RUSSIAN ROULETTE is a one-shot writing contest involving either the hit or miss of the genre you receive. whether in struggle or in infamous glory, your limits will be tested.
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- Courtesy of the Decelis A...
EVEN IF I'M WRONG, I DON'T DOUBT IT WHAT MATTERS IS BELIEVING IN MYSELF STRONGLY.
"Jaemin!" Seo Nara bursts into the room frantically, wide-eyed, covered in blood. "Tell them I didn't do it! I just found her-tell them I'm innocent! I would never-"
"I cannot do anything," the Grand Prince, Na Jaemin raises a hand to cut her off. "I'm sorry, Nara. But what can I say? They saw you there. That's clear proof to them."
Standing by the window of his room, he looks every bit the prince he is. She hates it.
Nara stops, staring at him. "What?" she nearly screams. "You-you're the Grand Prince and the heir to the throne! Your word is as good as the law at this point! You're the one person in this entire palace who can save me, who has the capability of doing it-"
Jaemin refuses to look at her. "Nara, the whole palace is in an uproar. I can't try to do anything to further complicate matters. You've run away from the guards, too. You're looking as guilty as you can get."
"So what?" she demands, giving a laugh of disbelief. "You're going to let them kill me?"
"That isn't it-"
"Then what is?"
Nara storms right up to him, grabbing him by the collar with her blood-covered hands and jerking him forward to eye level. She has always had the advantage of physical strength over most children her age as a child, and this has remained even as she bloomed into the beautiful young woman that she is today, though it pales in comparison to Sunghoon. Any of the men she finds herself in the company of, really. After all, what exercise that a concubine can get compares to that of the royal princes?
"You," she breathes, "are the biggest coward-"
"If that's your opinion of me," he cuts her off again, a firm hand wrapping around her wrist and freeing him, "why don't you run right back to my brother? I'm sure Jeno will be more than willing to protect you. I'm well aware of what you do behind my back."
Nara inhales sharply; raises a hand, and slaps him across the face. "Asshole," she hisses. "Why bother loving me if this is what you're going to do me? I should have known."
She shoves him back with enough force that he stumbles backwards a couple of steps, requiring him to grab the windowsill with one hand to prevent falling over. The shining fabric of his outfit, all princelike and showy, proving his status as the only actual heir to the throne, swishes as he levels her with a glare.
"Known what, Nara?" he asks evenly, stepping closer, leaning down to gap the eight or nine centimeters between them, getting right in her face with no obvious aggression. "I want to hear it. Go on. Known what? That I wouldn't protect you when I have no need to do so? Hm?"
