Mendelssohn's violin concerto in E minor, easily among the most beautiful violin concertos of all time, lasts nearly thirty minutes. Yet this is the fourth time it's restarted today, and Saeran and (Y/N) still haven't stopped dancing.
Their feet move slowly, waltzing at half the tempo of the piece, less focused on dancing and more occupied with basking in each others' warmth, staying as close together as possible.
The Recruitment Ceremony concluded a little over two hours ago, and all the new believers were celebrating their faith and loyalty to the Savior by indulging in their first taste of happiness at the Mint Eye, at this feast.
For Saeran, though, food was the last thing on his mind.
The dress the Savior gave (Y/N) fit perfectly, hugging her curves in a way that Saeran thought made her too gorgeous to risk leaving for the whole ballroom to see. He had never glared at anyone the way he stared daggers at the new believers that were ogling (Y/N)'s body shamelessly.
Saeran made a mental note to ask the Savior to give (Y/N) more modest dresses. He slipped an arm around her waist and tried to subtly pull the dress down, quickly bringing his hand back to its original position afterward. Her amused giggle made him realize that she had indeed noticed.
"Oh, Saeran~" (Y/N) cooed, dragging his name out in the same way that always tangled his thoughts, "Do you not like this dress?"
"O-of course not. I mean. Of course. Wait..." Saeran stuttered, taking a moment to gather his thoughts before continuing, "It's a nice dress. Especially on you. B-but it's really short... have you noticed how the new believers are staring at you?"
Saeran heard (Y/N) laugh again, and he wanted to bury his face in her hair and hide the blush that he knew was spreading across his face. Her hair...her beautiful, beautiful hair...Why did I have to style it like this today? I should have done something simpler, something that would draw less attention, I could have avoided this!
"Saeran, the dress is barely above my knees. And you have nothing to worry about." (Y/N) brought her hand from his shoulder to his cheek and stared at him with those familiar, trusting eyes. "None of them would dare lay a hand on me after this."
"This?" Saeran cocked his head, puzzled.
"Saeran, we've danced for nearly two hours, and if looks could kill, every man in this room who even glanced my way would be dead. You've made it very clear that I'm off-limits." (Y/N) kissed Saeran's cheek, and he could hear the smirk in her voice.
"I-I didn't mean to..." Saeran murmured half-heartedly, even though he knew exactly what he was doing when he first dragged (Y/N) onto the ballroom dancing floor. And he may or may not have given the middle finger to a particular believer who had been staring at her rear.
"Sure," (Y/N) said with a chuckle, before abruptly stopping and clasping Saeran's two hands in her own. "Anyway, let's get food. I haven't eaten since breakfast, I'm starving."
"Alright, princess, you pick a table, and I'll bring enough food for both of us."
"I can get my own food, Saeran!" (Y/N) whined as Saeran guided her off the wooden floor and toward the buffet, but Saeran was bent on being a gentleman. The way the men were staring at her figure, he'd much rather have her bottom in a chair than up and about.
"Technically speaking, I'm your boss now. You're no longer a disciple, so you'll be helping me out with perimeter management and software protection in the Security Room. That means you have to do what I say, princess, so go get us a table."
Without giving (Y/N) any room to protest, Saeran made a beeline for the buffet. He filled two plates with all his beloved sweets and all (Y/N)'s favorite dishes. Only when he actually got to the table (Y/N) had selected did Saeran realize that he had only gotten dessert items.
(Y/N) didn't seem to notice, though, immediately indulging in the array of treats Saeran had brought back.
The two ate in silence, enjoying the now familiar melody of the music that was being played in the background. Saeran found himself unable to draw his eyes away from (Y/N) as she ate; everything about her looked perfect. Even her hair, which Saeran always thought looked a little off when he tried a sophisticated hairstyle like this one, had held its shape throughout the night. And god, the dress was still driving him crazy. Had the Savior consciously chosen something that would make him feel this way? The woman had been asking an awful lot of questions about (Y/N) at Saeran's previous meeting with her. Still, Saeran thought that was because they were discussing (Y/N) joining the Savior's council.
Saeran groaned inwardly and forced himself to stop staring at (Y/N)'s bare shoulders and tried to focus on the dessert he was eating, but he quite suddenly found that he had an appetite for a different kind of dessert.
Shit, stop it, Saeran told himself, It's bad enough that you almost kissed her earlier in her room. Now this? You need to control yourself.
"So," (Y/N)'s voice broke Saeran from his thoughts. "The Savior said that I'd have to go through secondary commitment. W...What do you have to do for the secondary commitment?"
Saeran swallowed, keenly aware of what (Y/N) was really asking.
There were two commitments one could make to the magenta: primary and secondary. Primary commitment was the first step believers took in joining the Mint Eye. It was their first test to see if they were truly committed to building and sharing the magenta.
It was quite a simple process, actually.
Drink the Elixir of Salvation.
The pain that accompanied the Elixir alone would typically be enough to distinguish true believers from fakers; in (Y/N)'s case, though, her primary commitment had been extended, and the dosage doubled, the Savior particularly hesitant about accepting her into the Mint Eye.
Saeran had never told (Y/N) that her commitment was any different than the usual, though. He didn't want her to begin harboring any kind of distaste for the Savior that would warrant further Elixirs. After all, Saeran had been by (Y/N)'s side the whole time, dabbing away at her sweat as she slept, helping her drink water in her delirium, holding her hand and never letting go as she sobbed in pain. He never left her side last time, and he'd be there for her this time too.
"Secondary commitment is worse," Saeran said bluntly. He didn't want to continue, he didn't want to talk about it, but the fearful look in (Y/N)'s eyes forced his mouth. "It's a repeat of primary commitment with some...extra things added."
Saeran saw (Y/N) shudder and bite her lip, a habit that only came to light when (Y/N) was scared. "What extra things, Saeran?" Her voice was gentle, despite the fear she must have been harboring at that moment.
"Well...extra time, for one. Secondary commitment takes a-a month." Saeran brought his hand over the table and placed it on top of (Y/N)'s, trying to comfort her in the terror he knew she was facing as she mentally braced herself for the hell that she was to embrace the next day.
Saeran knew what she was going through. When he found out about secondary commitment, he was so scared he actually tried to go back to being a disciple, even though it was out of his hands at that point.
He continued, "You'll be assigned a handler. You can't back out of secondary commitment, so your handler will force the Elixir down your throat if necessary...you'll most likely never be able to forgive your handler for the pain they give you."
"Go on." (Y/N) said after taking a shaky breath.
"Your eyes...you're to be one with the Mint Eye. You'll adorn the namesake, and your eyes will be bleached to this color," Saeran pointed to his own eyes, trying not to recall the pain that accompanied that particular feat. (Y/N)'s eyes grew even rounder in fear as she stared at the unnatural color Saeran's eyes were. No doubt, she had previously thought they were contact lenses.
"Your hair...it isn't magenta, so your handler will bleach your hair and then deprive your body of nutrients for the month. Your body won't be able to keep your hair at its color, it'll be too deprived of the vitamins it needs, so your hair will become a lot thinner, and it'll lose color. It'll feel like the worst migraine you've ever had, but it's not too bad when compared to the other things..."
Saeran didn't want to say more. He understood that (Y/N) needed to know what she was about to go through, but reciting the details of secondary commitment was bringing back some horrid memories for the boy.
"Saeran, please." (Y/N) squeezed Saeran's hand and looked at him with earnest eyes. I'm so weak, Saeran thought to himself, I should be the one comforting (Y/N) right now, but she's the one holding my hand. "I can't walk into the commitment room tomorrow and not know what I'm in for. I almost didn't make it through primary commitment for that very reason."
Saeran dropped his eyes and stared at the untouched flan on his plate. "That's mostly it. You'll be branded with the sigil of the Mint Eye, either burnt or given a tattoo like the one I have. But...(Y/N), there's one thing I haven't told you."
Saeran swallowed nervously, unable to meet the eyes of the precious girl he cared so much for. This time, (Y/N) didn't ask him to continue, but the slight squeeze of his hand gave Saeran enough boldness to tell her the truth.
"I'm to be your handler for secondary commitment," Saeran whispered, "Savior's orders."
Saeran felt warmth leave his hand and looked up to see (Y/N)'s entire form withdrawn in fear. Saeran extended an arm to caress her cheek, but she recoiled at the first contact. "I-I'm sorry," she murmured, standing up, "I-I need some time alone t-to..."
(Y/N) trailed off and forced herself out of the seat, making way for the large double doors at the end of the room.
Saeran didn't let her get that far, though. "(Y/N), wait," He told her, grabbing her wrist and pulling her smaller body into his, him practically spooning her as they stood, "Please." Saeran whispered, and that one word communicated all that needed to be said.
(Y/N) turned around and faced him, and for the first time since her primary commitment, Saeran saw tears in her eyes. "I'm scared, Saeran," (Y/N) whispered, "I don't want to hate you. I don't want to do my secondary commitment. I don't want to be a part of the Savior's council."
Saeran wrapped his arms around (Y/N) and let her tears flow into his shoulder, her tearful face protected from the stares of all the believers in the Mint Eye. "I know, princess." Saeran mumbled, stroking her hair, "I know."
Saeran was about to enter the worst month of his life, he knew. It would be worse than his own secondary commitment. Because this time, he wouldn't be on the receiving end of the pain.
He would be the cause of it.
Word count: 2.0k
Notes: Happy new year! Well, it's happy for some people. I'm a bit bummed right now -_- school starts back up in eight hours for me but honestly who even cares about school and sleep when you have Wattpad. Btw: this story will shift from the pov of (Y/N) to Saeran to Saeyoung and even Rika, so make sure you check the chapter title so you know who the chapter will focus on!
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Next Update: 1/06/20
I do not own the rights to Mystic Messenger or any of the characters within it.