NSTgia
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Summary
minghao has never ever been the jealous type... but it's never too late to change.
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Summary
Beomgyu shifted his weight, fingers tightening around his keys. "...Do you live here?" He asks, then internally backtracks. What a stupid question. He knows who lives here.
The guy's demeanor broke momentarily. "Uh, no," he said in a soft voice, straightening to look up at Beomgyu, his business casual suit that's too askew after his long subway ride. "I'm— I'm waiting for my boyfriend." The guy has dimples that show at the slightest twitch of his lips.
or: Beomgyu dislikes his neighbour. It gets much more complicated than that when he starts running into the guy's supposed boyfriend, Choi Soobin.
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Jisung has never had a date for Valentine's Day. Never. Never. Naturally, as his best friend and number #1 bro, Changbin steps up to the plate and volunteers as tribute.
Yeah, this is definitely going to be one for the books.
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Jisung wrenches open the heavy, lacquered door of his private suite.
The solid oak meets resistance almost immediately, followed by a muffled, resonant thud. It is the sound of impact against something decidedly solid and alive.
A low, rich sound follows, a hybrid of pained groan and genuine laughter, vibrating through the doorframe. It is a remarkably pleasant sound, considering the circumstances.
Jisung steps back, pulling the door with him, to reveal the consequence of his impatience. The man on the other side is straightening with a slow, deliberate grace that seems to absorb the shock of the blow.
“Well,” the man murmurs. His voice is a warm, smooth, utterly professional yet infused with an unspoken amusement that seems to linger in the air between them. “Your Highness, I suppose that counts as a first impression.”
Han Jisung is a prince of image, not of power, and his life is a script of ribbon-cuttings and diplomatic smiles — lonely, scrutinized, and utterly predictable. His world shifts when Yang Jeongin, whose life is one of vigilance, efficiency, and flawless control, is assigned as his new personal protection officer.
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Jeongin raises his hand. He aims. The arrow is warm against his fingers, eager to fly, eager to fulfil its purpose. He focuses on the threads between them, on the love that is already there, on the nudge they so desperately need.
He releases. The arrow leaves his hand. It flies true, straight and golden, aimed directly at the Seungmin’s chest.
And then.
Felix.
Felix appears from nowhere, from everywhere, from the direction of the dogs he went to play with.
He runs directly into the path of the arrow.
Jeongin sees it happen as though time has slowed, as though the universe is determined to make him watch every single frame of the disaster he has just created.
The arrow hits Felix square in the back.
Jeongin has shot three arrows in his twenty-one years as a half-Cupid. All successful. All painfully obvious. The fourth arrow — the one meant for Seungmin’s stubborn heart — is supposed to be his easiest job yet.
He doesn’t account for Felix’s terrible timing, or the way his own heart will shatter when the arrow finds its unintended target.