Underneath

Oftentimes, people say that a person can easily hide his feelings underneath silly jokes and teasings.

"Hime, your spaced out look is ugly. No wonder you never had another suitor after Tae-jun."

Hak, the thunder beast of Kouka and ex-general of the wind tribe, looked at me with an annoyed look on his face. With his spear slung against his back, he was giving out tips on how I will improve my archery. However, I spaced out in the middle of his lecture about dry firing my weapon.

He followed up with a question, "are you even listening?"

"I'm sorry," I replied apologetically. This time, I fixed my amethyst eyes against his pair of azures.

"I hope that brain of yours absorbed what I had said," he sighed, putting his hand near his temple. I doubted whether a hint of insult was implicitly said in his statement but the doubt disappeared immediately when he continued, "because you have that look every time you take your lessons back in the palace and end up failing the exam afterwards."

However, I would like to point out that my bodyguard is a case of exception. His insults and jokes are exactly as they are: insults and jokes. I grimaced at him, frowning and slightly pouting my lips. Even though I am used to his out-of-the-blue insults in inappropriate times, I often think of him annoying. He has been doing that since we were children.

"You know, it's a good thing that you're pretty," he blurted out, trying to hide his laughter. This time, countering what he had just said about my ugly spaced out look. "That pretty much makes up for your lack of wits"

My request to remain being called a princess did not diminish the number of inappropriate insults he hurls at me – oftentimes focusing on my physical attribute or bordering between a simple flirtation and insinuating harassment. Part of me wanted for him to remember what we have been through since children. Another part of me asked that favour in order for him to remember who we were right before this journey – that I was a princess and he was a general as I felt that the thin border between us kept on crumbling and crumbling.

I wondered, whether there has been a wall between us since we were children. I truly recalled my liking for him and his inclination to always help me whenever I am in trouble.

"Try dry firing your bow again and you'll end up with cuts across your face and hands." He looked at me with confidence. "Try to protect the only asset you have left, hime."

I frowned again, this time at his latest hurl. This time, I remained silent and wondered how long it had been since we've become this close. I was not talking about the physical closeness with our bodies only few inches away from each other. I was talking about this kind of easiness with each other.

"Seriously, hime, I don't want you to get hurt," he said softly. This time, his bright blue eyes softened as well. I blinked twice, trying to decipher whether it was a genuine concern or a concern with an implied insult.

"No dry firing," he whispered as he lowered his head. This time, his face was inches away from mine. His azure eyes reflected my confused face. His face was gentle yet strong. He has a musk that infiltrated my nostrils – a mixture of fresh grass and peppermint. With his face near mine, I imaginatively mapped the contours of his face, trying to etch him in my mind. The bridge of his nose. The curve of his lips. The only words I was able to mutter were "of course."

Then, he smiled nonchalantly and placed his hand on my head. "Maybe, I should write it down for you. You're spacing out again."

"I am not," I defensively cried, putting my hand on his face and pushing him away. With a hint of heat on my cheeks, I repeated, "no dry firing."

They say that a woman can easily catch a man's affection through silly teasings. Then again, for this man, it was impossible to do so.

FIN