Step Out: Records | Stray Kids x Reader | Oneshots

Minho - Thorn in My Side

Candle-lit ballrooms, you'd grown to learn, were always accompanied by the everlasting scent of sandalwood. From above, the flickering chandelier would lend its guests a glamourous glow, all of whom arrive with the distinct click-clacking of their binding heels, curtseying to potential suitors and the like.

It was a splendid night for dancing, for the candles would cast elusive shadows with every ebb and flow of the waltz. These same shadows would make this a perfect night for the Thorn Princess's illicit affairs.

Every greeting you received was returned with a curt nod, hoping to elude curious eyes throughout the entirety of the night. Your enormous raven ballgown made weaving through the crowd a difficult task. It was much too restrictive around your shoulders for your liking, but the grandeur was necessary to blend in with the rest of the attendees that evening. Hopefully, you wouldn't have to don it for much longer.

"Ah, the young princess of Ostania. I was starting to worry I would miss you this fine night."

Or so you had thought.

You tried to mask your irritation with a deep breath. Only once you plastered on that practised smile did you bow and hide your face behind an elaborately embellished fan. "Second Prince of Westalis," you said in what you hoped was an awestruck tone. "I was wondering much the same."

The prince simply tilted his head to the side, the corners of his mouth resisting a very obvious urge to smirk. Instead, he surveyed you head to toe with a mischievous glint in his eye. "I don't suppose you can blame me for your lurking around in the shadows like some shady hermit all night, now can you?"

Your fan halted immediately and was then laid down on the nearest surface with a cracking thud. An irksome cross appeared on your forehead as you folded your arms over your chest.

You huffed, "Forgive my impudence your highness but I rather think your parading around with fair maidens wrapped around your arms hardly has anything to do with me."

"Don't be silly. There's nothing to forgive." He waved a hand dismissively with a shallow laugh. "We both know you're not sorry."

The corner of your eye twitched furiously, but before you could implode on the prince's crudity, he offered you a gloved hand while the other gestured to the centre of the ballroom. The audacity.

"Now, now, won't you at least indulge me with a dance before you start glaring daggers at me?"

You could barely respond, chest heaving with erupting frustration. It hardly mattered, for you already felt a hand slide to your waist and pull you forward so you were just inches away from the face you so badly wanted to sock.

"You are a guest in my kingdom. I suggest you do as I say," he said in a low voice indicative of how the hubbub of the crowd started to quiet, all eyes suddenly falling on the two of you. Clearly, you were in no position to decline.

With a sigh, you tentatively laid your hand in his and let him lead you to the spotlight. The guests watched in an amazed circle as the son and daughter of the rivalling kingdoms engaged in a waltz.

Gradually, you fell into the rhythm of the orchestration, letting the music guide your carefully calculated footsteps. Actually no, never mind the music. It was the prince who guided you through the dance. Unlike your rigid movements, he seemed to drift through the dance floor, swaying and spinning you in perfect alignment with every beat.

Of course, you would never admit this to him who was merely a breath away.

"Now, now princess. You can't keep staring at your feet." Count on him to ruin the magic of the moment by opening his mouth. "You leave me not much of a view to look at," he whispered.