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Jungkook practically flew across the room towards her.  He slid into the bed next to her and turned eagerly towards her.  The look in his eyes was definitely unsettling her now.  She swallowed.  And winced.

“Does your throat still hurt?” he whispered.

She nodded.  But right now, her heart was hurting worse.  The expression in his eyes was making her long for things she used to yearn for.  Things she had decided a few days ago were completely unrealistic.  Far beyond her meager reach.  But now the light in his eyes was making her hope again.  

Her gaze left his to trace the beautiful planes of his beloved face.

Beloved?

Yes.  She acknowledged that Jungkook’s face had become beloved to her over the last few weeks.  Until he’d choked her with a broomstick.  But now she recognized that gorgeous countenance still held the ability to mesmerize her.  Only, now there was some new element in his gaze that was undoing her.  

Had she not felt so crummy, she would have been drawn towards him.  She might have wanted to melt into his arms and surrender her lips to his kiss.  Would it be tender?

Or would he be rough like the night she’d come to his defense?

But as he reached for her, she had to acknowledge another truth.  There was nothing rough about the hands that slipped around her now.  Or about the gentle expression that lit up his eyes as he smiled ruefully at her.

“I can hold you.  Right?” he breathed.

She blinked.  Feeling self-conscious again. “If you want,” she responded in the tiniest of voices.

“I want,” he replied eagerly, a grin suddenly suffusing his whole face with joy again.

Her heart tumbled towards him as he drew her near him.  She pillowed her head over his heart.  And instantly heard its galloping cadence.  Her eyes widened.  Why would his heart be racing?  He’d just spent a half hour in a chair eating dinner.  Not running around the halls of the palace or playing out in its courtyard.

But as his heat enveloped her, she suddenly felt the strength of her fatigue.  She could no longer fight to keep her eyes open.  They sealed shut as her hand slid across his chest.  But as she was drifting off to sleep, she suddenly recalled a moment early this morning.  When she’d realized he wasn’t wearing a shirt.  His skin had been surprisingly soft.  She suddenly wished that he had lost his shirt tonight.  Before he’d crawled into bed with her.

—

Before long, he could hear the steady rhythm of her breathing.  He dipped his head towards hers and felt the silk of her hair kiss his chin.  He smiled and rubbed his face back and forth across those soft tresses.  He breathed in deeply and smelled hibiscus. Suddenly, the large pink blooms were exploding in his imagination.  Korean roses had been his mother’s favorite flowers.  She had once told him they were blossoms from heaven.  

“An eternal blossom that never fades,” she had explained the meaning of the flower’s name, mugunghwa, to him once.  For some reason he’d always remembered it.

Suddenly, he was swamped by sweet memories of his eomma’s beloved presence.  He felt a shocking sob bubbling up from somewhere deep in his heart.  He fought to suppress it, yet it still emerged as an odd sort of cough.  

He was trembling now.  Thankfully, Jina was sound asleep, so she remained unaware of the unexpected effect that her hair’s fragrance had just had upon a man who was truly still a boy.  Longing for a love he had once possessed yet lost too soon.

––

“Insuk, can you assist me this afternoon?” Jimin asked his friend while they shared a delicious breakfast during their morning break.  

There were certain benefits of being a friend of the royal chef.  Delectable food was one of them. 

“What are we going to do?” she queried.

“Design and create a wedding cake.”

Her eyes grew wide.  “Who’s getting married?”

Jimin glanced around.  “One of the guards is marrying a servant girl.”

Her eyes grew round.  “Really?  I haven’t heard any rumors of a romance in that quarter.”

“It’s all very hush-hush,” Jimin replied.  “I don’t know why.  But the queen wants me to make them a beautiful wedding cake.  And I would like your help.”

Insuk’s eyes lit up.  “I’d love to help.  Thanks for asking, Jimin.”

He glanced at her with an odd expression in his gaze.  “No, Insuk.  Rather, thank you for your help.”

She met his gaze.  Did Jimin not understand how useless she felt sometimes confined to this wheelchair?  Worse yet, how useless others made her feel?  Jimin was the only one who ever asked her for help like she was a capable woman.  Maybe even like she was an able-bodied girl.  

“Jimin, I mean it.  You treat me like a person.  Not a problem without a solution.  Not a nuisance.  Or a mistake.  You treat me like a girl.”

“You are a girl.”  He arched one midnight eyebrow.

“I mean, you treat me like a normal girl.”

He was gazing at her now like she was a little loopy.  “You are a normal girl, Insuk.”

She sighed.  “I am.  But you are the only one who acknowledges that fact.  So… Thank you.” She bobbed her head up and down as she gazed earnestly up at him.

Insuk was so much more to him than a normal girl.  Jimin didn’t even notice that wheelchair anymore.   He saw only the generous heart that beat in her chest and the beautiful face that graced that broken body.  

But he sighed in frustration.  For Insuk seemed oblivious to the truth that he was now a man.  No longer a boy.  Not simply her playmate.  But now, a bona fide man to be desired.  Would she ever see him that way?