Her eyes slipped past his chest and drifted across the defined muscles that littered the expanse of his abdomen. He was...fully naked.... Her cheeks grew warm as her sight was brought to a pause right below his belly. A fur had tangled up and spread across his hips, her body and the mat they laid upon. But, just seeing the small amount of silky obsidian hair that peeked up from underneath the fur had her heart about to come out of her chest.
She finally forced herself away from his seductive warmth. He moved not, still seemingly sleep, his hair covering his face, mouth slightly afar. Lifting a fur she covered herself and surveyed the scene around them. Their clothes had been discarded, roughly she might add, disarray and a sense of urgency about them.
She felt a warm rush of wetness rise up from in between her thighs as her gaze drifted back to the sleeping man a few finger lengths away. What on earth had happened? Fear sliced her belly at all of the possible situations and she slowly stood, carefully and quietly as to not disturb him. Stepping over the mixture of wet and dry clothes, she found a hanbok neatly folded, seemingly meant for her. Slipping into it, she glanced back at him one last time before she high tailed it out of there, eager to be away.
***
When he'd awakened, he had found her gone, her lingering heat and scent still in the fur next to him. He'd laid there for quite a while and just reveled in the fact that she was alive. For the second time in the span of some months, he'd almost lost her to the clutches of death. He wasn't sure how to direct his anger at that fact but he knew that he needed to thank the gods for their interference. He finally got up and got dressed, a sage green hanbok neatly folded and pressed. Tying his hair up into a ponytail, he had left the medicinal ward, seeking solace away from all in the libraries. His sister had discovered him and for a while kept him company and eventually left. But not before answering an unasked question. She had revealed that Hyung had been the cause of her almost drowning. In a fit of drunken rage, he'd followed her and gone after her, pushing her into the freezing lake himself. He'd almost gone after him but Mishil stopped him.
"Oppa-nim...don't give him what he wants." Furious, he brought a hand down onto one of the tables.
"This will forever be a never ending game between the two of you. If you continue, your musori will unfortunately see her demise." At that, he swallowed whatever spit remained in his mouth.
"You care?" Mishil sighed heavily.
"For her not entirely. But... what I can't ignore is the way you react when she is harmed. It makes me think that she might be of good use after all."
"Is that so?"
"She will always be a cheonmin. And a musori at that. But...perhaps this once I can extend some understanding towards her. Some...grace. For the actions of our brother." He took his seat, eyes intensely on her.
"Seo Jun oppa has descended into a state of madness the women in the harem say. I am inclined to believe them. He has fallen even further from our Father's graces and he may never get back into them again." Bowing her head, she left him alone. His finding the decayed head of the one he had employed to kill his own brother had altered everything about him they said. The battle he lost, the humiliation he suffered too great to recover from they said. Getting up, he closed the scrolls he had been reading and neatly filed them in their proper place. On this day, with the sun shining bright despite the chill, he would ride. Ride until he floated away from the Palace itself, her enemies, danger, hatred and lurk of death that hid behind every corner. He'd lose himself.
