Minho froze when he heard the stranger's voice. He turned around, having just entered his room after a tedious day, to find someone perched on his windowsill. An assassin, he realized, that wasn't you.
He didn't cover his face, letting it bask in the young moonlight instead as he played with a dagger in his hand. He had longish black hair that fell over his eyes, making him look effortlessly handsome, and his attire was very similar to yours. Minho visibly relaxed, knowing that the stranger was from your organization and would most likely do him no harm. He's been getting too many visits from assassins lately.
The prince proceeded to take off his heavy, badged coat and drape it over a chair before rolling up the delicate sleeves of his shirt. He had nothing to tell the assassin.
"What do you plan on doing now?" The stranger asked and Minho furrowed his brows, "What do you mean?"
"What do you plan to do, crown prince, when your coronation takes place and you're told to choose a wife?" He finally looked at him, and the prince was taken aback by the venom that simmered in his eyes. His throat felt dry.
"I don't think you're planning to put an assassin on the throne beside you. Do you?" He tilted his head, almost mockingly and Minho gulped, "I-I haven't thought of that."
"Really?" The assassin scoffed, "Because I have."
When he received no response, he shrugged, "Well, you better think of something. Quick."
Without prior notice, he tossed the dagger in the prince's direction, watching the latter stumble away as the weapon clattered on the floor. Pathetic.
He let his legs dangle on the other side of the window, ready to jump out, but he couldn't leave without one last warning. "If you break her heart, your neck will follow."
With that, the assassin slipped away, and the prince stared at the window blankly. He hated to admit it, but the stranger was right. Which is why when you arrived at his window later that night, he was lost in thought.
"So, we might be gone- Minho, are you even listening to me?" You snapped your fingers in front of his face and that seemed to bring him out of his daze. He mustered a smile, but you could tell that something was bothering him.
"Are you okay?" Concern distorted your features and he shook his head dismissively. "It's nothing."
"No, it's not. Tell me."
He remained silent and you couldn't help the doubts that started flooding into your mind. This is it, you thought, he's starting to reconsider.
You've always known, in the back of your mind, that a day would come when he'd realize that loving a criminal like you would never work out. Such thoughts would pollute your head each time he seemed to be uncharacteristically silent and upset. You might've been the most feared assassin in the kingdom, but you were helpless when it came to losing Minho.
"Love," you called him as if he'd break if you spoke louder. Who knew a single person can have that much of an effect on you? "Please."
He exhaled and finally met your eyes. "Introduce me to your organization."
"What?"
"I want to meet the people you consider family," he repeated, holding your dubious gaze firmly.
You were surprised, to say the least. It has been more than a year since Jisung sent you to assassinate the prince, more than a year since you opened your heart to him, yet, you weren't sure if any of you were ready for such a huge revelation. "W-Why all of a sudden?"
"I...," he trailed away as his hands found yours, fingers slotting into each other as if they were always meant to be. "My coronation is coming soon."
You hummed, ignoring the way your heart clenched. So soon.
"I have to meet your family before, you know, asking for your hand." His thumb was brushing circles on the back of your hand when those words left his lips and your heart started mimicking that movement. You were convinced it dispersed into a million butterflies and fluttered away.
Your eyes were wide when you met his, and you regretted ever doubting Minho. He was gazing at you, so lovingly and endearingly that you supposed you should be crying. How could he make you utterly defenseless with a single look?
"Are you o-out of your mind?" You sputtered, not bothering with the redness that colored your cheeks. The prince chuckled and scooted closer to where you sat on a bench in the royal garden. The moon blushed when he made your foreheads touch, gently caressing your cheek with his free hand as mischief danced on his lips.
"I'm in love with an assassin. You tell me."
اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
