Jisung asked. At the same time he started to reach for his money.

“Yes, I’ll pick the raspberry tart. You know you don’t have to pay for my party too, Mr Marquis. I have enough money to buy it,” Minho tried to tell Jisung, but Jisung only half-acknowledged his words before walking to the stand. Minho had barely time to reach before Jisung had already said his order, including both his and Minho’s pastries, and paid for them.

Jisung returned shortly after with two pastries in his hand, one raspberry tart and one – rich puff pastry? “You are very stubborn, aren’t you, marquis? And you have to be kidding me. Out of all those options you chose rich puff pastry?” Minho asked, raising a hand on his chest as he played to be stunned.

“What are you talking about? Puff pastries are the best thing on the entire planet, the supporting force of my life, my soulma-.”

“Okay okay, I get it. Man with no taste. I have to tell Ms Lourdes right away that the marquis is a horrible man she can absolutely not marry,” Minho interrupted Jisung, and jokingly turned away to leave, but turned right back to Jisung with a smile on his face. In response he got a matching one from Jisung.

“You lived in France with the count and Ms Lourdes?” Jisung asked after a while of the two just being quiet.

“Yes? I have worked for them for as long as I can remember.” Minho looked at Jisung with curious eyes. He didn’t understand why Jisung was asking him this.

“It is quite weird they took you with them when they moved back here, isn't it?” Jisung asked again. He looked at Minho deeply, as if he was trying to understand something about him, something no one else could understand. It made a shiver run down Minho’s spine.

“I guess it isn’t ordinary, but like I said I have worked for them as long as I can remember. I also helped Ms Lourdes to study when she was a child. She was a quite wild one, never too keen on staying inside to focus on her books. I helped her to learn all those things she now knows, when the teachers she had weren’t enough to keep all of her studies in her mind.”

“You are quite close to them, both the count and Ms Lourdes. It’s an adorable sight, really.” Minho felt his ears burning from Jisung’s comment. He wasn’t sure why, but there was always something about the young marquis’ words that made Minho’s stomach ache and blood gush in his veins.

Just then Minho noticed Jisung hadn’t yet finished his pastry. Instead of responding to Jisung’s earlier comment, he decided to comment on that. "Eat, eat! You have to eat a lot too, Ms Lourdes likes men who look like they take care of themselves. She feels secure, knowing that they will take care of her too."

"I am afraid I also have to start going on hunting trips with the rest of the lords, then. Those trips really make me build muscle."

"Or then you could work as a servant for a month. It really makes you have a good constitution."

"I can believe that." Minho almost missed the way Jisung's eyes traveled through his body. Minho wanted to think that he was judging his body, but there was no judgment in Jisung's eyes. If anything, it was almost amazement. Minho couldn't help the blush rising to his cheeks, which was weird. He didn't know why he was blushing, but it seemed to make Jisung chuckle, which was always a good thing.

They continued to walk for a while, chatting about everything and anything. Minho truly had fun while talking to Jisung, and it was weird. Jisung didn't treat him like a servant, he treated him like a friend. Minho almost thought Jisung saw him as something precious, but he knew that couldn't be the case. Jisung was trying to court Minho's mistress after all, maybe this was only part of his plan, maybe Minho was part of his plan.

Then Jisung abruptly stopped walking, making Minho turn to look at him questioningly. What he saw was Jisung looking around them, checking if anyone was looking at them, and then crouching down to pick up a flower. It had five beautifully white petals, and a warm yellow center. Before Minho had a chance to scold Jisung, Jisung was already giving the flower to Minho. The flower was beautiful. It was something new but also something fragile, something Minho decided to hold with only love and care.

"It's a primrose," was all Jisung said before laying the flower on Minho's hands. Minho was too shocked to say a word, which made Jisung continue. "Primroses symbolize young love. I've always found them quite adorable because of it."

"Do you want me to give it to Ms Lourdes for you?" Minho asked.

"No, I'd like for you to keep it." And before Minho had the chance to project Jisung's words, the other was already leaving him, and going to Ms Lourdes' side. It kind of broke Minho's heart knowing how fast Jisung had left him. But he didn't have too much time to dwell in his heartbreak, because he was more focused on his confusion.

Why did you, Han Jisung, give me a symbol of young love?

—

"Come here, you little devil!" My stepfather shouted.
"You will never catch me, old man," I responded while running away from him. We were running around the Holly Hall, my stepfather’s manior. The residence was big and beautiful and very decorated, but what I really cared about was the beautiful garden. It was well taken care of, and it was a lovely place. It had many flowers, and all of the flowers were red. Most of the trees were hollies or montpellier maples. The best part was absolutely the swing my stepfather had made for me.

"Gotcha," my stepfather said when he reached me, and raised me to the closest armchair, starting to tickle my sides. I kept squirming and laughing, while trying to get the man's hands off of me.

"Okay boys, let's calm down," a warm sound was heard from the door. Immediately my stepfather and I stopped our game, and turned to look towards my mother, who was leaning against the doorframe. Her stomach was very big, the same way it had been right before she had been covered in crimson red blood. It often scared me, thinking she would end up like that again, but my stepfather had promised nothing like that would happen.

"Hi, darling," my stepfather said before standing up and going to kiss Mrs Dambi, my mother. He then put his palms against her stomach, and crouched down to be able to kiss the stomach too. I felt myself smiling, I was so happy. My gaze got glued to the ring on my stepfather’s finger, and then it traveled to the one on my mother’s finger. My mother had said it was proof of love, and I believed it. I always believed her.

I got up from the armchair, and ran towards my mother and stepfather. When I reached them, I opened my arms and put them around my mother's stomach, hugging her tightly. I could feel her mother crouching down, and hugging both me and my stepfather back.

There we sat, in each others' arms in our living room of the Holly Hall. It was a beautiful moment, and I wanted it to never end.

"Little devil?" My stepfather asked after a while, and I hummed and turned to look at the man.
"This little baby in your mother’s stomach is going to have a very different life from yours. They don't have to live behind closed doors like you. The whole world will know of their existence. They will be known as our child. Their life will be a lot different from yours. But you have to know that it doesn't mean we love you any less than we will love our new baby. We are only doing this to protect you, and your mother, and our family. But behind closed doors nothing will change, we'll always be a family. Do you believe me?"
"We’ll always be a family," I responded with a proud smile on my face while looking up at my stepfather. I always believed him too.

—

Jisung had invited Ms Lourdes and Mr Vernier to the Han mansion for dinner. He had told them to bring Minho too, which was why he was now sitting in their carriage, once again.

Minho couldn't help but let his thoughts thrift to Jisung. He hadn't seen the other man ever since the incident in the viscount's garden. He hadn't been able to ask why he had gotten the primrose. He didn't understand. He had even asked if Ms Lourdes had gotten one, but she hadn't. Why was Jisung this confusing? Minho felt truly annoyed by the other's actions, and by the confusion he caused Minho. Nonetheless, Minho had still dried the flower, and now it was in the same unused drawer with the old darning needle.

When they reached the Han mansion, named the Oakside, Minho couldn't help but feel nervous. Why did Jisung want him here? Had he done something wrong or bad? Had he broken their deal? Okay, it couldn't be that, as he had spent the last five days since the garden party trying to make the marquis seem like the best man on the earth. It was actually quite easy, when the other opponent, also known as the duke Colwick, was a douchebag. The only bad thing for Jisung was that his title was lower than the duke's. But still, Jisung seemed to be like the best man, the best fiance, the best husband and the best possible father on the whole planet.

"Welcome to Oakside, Ms Lourdes, Mr Vernier, Mr Minho. We are so happy to have you here with us," a woman said. She was truly a gorgeous woman, with thick brown locks and deep black eyes. If Minho guessed correctly, she was the current marchioness, Jisung's mother, Lady Maud Han.

Behind her stood a breathtakingly good-looking man, and suddenly Minho had no reason to doubt why Jisung looked so flawless. The man, Mr Anthony Han, stood proud and tall behind her wife. He looked like he was ready to protect her, no matter what. Minho really wanted Ms Lourdes to find someone like that in her life too.

The Han household was quite weird, or more extraordinary. The family of Han hadn’t got a boy as their heir, so the title had been passed down to a woman, who had held it well. The woman was Jisung’s mother, Mrs Maud Han. She had married a good man from high society, who had taken her last name to be able to continue the family line of Han. All of it was very weird and unheard-of, but they had made it work. And from the moment they had been blessed with a boy, he had got the title of marquis. And that boy, now a man, was Jisung. At least that was how Mr Vernier had explained the whole thing to Minho.

Beside his parents stood Jisung, looking the same as he did five days ago. He was wearing a different waistcoat and suit jacket, but the difference wasn't noticeable enough for one to see it if they hadn't paid attention. Even the gloves in Jisung's hands were the same, and Minho wondered if Jisung ever took them off. Minho also wondered why Jisung wore them in the first place.

"Ms Lourdes, I am glad that you accepted my invite," Jisung said gracefully before bowing down to kiss Ms Lourdes' hand. Minho unconsciously turned his head away, because the action made his heart hurt, and he didn't even understand why. He had no reason to.

"Thank you for your invite, my lord. I am truly grateful for it." Mr Vernier also said his thank you after Ms Lourdes. Minho didn't say anything, he wasn't sure if anyone wanted him to say anything. Everyone almost seemed to have forgotten about him. Everyone except for Jisung, whose eyes hadn't left his form once. Minho was too much of a coward to meet his gaze.

When Mr and Mrs Han asked Ms Lourdes and Mr Vernier to follow them to the dining hall, Minho turned to another direction where he had seen another servant. He was going to ask them where the kitchen was, or any place that needed him. He would have done that, if a hand on his wrist hadn't been there to stop him.

"Where do you think you are going?" Jisung asked him. His eyes were piercing, but still warm when they looked at Minho. This time Minho was too scared to turn his gaze to the other direction. He felt terrified that Jisung would never lay his eyes on him that way again. It felt too good to be looked like that.

"To the kitchen. I doubt you want me to dine with you. I was surprised that Mrs Han even welcomed me, or remembered my name." Minho felt bored as he explained this to Jisung. He knew Jisung didn’t mind him being a servant, but that didn’t mean his whole family thought the same. Servants didn’t eat with their misters and mistresses, they didn’t sleep in the same quarters, they usually weren’t even friends, and never anything more. It was one of the most basic rules.

"I invited you here, because I wanted to have you here. Of course I want you to dine with us, and I am convinced my parents have nothing against you being here with us."

"I am not part of this circle, Jisung. I do not belong here. I do not belong to this mansion or to this group of people. I am not like you, Jisung. I am not a lord. I am just a servant. I am not ashamed of it but that doesn’t mean I can change the basic rules of this society."

"Do you- Do you not want to be here?" Jisung's voice was weak, which broke Minho's heart just a tiny bit.

"I- Honest answer, no I do not wish to be here. I don't fancy being in front of a big crew, much less being part of that big crew myself. But that doesn't mean I didn't want to come here. I wanted to see you again, and if I have to go through one horrible dinner for it, I'd gladly do so. But I still don’t think it’s appropriate for me to join you.” Minho turned his eyes towards the ground as he spoke. Jisung, however, didn’t seem to like Minho’s action one bit. He softly took Minho’s chin in his palm, and turned his head towards Jisung again. Something in the action made Minho’s stomach ache – in a strangely good way. He also momentarily forgot how to breathe, almost like Jisung would be blocking all of his airways by the simplest touch.

When Jisung’s warm eyes met Minho’s, Minho felt like Jisung was everywhere. Jisung’s touch seemed to travel through Minho’s spine, making his whole body feel like it was engulfed by Jisung. The smell of Oakside mixed with Jisung’s one was conquering Minho, and he was sure each time he would smell that combination again, his mind would travel back to this incident, making his heart start beating faster, and his blood rushing to his head, painting him red.

“I am sorry, Minho. If I knew about your discomfort in these types of parties, I wouldn’t have invited you. I just really wished to see you. Minho – since the day I met you nothing has been the same, nothing feels like anything if I am not around you. I am sorry for being selfish and inviting you here for my pleasure.”

“Jisung, what are you even saying? That makes no sense. I am here only because I have promised to make Ms Lourdes your spouse, and for nothing else. I can’t be here for anything other than that.”

“But you are, you are here because you are a selfless soul, who only wants to help. You are here for me, because I was not selfless, I helped you for my own good. I knew immediately when I saw you what I wanted, what my two wishes would be. But before I tell you the second one, I have to tell you something about me. I-” but before Jisung got the chance to finish, they were interrupted by Jisung’s father, Mr Han.

“Alright boys, it’s time for the banquet. Jisung, you have a wonderful lady in your refectory, who is excitedly waiting to spend the evening with you. It’s very disrespectful to not eat with her. And Mr Minho, come with us. Ladies do not like lanky boys like you, they wish their husbands to be powerful and strong, so they think we can protect them. You are far too petite to have anyone interested in you. So, come eat. And maybe you could also join Jisung and his good acquaintances, Chan and Changbin, on a hunting trip. I am sure that would make your build a bit larger.”

“Father, Chan and Changbin are my friends. And I do not think you have to change, Minho. Not everyone is the same,” Jisung put in, and then started to walk towards the refectory with his fingers still around Minho’s wrist. The grip was tight enough for Minho to get bruises, which made Minho feel way too good for some unknown reason.

When they reached the dining hall, Minho saw Mr Vernier sending him a worried look, asking if he was alright. Minho responded with a small smile and nod. He then sat down at the place Jisung directed him to, which happened to be on the exact opposite side of Mr Han, and right next to Jisung. Ms Lourdes was sitting on Jisung's other side, and Minho could almost see how her world lit up when Jisung sat next to her. Minho didn’t focus on the way Jisung crouched down to whisper something in Ms Lourdes’ ear, making the young and beautiful girl giggle softly. Minho’s focus was solemnly in the way Jisung had reacted to his father’s words. It was almost like he hated the idea of Minho having a lady by his side, and even more hating the idea that there was a lady by Jisung’s own side. Minho had never truly thought about marriage, or he had, but not his own marriage. He had never met a woman who he would have wanted to be the mother of his children, the person he loved more than he loved life. From there Minho’s thoughts drifted to the moment he shared with Jisung before Mr Han appeared. What would have happened if he hadn’t shown up? What had Jisung wanted to tell him?

The banquet was boring, just like always. Mr and Mrs Han asked questions directed to Ms Lourdes and Mr Vernier. Jisung would occasionally bend towards Ms Lourdes to say something directed to her only, otherwise he was into the conversation. He seemed so – perfect. But instead of the feeling of jealousy he only felt admiration, and the same stomach ache as at the hallway earlier today. It felt like someone was tickling his stomach from the inside. The feeling was similar to what he had felt when tons of butterflies had landed on his arms, and the wings had touched his skin, making it tickle. Maybe he had a ton of butterflies in his stomach, but he still didn’t understand where that feeling came from. He wasn’t sick, because he wasn't feeling ill. He only felt the feeling when his eyes met Jisung’s, or when Jisung’s smell traveled to his nose.

Not once during the dinner did they get a chance to finish their conversation from earlier. Or Minho would have had the time, because no one else apart from Jisung and Mr Vernier even seemed to remember his existence. Throughout the whole banquet Minho just moved the food on his plate, playing with it with his fork, and ate some bites of it. When everyone else had finished the meal, Minho hadn’t even half of it, but the waitresses collected his plate too. Minho could feel Jisung’s eyes burning holes to his forehead sometimes during the dinner, during those times when he wasn’t busy conversing with everyone else.

When they left the Oakside, the marchioness hugged Mr Vernier deeply, and even Mr Han shaked his hand. The three adults seemed to really like each other’s company. Minho had tried to not look at Jisung and Ms Lourdes, because for some reason it hurt his heart. He still happened to see the way Jisung bowed, and kissed Ms Lourdes’ knuckles, and the way Ms Lourdes looked at the boy in front of her like he was hanging from the stars. However, Jisung’s eyes didn’t shine, they had the same glimpse of compulsion in them as always. Jisung’s eyes only started to shine when he turned to look at Minho, and smiled comfortingly. It was a sweet smile, and the ton of butterflies reappeared on Minho's stomach.

On their way home Minho couldn’t even see the passing houses, it was too dark. He could only see the beautiful oil lamps and candles shining in the darkness, making everything luminous and magical. Even Mr Vernier’s hand on his shoulder seemed magical, so comforting and warm. The only not magical thing about the night was Ms Lourdes’ ramble about Jisung’s good sides. The thing annoying Minho the most was how Ms Lourdes didn’t even use Jisung’s real name, she only called him the marquis, like he was some object. Jisung wasn’t just an object, he was so much more. Minho knew it, he just couldn’t name all of the things the other was, he couldn’t even name what he was to Minho himself. He only knew the other male mattered a lot to him, maybe even too much.

—

I hadn’t really been lonely ever before. I always had my family: my mother, my deceased father, and later my stepfather. Now I really had no one. I knew my mother, the Countess or my stepfather, the Count, would never break their promise, they would never stop loving me, and seeing me as their son. And I would never stop loving them either. I would never hate them. I couldn’t even hate my little sister.

But no matter what I knew, it didn’t take away the fact that I was lonely. I had a room in the servants’ quarters in Holly Hall. I no longer slept in the huge bed in the beautiful room next to my stepfather’s and mother’s room. I no longer ran around with my stepfather in Holly Hall, I wasn’t even allowed to eat with them. I could only see them if I was told to clean a room where even one of my family members was sitting. After my little sister had just been born my stepfather and mother would often come down to the servants’ quarters to tell me good night. When I had grown older, when my little sister had grown older the visits had become even rarer, until they had just stopped.

And even when I had promised to never stop loving my family, I was worried my family was starting to forget me. Maybe that’s why I found the world of books. I opened doors to totally new worlds no one except for me could touch. I was my own lord, and I wasn’t lonely. No matter what happened in the real world, I wouldn’t care. I had something much greater in me now.

I didn’t even care when I spent my childhood cleaning my little sister’s messes, or my pre-teen years looking after the girl five years younger than me, or my teen years teaching my little sister good manners and beautiful language, or my 18th birthday stitching my little sister’s knee after she thought jumping to a horse’s back without it knowing was a good idea. I didn’t care, not anymore.

For a long time that technique actually worked, but then something happened that I couldn’t not care about… My mother got ill.

—

Minho was looking at himself through the foggy mirror in his room. Even in the Vernier’s new residence in London he lived in the servants’ quarters, this time he had just gotten his own room. He didn’t have to share his life with anyone, which was oddly calming but also lonely. Minho liked being alone, he had always loved it. But now he had lived so alone for so long he was starting to yearn for someone he could share his life with. He wanted a loved one, someone who could listen to his pains and delights. Minho wasn’t sure why his thoughts started to drift to the young marquis, but he stopped them before they even had a chance to form properly. It could never happen, it was simply impossible. It was unheard-of in their society. And Jisung was courting his mistress. Even if it was possible, Minho didn’t know if Jisung could ever want him like that.

He was so deep in thought his heart jumped to his throat as he heard someone knock on his window. He turned to look at the source of the sound with an expression that reflected pure terror. The terror quickly turned to confusion, which turned to those same butterflies. On the other side of the window was Jisung. Jisung had come to visit him. Minho rushed to the window, opening it to the boy waiting for him. “Hi,” was the only thing Jisung said before rushing in. Minho could feel how freezing the air was, the autumn was truly coming. He quickly closed the window, and then turned to look at the boy in front of him.

Jisung was wearing a worn-out jacket that looked like it had ripped from the bottom. Underneath it Jisung only had a white undershirt, and black trousers, which were not as formal as the ones Minho had usually seen Jisung in. He was still wearing the same black gloves he always did. Jisung looked very different to his usual appearance, his hair was a mess on top of his head, his stubble had grown out, his clothes were what they were. The only thing that was the same were the gloves in Jisung’s hands. Minho hadn’t yet seen him take them off. It had been only four days since they last met. What had happened to Jisung to become so – improper-looking in such a short time?

“What are you- Is everything alright?” Minho asked silently, breaking the deafening silence around them.

"Yes, better than ever. I just wanted to visit you." Something in Jisung's voice was too cheery, too happy. It made Minho feel alert, because Jisung had always seemed like an open book to him. Right now he was the exact opposite, Minho couldn't read him at all.

"How did you know where my room was? And how did you climb up here? Did you hurt yourself?"

"Mr Vernier invited me here for breakfast tomorrow morning. I decided to stay in the visitor’s quarters here for this night to avoid the long journey I’d have to travel to get here. And your window is right above the rooftop of the porch, I just climbed up using it. And no, I am not hurt, maybe a bit cold, but fine otherwise."

"Oh, well… There is a fireplace in the library. We could go there to warm you up. Oh, let me give you a blanket? Do you have any other clothes?"

"As you can see, I am not carrying anything with me. I have my stuff two stories above, but I don't think it's a good idea to go there."

Minho only nodded in response, and took his own blanket off his bed, giving it to Jisung. Jisung looked a bit conflicted before wrapping the blanket around himself. He seemed to be content with it. Minho then moved to his shelf, looking for dry clothes Jisung could wear.

"These are not the same type of clothes you are used to wearing, but I think you will manage without the finest cotton in town for a few minutes, your grace." Minho gave Jisung a pair of trousers, the best ones he owned, that most likely fitted him. It was good that the two were quite the same height. Jisung seemed to be a bit broader by his shoulders and a bit more muscular through his whole body than Minho, which made the butterflies return to Minho’s stomach once again. On top of the trousers Minho gave a white button-up, which seemed probably more of an undershirt than a button-up to someone like Jisung, but Minho didn’t really care, or at least he said that to himself. It was Jisung’s own idea to get into Minho’s room without spare clothing in the first place.

"Do you want me to turn around while you change? Privacy, and all, right?" Minho's voice trembled slightly as he spoke, and he didn't quite understand why. Something in the idea of Jisung undressing himself made blood rush to Minho's ears. Jisung for sure was ruining Minho on some type of level. And for once again, Minho didn’t mind at all. He liked the feelings Jisung gave him.

"You don't have to, unless you want to." Jisung sounded smug, which made the butterflies fly even faster than before.

For some reason Minho didn't turn around immediately. He let himself stare as Jisung lifted the wet shirt on top of his head, revealing the well-defined muscles along his arms, his chest and his stomach. Minho felt like he was on fire. Everything was so hot all of the sudden. Minho quickly turned around to stare at the wall in front of him before Jisung had the chance to reveal any more of himself.

They didn't say anything, but Minho could almost hear the proud look on Jisung's face. Apart from it only the sound of clothes hitting the floor, and touching skin were heard. "You can turn around now," Jisung said after a while. Minho turned around, finding a dry and dressed Jisung buttoning his shirt. The gloves hadn’t left Jisung’s hands. By now Minho was sure Jisung never took them off.

"I'll show you where the library is. Follow me, marquis.”

The two walked down the dark hallway. Minho usually found it a bit scary to walk alone, but this time he wasn't scared. He had Jisung, who was holding his other clothed hand on Minho's back softly. It was an oddly calming feeling having Jisung touch him. In some part of Minho’s mind he never wanted for Jisung to never let go, but the logical part of his brain knew it wasn’t possible. Jisung had to let go of Minho at some point. And Minho soon had to do the same to Jisung, they couldn’t continue this.

Minho was carrying a lantern, giving the pair an ability to see anything in the dark hallway. The hallway was covered in paintings of the counts of the Vernier household with their families. Some of the paintings were warmer than the others, telling which one of marriages had been love matches and which one hadn’t been. The last painting was a picture of the current count, Mr Vernier, his late wife, Lady Dambi, and their child, Ms Lourdes, who was just a small child in the painting. In the background of them there was a holly, where a swing was hanging. It made Minho smile softly.

They had been quiet the whole way, Jisung looking at the paintings with pure interest in his eyes. When the two reached the library doors, Minho pushed the doors open, and held them open for Jisung, who bowed theatrically before walking in, making Minho snort. Minho directed Jisung to the couches in front of the fireplace, and made him sit. While Jisung was putting the blanket more comfortably on him, Minho started to light up the fire. He had spent so many nights in front of this very same fireplace reading that lighting it up came naturally, and in just a few minutes the fire was already burning on its full power.

"You didn't have to do any of this. Do you know that?” Jisung said as Minho sat next to him on the couch, finally breaking the comfortable silence around them.

"I do know that. It would have just been very unpleasant for you to become ill just before your breakfast with Ms Lourdes. It's my job to make her choose you instead of anyone else, after all,” Minho responded, staring at the fire. He couldn’t make himself say that he wanted to do this, that he wanted to help Jisung, and wanted to spend time with him.

"Umm," Jisung hummed. It was uncharacteristically for Jisung to respond with so little. The other man usually used a lot of words that made Minho melt for some reason. Right now he wasn't saying anything, almost like the topic bothered him somehow.

"You like books, right? You said so once. Could you show me your favorite book, please?" Jisung asked after a while of quietness. Minho could almost feel his whole presence lighting up at that question. He didn't know a lot of people who were as fascinated by books as he was, which led to him not being able to talk about them a lot.

"It's a hard question, as there are so many good books. Okay, come with me, please," Minho said before jumping up from the couch, and walking in between the shelves.

It didn't take long before he found the book he was looking for. It had a green cover with purple branches on it, and the name of the book read on it with big, yellow letters that were set on the cover diagonally. Minho turned to look behind him to see if Jisung was there, and he almost flinched when he saw how close the other man was. He was still too focused on the books to properly focus on Jisung's presence, which is why he started to explain about the book.

"This was actually published quite recently, but I really liked it, even when I have heard others criticize it greatly. The novel is called Wuthering Heights, and it's actually located in Yorkshire. It tells a heartbreaking but fervent love story of childhood friends, Heathcliff and Catherine, who are on very different levels in society. If you ever end up reading the book, I am going to make you fall in love with Edgar Linton. He is a bit similar to Mr Bingley in Pride and Prejudice, just as caring and loving when it comes to his wife and daughter. He is a bit terrified of his wife, to be totally honest."

"Sounds great, I have always wanted to be afraid of my spouse," Jisung chuckled, making Minho smile too. He then took Jisung’s hand in his, and started to lead the other man towards the end of the shelf, where he knew all of the novels by one author were. He almost stopped walking when he realized what he had done, he had taken Jisung's hand in his hand. The butterflies returned to his stomach again, which seemed to be an obligatory thing by now. Each time he and Jisung were in each other’s presence, the butterflies were also there.

Before he started to regret his actions, he reached the end of the shelf, and started to talk about the books there.

"Here are all of Jane Austen's books, they are very good, and I have enjoyed them all: Sense and Sensibility, Pride and Prejudice, Mansfield Park, Emma, Persuasion and Lady Susan. From what I have read, Pride and Prejudice and Mansfield Park are my favorites. Pride and Prejudice tells a love story of arrogant Mr Darcy and prejudiced Ms Elizabeth Bennet. Mansfield Park tells a story of a poor girl that grows away from her family in her aunt's husband's mansion, Mansfield park. There Fanny Price, the girl, meets Edmund, who she grows up with. As time passes new characters are introduced, and then character number one falls for the number two, number second has their eyes on someone else, and the number three wants number one. Apart from Northanger Abbey, The Watsons and Sanditon, I have read all of her books, and I am planning on reading them all."

Minho knew his eyes were shining. He knew his voice sounded too excited. He knew his whole presence appeared childish, but for some reason Jisung didn't seem to mind. He almost seemed fond. The way Jisung's eyes met his ones made Minho turn his head away quickly. He felt a layer of red decorating his cheeks and ears afterwards, which led to him continuing walking before Jisung even had a chance to comment. This time he was too much of a coward to take Jisung's hand, but it also seemed to be the only thing he desired to do. The previous contact of Jisung's hand overpowered his thoughts so greatly that he even led him and Jisung to the wrong bookshelf – and it happened three times.

When they finally reached the shelf covered in folk tales, myths and children's books and fairytales, he immediately started to look for one specific book. It had a dark blue cover with a painting of a woman as pale as snow and as cold as ice, and the rest of the space around the painting was covered in white dots, snowflakes. When Minho's fingertips finally met the back of the book, he didn't doubt even for a second before pulling the book from the shelf, and showing it to Jisung.

"I also really love H. C. Andersen's tales, but The Snow Queen is my absolute favorite. Everything starts with a mirror that brings misfortune to everyone else other than the user of it. However, the mirror breaks, and its pieces travel around the land. The pieces get stuck in people's hearts and freeze them. The novel focuses on two kids, Kai and Gerda. Kai gets these pieces of the mirror stuck in his eyes and his heart, which changes his characteristics totally. For example, the only thing he thinks are pretty are snowflakes. At some point the magical Snow Queen finds Kai, and kisses him twice, which makes him forget his life before the kisses. Kai leaves with the Snow Queen, and Gerda starts to look for him. In the end Gerda saves Kai, and everything ends up well."

"My mother actually read the story of the Little Mermaid by H. C. Andersen to me when I was younger. It left a deep mark in me, through my whole childhood I always wanted to save someone, and find my spouse like that." Jisung seemed a bit bothered by the topic, but the memory itself seemed to make him happy, so Minho smiled in response.

"I am convinced you have a lot of people who you could save right now: Ms Lourdes, the viscount’s oldest daughter, spinster Ms Adiga and her sister, and probably every one of the young ladies looking for marriage this season. I am sure everyone would love to be saved by you, Jisung."

"It's unpleasant for them that I only have one person who I'd like to save, and they were none of the ones you said." Jisung didn't say who the person was, and Minho was too scared to ask. He was also quite sure Jisung wouldn't answer, the other seemed to be as scared of the response as Minho.

Before the library could get too quiet, before the longing look Jisung and Minho shared could become too long, before the butterflies in Minho's stomach could reappear with greater amount that ever, before Minho's hands could start sweating too much to not be able to keep the books in his hands, he switched the topic.

"I- umm, and I think the last one of my favorites is Percy Bysshe Shelley's poem called Love's philosophy. I am not totally sure where it is, but I'd like to read it with you," he said quickly before turning away from Jisung, and starting to go through the shelf that was supposed to have all the poems in it.

"Can you remember the start of the poem, so I know what I am looking for?" Jisung asked, walking to the opposite end of the shelf, and starting to go through the books.

"The fountains mingle with the river, and the rivers with the ocean. The winds of heaven mix forever with a sweet emotion. That is the start. The cover is dark forest green, and the book is quite thin. It has other poems by P. B. Shelley in it too, but everything starts with Love's Philosophy. "

For a moment it was quiet, both of them going through the shelf. Minho would be lying if he said his gaze didn't drift to Jisung from time to time, checking how the other was doing. Jisung seemed to take each even remotely close to a green book from the shelf, and go through it – very slowly. It was actually quite adorable to Minho, because no matter how small amount of reading Jisung did, or how little time he spent with books, he still tried his best.

"I think I found it," Jisung said after a while, surprising Minho. Minho quickly rushed to his side, checking if the book was correct, and it was. The two were now standing between two high bookshelves, Minho having his back against the other one of them, while Jisung was standing right before him. Jisung then opened the book, and took a deep breath before starting to read the poem out loud.

"The fountains mingle with the river
And the rivers with the ocean,
The winds of heaven mix forever
With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single;
All things by a law divine
In one spirit meet and mingle.
Why not I with thine?—." Minho couldn't help himself from starting to say the poem aloud too, now declaiming it together with Jisung. Even when the words were something borrowed, they were also something so, so real. The way their voices matched together flawlessly made Minho's knees go wobbly, but luckily Jisung didn't seem to notice that.

"See the mountains kiss high heaven
And the waves clasp one another;
No sister-flower would be forgiven
If it disdained its brother;
And the sunlight clasps the earth
And the moonbeams kiss the sea:
What is all this sweet work worth
If thou kiss not me?" When they finished, both of them turned to look at each other. There seemed to be something heavy in Jisung's eyes. Minho would have asked if everything was alright, but Jisung's eyes didn't seem to shine because of something bad. No, they seemed to shine because of something good, something that made him feel good. The words were only something borrowed but also something extremely precious.

For a while that was way too long Minho and Jisung just stared at each other. The way their gazes locked made everything fall into their right places. Minho took two steps closer to Jisung, now standing right in front of him, leaving almost no space between them. The way their bodies started to blend together made the air around them grow pink and yellow, warm and lovely. Minho felt himself raise his hand on Jisung's cheek, and he saw how Jisung leaned on the touch, all while the space around them was way too quiet. One sound exceeded the silence around them, and painted both of their cheeks in red – the sound was rapid heartbeats, their hearts beating at the exact same speed.

Minho could see how Jisung's eyes dropped to his lips, which made him look at the other man's lips in response. He most likely also licked his own lips, but his attention wasn’t focused on the things happening around them or to him anymore, it was solemnly directed to the beautiful being right in front of him.

Minho couldn't recall who was the person actually closing the small gap between their lips, but he knew that decision led to the best minutes of his life.

Jisung's lips were soft as they were against his. Jisung tasted like summer rain and fresh oranges, the weirdest combination but way too good when the source of it was Jisung. Jisung placed his other hand on Minho's cheek, holding him like he was precious. His other hand went to rest on Minho's waist, and the contact made Minho feel at ease, and maybe that was why he felt brave enough to put his arms around Jisung's neck. Jisung’s hair was soft against the tips of his fingers. It felt so good to be this close to Jisung.

The moment was beautiful and magical while it lasted, but when it ended, it was the total opposite. Minho felt guilt and horror flaming in his guts, making him want to throw up. The space around them seemed to grow smaller, making Minho feel like he was drowning. He had to get out before he would drown. He had never known how to swim, and if he stayed for much longer, he would die.

“Jisung – we can’t, we shouldn’t,” was all Minho said before escaping Jisung’s touch, and turning away from Jisung.

Minho ran. He didn't know where, he couldn't focus on that. He just knew he ran, ran out of the library, out of the whole manoir. He could feel cold air freezing him, slowing his breathing and pulse. But he continued running until his legs gave up underneath his weight, making him fall against the ice cold ground. The feeling felt similar to a memory of Minho’s. In the memory he ran in the ice cold weather. Only that in the memory he wanted for people to find him, and save him. Only that this time he didn’t want to be found or saved.

The last thing he saw before he let the darkness capture him was how he once again saw a black figure getting closer to him. He wondered if the figure would save him like he had all those years before.

—

My mother was looking so sick when my mister, or well my stepfather, finally let me see her. If the doctors would have been sure that she would still live after this disease passed, my mister wouldn't have probably let me see her at all, it would have raised too many suspicions. But now, my mother was already almost dead, I could see it. It would have been too monstrous to not let semee her before she passed.

"My- my boy, my little miracle boy" my mother said as soon as I entered her room, like she had been waiting for me.

"Hey, mom. How are you feeling?" I asked as I walked to his mother's side, and sat down to the chair next to her bed. It seemed so weird to be this close to her once again. It had been so, so long.

"Oh, my boy, my little baby. When did you become this big?" my mother asked, ignoring my question. She then tried to raise her other hand on my cheek, but the action seemed so rough and hard for her that I grabbed her hand and put it in between my own hands instead.

"I don't know, mom. It has been a while we have talked, hasn't it?” My mother looked straight into my eyes, and I could feel tears building up in my own ones. I could almost see the death on my mother's face, and I was so not ready to say goodbye.

"It has, and I am so sorry for it. But still, somehow you have grown up to be such a beautiful human being. Oh, my little boy, you are so smart, and proper and do even look so, so handsome. I am so incredibly proud of you." I was now crying. I couldn't help it. After fearing the past 15 years my mother had forgotten about me and was disappointed at me, I finally heard the words I was dying to know.

"Oh, don't cry my bo-" but my mother’s speaking was interrupted by a loud coughing fit. She seemed like she couldn't breathe, like by each cough a little pieces of her life were leaving her body, like she would die here tonight in my arms. And I couldn't handle the thought of that.

Before I had a chance to panic more, my mister was already running into the room with a doctor right behind him. The doctor ran straight to my mother’s side while my mister stopped to look at me. The older man smiled softly and formed one sentence with his lips without saying it outloud. Or maybe he did, but my ears were ringing too much for me to hear. But I still understood what he meant.

"Go, little devil."

And I did, and that was the last time I ever saw my mother.

—

There was something wet on his forehead as Minho blinked his eyes open. The first thing he saw was the forest green fabric right above his head, the curtain of the four-poster bed. The room he was in had very dim lighting, only a few candles flaming in the beautiful and massive room. In a beautiful and massive room that very much was not Minho's.

"Minho, are you awake?" a voice from his side asked. When Minho turned his head to look at the source of the voice, his eyes met the tired eyes of Mr Vernier. The man looked like he hadn't gotten any sleep in the past few days, and was only a step away from losing his consciousness.

"Yes." Minho's voice was rough when he spoke. He felt like a knife was stabbed right on his throat, it hurt so much to talk.

"You really can't do things like that anymore, Minho. You scared me to death. Our healer even said that your pulse is slow enough for you to pass away." Minho had never heard Mr Vernier sound so worried, and it made him feel a bit guilty.

Mr Vernier then raised his hand on Minho's forehead to take away the wet towel. Minho felt all of his walls break apart when Mr Vernier lowered his hand back, and started stroking Minho's hair. Minho felt like he could start crying, like his eyes could be swept away with his tears.

The action Mr Vernier calmly repeated over and over again made two memories return to his mind. In the first memory he was kissing someone in the Verniers' library, and in the second he felt a kiss on his ice cold forehead. Before he could stop himself, he had already asked the question he was dying to know.

"Where is Jisung?" Immediately after those words left his mouth, he started regretting them. The pain that showed on Mr Vernier’s face would have made everyone regret all of their words.

Before Mr Vernier responded, he took in a deep breath, as if to prepare for the following battle. The sigh he let out made Minho's insides turn around, and squeeze, making him feel like he would die.

"The marquis has told Lourdes he isn't going to propose to her. He has made the decision in the last few days, because marriage doesn't sound fitting in his life right now. At least that is what he told her two days ago." Minho felt his insides squeezing again. Was it his fault? He had kissed Jisung, did the other man want to get away from him? Had he decided to not marry Ms Lourdes because of Minho? Before his head could drown in those thoughts, his attention was attracted to another thing Mr Vernier said.

"Two days ago? Weren't they going to share breakfast today?"

"They had that breakfast two days ago, you've been asleep for two days, Minho. It's not normal."

"Oh," was all Minho could let out. He felt like his head was about to blow up, like thousands of different questions and answers were running around it, but he couldn't catch any of them. Was it his fault Jisung had not chosen Ms Lourdes? What did Jisung think about him? Did Ms Lourdes know? What did she think about him? What did she think about Jisung? What about him and Jisung? What did he think about them? No. Something good. No. Nothing. Hatred. Disgust. Hopefully something good.

"I know Jisung is lying, Minho," Mr Vernier said, making Minho get out of his head. Minho felt alerted, what had Jisung lied about?

"I know he didn't abandon this marriage because it didn't fit his plans. He abandoned it because he fell in love with someone else," Mr Vernier continued. Minho felt his heart drop to his stomach. Jisung loved someone? And why was all Minho thought about Jisung? Why did that man have to mean more to him than anyone ever before?

"And I know the one who he fell in love with is you, Minho. And I also know that you fell in love with him too." Mr Vernier’s voice sounded sad when he spoke, and Minho didn't understand why. Shouldn't he be angry?

"I do not blame you, Minho. You never did anything wrong. Neither did Jisung. Love is confusing, no one knows how it works."

"Ho- How do you know?" Minho finally got out of his mouth. He felt like he couldn't even speak, every thought in his mind too messy to comprehend. How could Mr Vernier so surely say Jisung loved him? And how could he also so surely say Minho loved Jisung too? Did Minho love Jisung?

"I saw you two at the library. I saw the way he looked at you, and I've probably never seen anyone as fond of the person they are looking at. And I saw how you looked at him. You looked like you could pick up the moon and stars for him, like he was the greatest person in the universe. Around you two smelled like love."

"I loved your mother a lot, Minho. But even the love we shared will never reach the level of yours and Jisung's love. Your worlds seemed to revolve around one another. I don't think I've ever seen love as real."

"Dambi and I always feared that you'd end up without having someone to love. It's partly our fault, we gave you bad cards for life. We made you a servant, while you watched your mother and sister shine at the highest place of the society. I know you hated it. I know you hated us for everything we have done to you. We were terrified you would be too blinded by the hate to ever love anyone."

"You surprised me, son. You surprised me with a heart as big as your mother's, a mind as warm as hers, and a soul as sweet as her whole presence. Even when Lourdes reminds her mother by looks, you have the best part of her, her characteristics."

Minho was now crying. He didn't even understand why he was crying. Maybe it was the kind words, maybe it was the way he missed his mother, maybe it was the way he missed Jisung, or then the way he loved Jisung.

Oh.

Oh.

He loved Jisung. He was in love with Jisung. Well, that's not how he planned for that to go.

"I'm sorry, I am so sorry. I knew how much Lourdes wanted this marriage. I know how much it would have benefited you and her. I am so sorry for ruining everything," Minho said while tears ran down his cheeks.

"No, son. Don't apologize. You didn't ruin anything. Lourdes didn't want this marriage, she wanted a marriage. She wants a title higher than the one I can give her. She wants that, she doesn't want Jisung, not in the way you do. And I didn't want her to have this marriage. I want her to find love, like the one I shared with Dambi, or the one you share with Jisung. You didn't ruin anything, Minho. You saved everything."

It had always bothered Minho how wise Mr Vernier was. The man always knew what to do, what to say, how to act and how to be perfect. Minho had truly envied that trait at some point, because he was nothing like it. But right now he couldn’t be more thankful for Mr Vernier's wisdom. He didn't think anyone could have ever said anything that would have made him feel more like his decisions were rightful, like his feelings weren't wrong.

"Wh- where is Jisung now?" he asked while wiping the teardrops off his face. Mr Vernier looked at him warmly at the question, and Minho felt his cheeks warm up. Oh no, was this what it felt like to be in love?

"Jisung is at his home now. But he was here for the whole first night he brought you here. He didn't dare to leave your side even once, no matter how much the custodians or I tried to make him go to sleep. He sat by your side the whole time, desperately waiting for you to wake up. I am sure he would still be here if he didn't have to go back to his duties." Minho lowered his eyes from Mr Vernier’s ones to hide the darkening red shade on his cheeks. It felt so good to know Jisung cared. Stupidly good, but too good for Minho to care about how stupid it was.

"Wait- when Jisung brought me here? What do you mean?" Minho asked after realizing what Mr Vernier had said.

"You fainted outside, Minho. And Jisung brought you here to stop you from freezing to your death," Mr Vernier explained. And then Minho realized. Those icy lips on his forehead, they were Jisung's. Oh Jisung, that idiot. Why had he followed Minho?

"Ca- can you send a message to Jisung? To tell him I am awake and I would like to meet him? And could I please move back to my own room?"

"Of course I can send a message to him, Minho. Are you sure you want to move back to servants' quarters? You can stay here for as long as you want." Mr Vernier’s gaze was too warm when he looked at Minho.

"It's still my home, the servants' quarters. And I think servant Hyunjin and waiter Felix would be highly angry with me for abandoning them alone there. You asked me to hire some help for us, which concluded me to hiring them. And I've promised to be the one educating them. And thank you, you old man," Minho said, looking downwards to hide his face during the last sentence, feeling the blush covering his cheeks.

"Anything for you, my little devil. I'm sorry I haven't always been there for you. You were my first child after all, even when you weren't my blood." Mr Vernier smiled softly at Minho while speaking, and Minho felt himself smiling softly too.

"Oh, I almost forgot. Jisung asked me to give this to you when you woke up. He would have given it himself if we hadn't made him go home," Mr Vernier said while putting his hand into his pocket. He then raised it back to where Minho could see it, but this time on it was a beautiful and fragile blue bracelet. Minho couldn't help taking the bracelet into his own hands, resting it on his palm as carefully as if it was a flower.

"It's stunning. Did Jisung really want to give this to me?" There was something in the bracelet which seemed to call for Minho, something that seemed to be beauty only for Minho and Jisung. The bracelet made Minho think about Jisung, it reminded him about Jisung. The stones, made out of broken shades of blue, were Jisung's eyes, piercing but incredibly deep, holding such a huge amount of emotions Minho couldn't even imagine. The golden chains in between the stones represented his intelligence, his kindness, his handsome face, his toned body, his perfectness, all of the things that made him whole, the Jisung Minho had fallen in love with. Even the small black dot on one of the blue stones was Jisung. It was his gloves, the ones he never took off.

Minho saw Jisung in the bracelet. And maybe Jisung saw Minho in it too.

"Yes, Minho, it is for you. I'll send the message to Jisung," Mr Vernier responded. And Minho was so incredibly happy about the answer.

The bracelet was only something blue but also something incredibly precious.

—

"Can I come in," a voice of a woman said from the other side of the door leading to my room.

"Of course," I responded, just having finished getting ready for my duties for that day.

Mrs Beswick, the head servant of Holly Hall, walked in. She had a soft look on her face, just like she always had. She looked like a proud and concerned mother. It also fitted her weirdly well.

”I come bearing some news,” she said, still standing just by the door as if not daring to go any farther.

”Yes? What has happened, miss?” I asked, now turning to look straight at the lady.

”Our mister has decided to return to his hometown, London, to get a spouse for his daughter now that she is of age. They will leave right before the season in London starts, which is in two months. He already asked me to join them, after all I’ve been serving them longer than I can even remember. He also asked me to ask you to come with them. And I doubt you have a reason not to leave with us.”

”Of course I’ll go. Is anyone else leaving or just us?”

”No, young Minho. Just us, it’s going to be a new beginning for all of us.”

New beginning. I could surely use one new beginning. And above all in London. It seemed to be far enough to forget all of this which had taken place in Holly Hall.

___

Mr Vernier and some of the servants had taken Minho’s belongings back to Minho’s room later that day. Minho had tried to help them, but all of them had forbidden him to do so, telling him to rest. It was nice, being the one people did things for. Minho loved being independent and capable of doing things on his own. He often even thought very lowly of the lords and ladies for letting servant do everything for them, never learning how to survive on their own in the world. But still, once in a while it was nice to be on the receiving end, not always in the giving one.

He had never realized how much he loved his own room. Surely it wasn’t as fancy as the one he had woken up in, but it was his. He loved how he knew where everything was, how everything was where he had put them, how every single perfection and imperfection was there because of him and him only, not because of someone else.

He was sitting on his windowsill, enjoying the cold air of the outside world. He was already feeling much better than he had when he had woken up. Maybe it was because of the medicaments the doctor had made him take, but he truly didn’t care. He had always liked the cold air, there was something refreshing about it.

He then heard a knock on his door. It was a very careful knock, like the person outside was unsure of their own action. “Come in!” Minho shouted.

The person opening the door was Jisung. Seeing the other made Minho’s breath hitch. Jisung looked a lot more put-together than he did a few nights ago. He was wearing a white undershirt, a black waistcoat and a black jacket. And of course those same black gloves he always did. His hair was styled, and he had shaved his stubble. Even with his otherwise very groomed looks, Minho could see dark circles under his eyes and a few new wrinkles on his forehead. On some part Minho felt a bit guilty, because he was most likely the reason for the other’s stress.

For a moment the two only stared at each other. It felt wonderful to see Jisung after everything. Minho felt like some part of him calmed down when he saw Jisung. He felt like his heart had been unconsciously hurting and yearning for Jisung when the pair had been apart, but now with them together, the hurting stopped.

“How are you?” Jisung asked, breaking the silence. Jisung’s eyes looked worried and tired, but Minho could see them shining in the way they always did with Minho around. And then Minho realized. Maybe the shining was the devotion Jisung had for him. Maybe his eyes didn’t shine like that with anyone else. Maybe they shined only with Minho because – Jisung was attached to Minho.

“I’ve been better, but I am alright.” It was a very light hearted response. The air around them was so troubled. Minho wasn’t sure what he could say, what he could do. But then he realized the person in front of him was Jisung. The Jisung who he had fallen in love with, and who apparently had also fallen in love with him too. They were together now, two people in love. Minho didn’t have to be careful, he had to be honest.

“Come sit,” Minho said before jumping down from the windowsill, and sitting down on his bed. Jisung felt a bit conflicted before he walked to the bed, and sat down on it. He sat next to Minho, but still far enough to leave space between them. Just then Minho could see Jisung’s clothed hands shaking slightly.

“You have no idea how much you scared me the other night, Minho. I- I was so sure I would lose you. You were so cold and lifeless and-”

“But I am here now. I am sorry for scaring you. But everything is alright now, is it not?” Minho interrupter Jisung. He then offered a small smile to the other, who finally turned to look at Minho. When their eyes met, Minho felt the moment they shared in the library returning back to his mind. The way Jisung’s hands had felt on his waist, the way his eyes had looked at him, the way his lips had felt against his own ones. Minho felt blush gushing to his cheeks, but he didn’t care enough to turn away from Jisung. He could see Jisung smiling.

“Yes, you are here now.” They continued to stare at each other for a bit longer, before Minho’s eyes got glued to Jisung’s shaking hands once again. Minho wasn’t sure where he got the courage from, but he reached for Jisung’s hands, taking them into his own ones. The action made the other’s hands shake slightly less, making Minho look at him with warmth in his eyes.

“Are you nervous, marquis?” Minho asked, the tone of his voice teasing. That made Jisung chuckle softly, and then he looked at Minho with a teasing smile.

“I suppose I am. Your company just does that for me,” Jisung said. And truth to be told, Minho hadn’t expected his attempt to fluster Jisung backfire so badly. He felt his cheeks warming up even more than they had before. Minho was sure Jisung could see it because the other lifted his hand on Minho’s cheek, and stroked it softly. Jisung looked at Minho so softly, and Minho was sure his own gaze matched the other’s just as well.

“Minho, can I ask you something?” Jisung asked. He lowered his hand from Minho’s face, and Minho felt himself already missing the touch. It helped a bit that Jisung put his hand back onto Minho's, and started caressing his knuckles softly.

“I already believed you did, marquis. But sure, you can ask me anything.” Minho still kept looking at Jisung even when the other turned his face away to look at their intertwined hands.

”Ms Lourdes is your sister, isn’t she?” Jisung said. Minho freezed at the question, and his expression turned from a fond one toa terrified one.

”How- how did you figure that out?” Minho asked. It had been their family’s most sacred secret. Even Ms Lourdes didn’t know. In the past twenty years he hadn’t heard anyone call Ms Lourdes his sister. It felt oddly relieving.

”I thought it was odd how you and Mr Vernier are so close to one another. It was also weird that he had taken you with them from France to here as a servant. And you and Ms Lourdes look really similar. I think I just connected the dots.”

”And do you remember when I asked what your favorite nickname for yourself was? You told me it was little devil and that your stepfather used to call you that. Well, when I brought you here after you fainted, Mr Vernier ran to you and called you that. It kind of made me realize the whole thing.” Oh. Well, that made sense.

“Jisung, you must never tell this to anyone. It would ruin our whole family’s reputation. Lourdes would never have anyone to marry her, Mr Vernier would be dropped out of the society, I would have nothing. I-”

“You would have me, Minho. I could never leave you. But don’t worry, I will not tell this forward to anyone. It’s a secret between us.” The way Jisung looked at him calmed Minho down. Of course Jisung wouldn’t do that to him, or his family. He was too kind, he had a too big heart to do that.

“Jisung, why did you stop courting Lourdes?” Minho had to ask. He believed he knew the answer, but he just had to be sure. Even if Jisung fell in love with Minho, the two of them could never be together in public. Jisung surely still had to marry someone, he couldn’t stay alone forever. People would start gossiping, and if the truth was ever found out by the public, Jisung’s whole family would be ruined. They had already had so much criticism in their family for Lady Han being the marchioness instead of some man. They for sure couldn’t handle another scandal.

“I couldn’t do it anymore. Ms Lourdes is a wonderful young lady, but I couldn’t keep pretending to be attached to her when I fell in love with someone else. Each time I even had to look at her was painful, because I only wanted to look at you. I couldn’t do it to myself, but I also didn’t want to do that to her. She deserves a marriage where her husband can even try to learn to love her. I know most of the marriages aren’t love matches, but at least most of the time the couples learn to love small parts of each other during the years they are together. But I could not even offer her that, not when my heart belongs to another. I couldn’t offer her love, a proper marriage or even a family, because I can’t make myself want her like that. We would be both trapped in our misery. And I couldn’t live a life without you in it. I can’t leave you.” Jisung spoke his words with such certainty Minho almost felt bad. But he didn’t, he only felt loved.

“Jisung, you know we can never be public. What are you going to do? Are you just never going to marry? People will talk, you know that. You could be ruined because of this. Nobody cares what happens to me, but you have everyone in these circles looking at you, expecting for you to find a wife. What are you planning on doing about that?”

“I- I don’t know. I just know I can’t marry a woman. I can’t do that to them. Their life would be miserable till they die!” Jisung then took his hands from Minho's and laid his head on them. He looked so stressed, so devastated. Minho felt the pain Jisung was feeling in his own body too. It pained to see the other so broken.

Minho then put his hand on Jisung’s back, and started to stoke it. “Hey, we do not have to worry about it now, do we? But we will make this no matter what. As long as we have each other,” Minho said softly. That made Jisung turn his gaze back at Minho, and Minho could see some sort of relief taking over Jisung’s features.

“Yeah, we will. As long as we have each other.” Jisung then raised his hand again, this time putting it on Minho’s chin. Jisung looked at Minho with eyes so deep Minho felt like drowning. Jisung started to pull Minho’s face towards him. Minho knew where this was going, but he wasn’t yet done with talking. So, before their lips could meet, Minho jumped up from the bed, and walked backwards towards his desk. Minho looked at Jisung with a teasing smile. In response Jisung looked at him with a shocked face that quickly turned into a smile. He then chuckled softly before getting up from the bed too, and walked towards Minho.

“You know that Mr Vernier saw us in the library the other night?” Minho asked. He was smiling, and his smile turned into a laugh when he noticed Jisung’s face turn into a mortified expression.

“So that’s why he kept looking at me so teasingly! Oh fuck, how can I show my face in front of him ever again?” Jisung once again put his hands in front of his face, and let out an over-dramatic sigh.

Minho walked towards him, and pulled his hands from his face. “Mr Vernier is a good man, but he is also the funniest man I know. He will probably make some teasing comments about it, but he will not hold it against you. He supports us. But I can’t wait until you actually have to see him. I can’t wait to see you suffer, marquis,” Minho said in a teasing tone. He looked at Jisung with a smile on his face. In response Jisung wrapped his hands around Minho, and started to shake him.

“So, you like seeing me suffer, servant boy?” Jisung asked with a voice just as teasing as Minho’s. Minho only laughed loudly in response, making Jisung laugh too. Their laughs sounded good together, at least according to Minho.

They calmed down shortly after, and their eyes met once again. Just then Minho registered Jisung’s hands around his waist. This time he didn’t feel a blush running on his cheeks or butterflies flying inside his stomach. He only felt the warmth of Jisung’s clothed hands on his waist. Just then he realized how Jisung was still wearing his gloves.

“Why are you always wearing gloves, marquis?” Minho asked. It had been bothering the whole time he had known the marquis.

“Oh! It’s actually really stupid. I box a lot with Chan and Changbin, so my knuckles always have bruises on them. Not a very pretty sight in these circles. And also once when we were in a tavern we got this great idea to tattoo our initials on the back of our hands. And tattoos aren’t really seen as a sign of decency, so I just hide it,” Jisung explained. He also then started to take off his gloves, and for the first time ever Minho saw Jisung’s hands. And fuck, Jisung had nice hands. Like he said, he had bruises on his knuckles, and on the back of his right hand were the letters H and J. His hands weren’t that big, but they were manly. And on the back of his hands he had visible veins. Jisung’s hands were hot.

“You- you have very nice hands,” Minho said, still feeling a bit flustered. He then turned his gaze at Jisung, and looked at him through his lashes before raising the other’s hands to his lips and kissing his knuckles. This time it was Jisung who had blush running on his cheeks, and who turned his gaze away. Minho smiled teasingly at the other. He then noticed how Jisung’s gaze had got glued on something on his desk.

Minho let go of Jisung’s hands as the other walked to his desk, Minho following right behind him. Jisung then pointed at the four items on his desk. “What are these?” Jisung asked.

On the desk were the old darning needle, the dried primrose, a paper with text on it and the blue bracelet. “Well, you know some of these. First is that darning needle. When we first met in the opening ceremony I used it as a belt because my pants kept falling off. Then the next is the primrose you gave me in the viscount’s garden. I dried it, and, well, here it is. This paper is the poem we read together in the library. I wrote it down earlier today. And then this is the bracelet you gave me. You probably know more about it than I do. But these are all the items I have got from the times we have met.”

“The bracelet was a gift my father gave my mother on the third time they met. From that moment they knew they would be together forever. My mother gave it to me when I came of age, and said I’d have to give it to the right person when I meet them. I think she always knew I wouldn’t marry a woman. I think she knows everything about me before I even know it. She was the one who told me I am in love with you, actually. I guess I knew it already, but I didn’t want to admit it,” Jisung explained.

“And you decided to give the bracelet to me?” Minho asked. He looked at Jisung, who was already looking at him with eyes full of warmth – and love.

“I know in my life there will never be anyone else I’d want to give it to.” The tone Jisung spoke in was so soft, like the words he was saying weren’t meant for anyone but the two of them. Well, they weren’t, but nonetheless it made Minho feel so loved.

“I just now realized that these items with the saying. Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue and a silver sixpence in your shoe,” Jisung then said excitedly. He looked like a kid who was waiting to get their christmas present. It was a sweet sight, but Minho truly didn’t understand what the other was talking about.

“Jisung, why on earth do you have a silver sixpence in your shoe?” Minho asked Jisung with a confused expression. In response Jisung only laughed – very hard, which made Minho even more confused.

“No, I don’t have a silver sixpence in my shoe. It’s that saying about a wedding. There has to be something old, which is the old darning needle. Next is something new, which is the primrose. Then something borrowed, which are the words from the poem. Then something blue, which is the bracelet. And then it’s just finished off with the and a silver sixpence in your shoe. Have you never heard of this?” Jisung asked with clear amusement in his voice.

“No, I haven’t. But it is quite sweet. But just to make sure, you do not have that silver sixpence in your shoe. Because if you do, I think I have to reconsider this thing between us all over again.”

“No, I don’t,” Jisung said with a laugh. Jisung’s laugh was really addicting, Minho hoped to hear it more often. Jisung then put his hands back on Minho’s waist, and looked at Minho with his warm eyes. Minho raised his hands on the other’s cheeks, caressing them with his thumbs.

“I love you, servant boy,” Jisung said, and Minho felt himself smiling, most likely brighter than he had ever before.

“And I love you, marquis,” Minho said back to him before he leaned closer to Jisung and captured his lips into his own ones.

It felt like everything fell into its right place at that moment. Their lips moved against each other perfectly. Minho could feel the warmth and softness of Jisung’s lips against his own. Jisung was demanding in the kiss, like he desired all of Minho, but he was also incredibly soft, as if he was trying to give Minho everything just through his lips. His hands on Minho’s waist were warm, and they kept pushing Minho closer to him until there was no space between them. Minho kept his other hand on Jisung’s cheek, and moved his other hand on the back of the other’s head, tangling his fingers into his hair.

After what felt like an eternity but still not long enough they pulled away. Minho rested his forehead against Jisung’s one, and panted softly. He could also feel Jisung’s breath on his own face, the other breathing a bit more heavily than before.

“Would you like to stay here for the night?” Minho then asked, turning his eyes to look at Jisung who was already looking at him.

“I’d be delighted to,” was all Jisung said before connecting their lips, this time a bit more harshly. And Minho felt like Jisung was everywhere, and he never wanted the feeling to stop.

Was this what it felt like to be in love?