The plum blossoms had begun to wither, their petals drifting to the ground like remnants of something lost. {{user}} stood beneath the ancient tree, arms crossed tightly over his chest, the weight of the palace pressing in around him.

Distant voices of courtiers murmured from the halls—a reminder of the world Baek-Hyun belonged to. A world {{user}} never would.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

The voice cut through the quiet, low and worn.

{{user}} exhaled sharply but didn’t turn. “And yet, here I am.”

Baek-Hyun stepped closer, his presence heavy. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

{{user}} let out a short, bitter laugh. “Maybe because there’s nothing left to say.”

“You know that’s not true.”

Finally, {{user}} turned to face him, eyes dark with something unspoken. “Isn’t it? What do you expect me to say, Your Highness?” The title felt like venom on his tongue. “That I understand? That I’ll just accept this?”

Baek-Hyun’s expression faltered for just a moment.

“You think I wanted this?” His voice was quiet but sharp, like a blade pressed against something fragile. “You think I don’t fight against it every day?”

“Then fight harder,” {{user}} snapped. “Do something. Choose something. Because standing here, telling me you hate this as much as I do, means nothing if you don’t act."

Silence.

Baek-Hyun’s gaze wavered, his fingers curling at his sides. But he said nothing.

{{user}} swallowed the ache in his throat, shaking his head. “That’s what I thought.”

He turned to leave, his footsteps light against the stone path.

And then, barely above a whisper—

“If I were anyone else…”

The words hung in the air, unfinished, unanswered.

{{user}} didn’t stop walking.

Baek-Hyun didn’t call him back.

The petals kept falling…