enhypen imagines.

safe & sound.

↣ jay park x reader; angst, royalty au, prince!jay, knight!mc.

the prince should be accustomed to this—always finding himself at the brink of losing something so beloved, so dear, come dusk or dawn—yet here he is, falling apart and unable to let go.

warnings: mentions of war, mentions/implications of death

wordcount: 0.9k

Jay watches the world fall apart before him, hundreds of footfalls akin to crashing raindrops against windowpanes, the clang of armory and weapons apparent even though he stands miles away from the commotion. Through the frosted glass by the halls, he glimpses a trail of bright orange lights dotting the path from the castle gates cleaving through the middle of the sleeping village, flickering lanterns held by knights and squires and archers mounted on horses to answer the King's cry for assistance, all unknowing of what the dawn may hold but facing the night with their chins held high, anyway.

The seasons are giving way to war, Jay knows that; he's spent countless hours inside map rooms and cabinets discussing all possible strategies for battle with the kingdom's most brandished military advisers and skilled commanders, laid out plans that were to be executed should certain events occur—he has approached everything exactly how an heir is supposed to: calmly, rationally, without a smidgen of doubt, unflinching at the jagged edges of the truth.

But to watch you leave, the gravity of it feels heavier than the crown.

Finally, the prince looks at you, but he does not face you. Jay stares at the reflection of your visage on the window, afraid that once he turns around the fact that you're leaving might become unbearable. He'd given you not a single glance nor word during the meeting earlier—what, with royal advisors and other members of the family flocking around, panic and urgency creating a buzz around the cabinet room—but he couldn't gaze at you the same: he couldn't bring himself to accept the possibility that the space you occupied would remain empty after the fighting, that he wouldn't be able to glimpse your stifled half-smiles and discreet scoffs at pompous nobles, leaning near him to share whispers, if only the universe was so kind as to spare us from this wretched life.

Alas, he'd always reply, with all the complacence a boy at fourteen could bear, we've always known that the cosmos weren't in our favor.

Alas, his fist tightens; he turns slowly, sweeps his gaze over your face, your eyes, your lips. Eighteen is so young, but you're both weathered and weary, having seen so much of the darkness when you should've been basking in the light. "Commander L/N."

You put your hand to your chest as you incline your head in a bow, forcing yourself not to shake. "Rest assured, Your Highness, we will not allow this country to be reduced to ashes."

At the cost of setting yourself on fire.

You exhale quietly. You turn, ready to head towards chaos. Jay's hand shoots up, wraps his fingers around your wrist, and his touch burns.

"Stay. Please."

You freeze in place. Jay's hold trembles slightly. "Your Highness, if it is a matter of concern over your security, you've been informed that Sir Heeseung is to remain here—"

"Y/N," he croaks, and your gaze snaps to him, eyes quivering. He doesn't even know what's taken over him, but his whisper curls itself around your throat and clouds your mind with a heavy fog: his grip is loose, helpless that he knows he can't stop you, but he tries. "Let me come with you."

"You know we cannot do that," you counter, tone softening. "The Queen needs you. Riki needs you. This kingdom needs you—"

"I need you." He pinches his eyes shut, like convincing himself that this is naught but a dream. His words hang in the air. He promised once that he would defy everything, everything, even the stars, just to stay by your side. He loves you. By god, he loves you, but fate is cruel.

Fate tells him he cannot choose you.

He feels something skim against his cheek, and it's only when he opens his eyes again does he realize he's weeping. You come closer, gentle hands brushing away moonlit tears, and you abhor seeing him like this. You want to tell him yes, you will stay. To cease his pain, you would stay. But when you feel him grasp your hands, you remind yourself, again and again: for Jay. For the people. For the kingdom. For the kingdom. For the people. For Jay.

The war might leave you in shambles, and tomorrow appears bleak and blurry, but to let yourself be shattered in exchange for a tomorrow where everything and everyone you love is safe and sound, it is worth it. They are always worth it.

So you hold him closer (he's warm, like sweet summer days, foreheads touching; you'll miss this), please, just a little longer. "You'll always have me, love. No matter how many times we are torn apart," you place a palm over his heart, thump thump thump, "I will always remain here. Ergo dum me diligis."

So long as you love me.

Jay pulls away, kisses your knuckles softly. "Always, my heart. Always."

You plant a kiss on the edge of his lips, and Jay cradles your cheek (you're gentle, a spring breeze across lush heathers; he'll miss this). He feels you murmur a goodbye against his skin. Just as suddenly as he felt your embrace, Jay is once again left in the cold, watching your figure disappear into the darkness like a wandering ghost.

A gust of wind blows towards him. In a few hours' time, he and his mother would be appointed to possibly more duties than he's ever handled his whole life, fight battles of his own, but now, he lets the sky hear his plead:

Come back to me.