Cut the strings and set me free

Part 3- a puppet tied to countless strings

Nothing more than a nuisance.

Nothing more than something that lingers in the corner before impatient hands get rid of it.

And as I leave the two behind I feel that the shattered fragments of my heart leave my body too, silently resting within them.

That even if they never realise, it always was theirs. It always remained there.

And whatever decision I took, it had no intention of leaving the sanctuary, the confines of their sweet gentle souls.

That my heart remained and the person who walked out was a shell, a husk of the girl I wanted to be, of the woman I was yet to grow into.

JIMIN POV:

A day passes. And then two. And with each day I feel despair sink into me, feel sorrow and grief sit heavily in my stomach, feel that the numbness that came with seeing (Y/N) was because I saw how torn she was, saw how much she struggled and how much she pushed herself away.

Saw her teetering on the edge of a cliff, eyes wide with the optimistic hope that someone would pull her away and then saw the growing agony when no hand reached towards her and she fell, silently into the void.

Every glimpse of her was bittersweet agony. Was temptation and resistance tied together.

Because she reminded me of what I wanted, of what we craved, of what we'd long desired and yet she was unreachable, untouchable, she was a figment of a sweet midsummer dream that when I awoke it was to the lingering scent of her in the air and the ghost of her slipping away from touch, from sight.

And every glimpse of her, dress fine and standing tall reminds me of what role she has to play, what shoes she has to fill, but the sight of the ornate heart pendant resting on her skin, warmed by it, the sight of the delicate chain around her throat becomes a stabbing pain of longing, intensifying with each glimpse of it. The chain never leaves her throat, not during the day as she meets assemblies of courtiers, as she sits through meetings, fingers playing with the pendant, nor does it leave during the night where selfishly Tae and I creep into her bed and hold her close, the steady rise and fall of her chest as she sleeps deeply, the pendant sitting in the hollow of her throat, warm to the touch, but despite how soundly she sleeps- the dark shadows never leave. As if even in deepest sleep, she is plagued, as if when we slip away she wakes up with nightmares. Or maybe it's because sleep provides her a temporary respite from the nightmare we're all living, and the days consume her, eat at her from the inside.

But I stand there and watch, watch from the shadows that begin to seep into my eyes, into my soul, and slowly breaks away any happiness I once had. I watch as she withers away under my sight, growing restless and pale as the days to her marriage count down, the palace alive with celebration and late-night festivities that never end.

The Queen smiles more in this week than I have ever seen her smile in the past decade. She smiles as if she is absolved of all of her sorrows and griefs and laments, and as her daughter begins to wilt, she blooms- thriving on the joy and uproar the nation has for the sole heir's marriage, for the alliance and strength it will bring to both lands.

And I watch as Prince Jungkook never crosses that boundary of politeness, by her side without fail, never shutting her out, never ignoring her. But in his kindness he becomes a problem that Tae and I cannot overcome. He becomes a barrier between us and (Y/N), there in the early morning to break the day's fast with her, there as she sweeps from her chambers dressed for the day and there to bid her goodnight, with a gentle kiss brushed across her knuckles, his eyes lingering on the band that encircles her finger.

And the thought that he is able to see her first thing, when she's all sleepy and pliant and dazed with remnants of sleep, hovering between consciousness and unconsciousness, drifting in and out as she moves around makes my heart ache. That he gets to see her softest side, that he gets to see her at her most vulnerable.