His Paper Garden of Madness
Prologue: Spring and You
A wish?
"Yes, a wish," said the man, his eyes alight with joy. With an unnecessary flourish he possessed, he perched on Master's bed without further contemplation and crossed his legs, giving you a wide smile. "Any wish in the world, I'll grant it for you."
His words made no sense to you. Not like Master's. Master always spoke calmly, word by word falling from his lips like a reverent prayer for you to understand. But this stranger—whose sharp fuchsia eyes bore into you like he saw past your façade—made little to no sense at all. You crane your head upwards to gaze at him, curious, for he seemed unperturbed with how he conversed with something like you as though it was a norm for humans.
Which begs the question, actually: Was he human?
"So tell me," the man began again, oblivious to the questions reflected in your eyes, letting a smirk grace his thin lips, "what will it be, Elizabeth?"
Master had a rough day at work today—no, he had been going through several rough days in a row. You know. Often times Master would overwork himself at his office and wind up home late, when the stars shone overhead and the skyscrapers in the skyline had long past switched off their lights. His fingers would loosen up his necktie, carefully draping it over the settee so that the maid would pick it up tomorrow, and with a movement too graceful to belong to a 26-year-old man, he'd stride over to the bed with his phone in his hands.
You'd seen this cycle for far too long to memorise the way his eyelashes dip over those pewter grey eyes and how a smile settled on his lips whenever he scrolled through something on the phone.
Other times, Master would return home earlier than expected, seemingly done with his workload for the day. Bespoke shoes safely shelved to the side, he stepped into the private expanse of his penthouse with a lighter bounce in his steps. He'd never fail to pick you up and deposit you in his lap as he combed his fingers through your fur—ah, you relished in his touch whenever he scratched behind your ears and gently nuzzle under your jaw, eliciting little mewls and happy purrs for him to enjoy.
"Elizabeth 3rd," Master would say, a smile already on his lips, "you're so beautiful, so intelligent…"
His little compliments, his little gestures, his little sighs of satisfaction, they're everything you loved about Master. A kind man he is, truly a kind man, one whose magnanimity extended not only to you, but to everyone else. Those who deserved his affection and attention aren't many, but only a few, and you suspected they were the very reason why Master was able to go on this far in his life. Without their support, Master would've never made it this far.
Yet… lately, something made Master sad. Terribly, terribly sad.
Night blankets the Seoul skyline, draping darkness over every cranny of his room. A brief outline of Master's resting figure could be seen behind the mysterious man who made himself at home in Master's penthouse, sitting on the edge of Master's very bed. From where you rested on the sofa, you could see the strange man's cotton blue hair curtaining his eyes, lighting the peculiar frenzy within those bright irises. How he actually got in through Master's very strict security system, you wouldn't know, but the one thing you knew was this: He was here to grant a wish. Your wish.
Blinking once, you stole a glance at Master. He slept soundly tonight, nary a movement coming from him except for a light snoring sound. He must've been exhausted, you realised, from the day's troubles at his company. Finding yourself more than wary to protect him, you raised your head.
Who are you? You mewled softly, cocking your head to the side, ears curling curiously. You don't smell very… human.
Which was the truth. Humans had a very distinct smell to them, emitting heat and sweat, while this man was the exact paradox of a human's existence. He smelled like… nothing. No perceivable warmth whatsoever. Your nose twitched as you tried to pick up even the faintest scents coming from him, albeit finding nothing. Master always smelled like something pleasant even with the odd things he spritzed on his suits every morning. On the days Master wore nothing to mask his scent, you luxuriated in his musk as you snuggled on his chest, pressing your nose against his nape.
Master smelled like love.
This stranger smelled like danger.
"You don't need to know about that for now." He chuckled under his breath like the very thought of exposing his identity to you would put his life in danger. Still, the mirth in his eyes hadn't faded away. The same cruel smile on his lips remained. "I'm only here to grant your wish… anything that you desire, it can be yours for a price."
Your tail swished from side to side as your ears perked up. A price? You mewled again, gazing at the man with great scrutiny. I don't need anything from you, stranger… Master is all I need.
Somehow, like your very words amused him, the intruder burst into laughter, loud enough to reverberate through Master's penthouse. Strangely, Master never woke up from the harsh sound. It was as though Master couldn't hear him at all, which unnerved your very core. The awful noise rattled your nerves and made your fur bristle, but you stood your ground and waited for him to finish his madness. This was no laughing matter; Master was truly the only person you needed, and if Master were to ever go away, then—
No. You couldn't bear to imagine it.
Master would never go away.
"There's no use lying to me, Elizabeth," he murmured your name almost as though he was making a mockery out of the very name that Master treasured. Uncrossing his legs, elbows on his knees, the man leant over to peer closer at you… letting the fuzzy glow of the tubular aquarium in Master's house highlight the frenzied flash in his eyes. "I can hear your distress. I know what you want. But… you just don't want to admit it."
No, you hissed, you don't know anything about me. Master—
"You're an intelligent cat," he surmised, tipping his head back, cleanly countering your words. "I know your Master knows about it too. But you haven't realised it yet. Your Master needs you."
His words briefly ignited anger, anger that threatened to boil over into claws and hisses and scratches and angry red welts, but as soon as you wanted to pounce on him, you couldn't. Because… it was true. Master needed you. But… why would he need you when you were always here?
As though the mysterious man fathomed the sudden confusion clouding your thoughts, he gave a brief shrug and waved absently in the air. "He's going through a tough time… but what can you do for him? You're a cat, Elizabeth, a cat," he echoed in disdain, eyes narrowing into slits, "so other than licking his fingers and pawing his clothes, what else can you do to comfort him?"
You didn't want to hear the answer.
"Nothing."
No—
"Nothing, Elizabeth, nothing," he repeated the same words, letting them resonate hollowly in the ringing silence of Master's house. "In the end, you can't talk to him. You can't even offer words to console him during his moments of great need. You'll always be there for him, but you'll be useless. And at the very end, you'll be thrown away. Because you're not a human."
Such hurtful words filled with malice and hatred. What vendetta did he hold against you? He spat out each sentence and savoured the lingering lash of pain you suffered from his words, despite not betraying any emotion at all. Just for the sake of a single wish, he'd goad you to this extent? If Master were awake and listening to this conversation, he'd scoff and put this man right where he belonged but… Master was asleep, not even once stirring from his slumber.
Even if Master wishes to throw me away, it's his decision and not yours, you mewled, your tail flicking from side to side in a show of repressed annoyance. Master knows that I—
"Elizabeth 3rd…?"
You froze, faltering to a halt.
A sleepy drawl that belonged neither to the stranger nor you. A voice you were familiar with. Master's voice.
The rustling of sheets told you of his movements; Master was already halfway getting up from his bed, pushing his body off the mattress with an arm, a fluid motion that he habitually repeats every morning. Only, he didn't stand, choosing to sit upright on the bed, feet planted firmly on the ground. The stranger quirked his eyebrows in feigned surprise at Master's movements, his expression changing from derision into one of delight at the turn of events. He slipped off the bed and stood up, pocketing his hands just as easily.
"Elizabeth 3rd," Master repeated, his voice just a touch stronger this time around, as he cranes his neck over his shoulder to search for your presence. "… where are you, Elizabeth 3rd?"
Over here, Master, you answered with a quiet mewl, padding over towards his bed. Paying no mind to the observing intruder, you leapt onto Master's bed with the true grace of a cat before plodding to him, gently rubbing your head against his side. I'm here now, Master, don't worry… I'm here.
Master's back was broad and warm. Warm, warm all over, just the way you remembered. Instinctively, you purred in pleasure as his hand easily snaked itself around your body and hoisted you into his lap. Over here, just draped over Master's thighs and basking in his warmth was almost enough to make you forget about the trespasser who lingered just a few meters away, watching in interest. Almost.
"You were mewling rather loudly," Master remarked, a sleepy yawn escaping his lips whilst he continued petting your head. "Is something wrong? Were you lonely?"
No, of course you weren't lonely. It was just that Master wouldn't understand that you were talking to the trespasser and you hadn't meant to wake him up. Still… a niggling part of your mind reminded you of what he spoke just a scant second ago: You couldn't talk to Master. You owned no voice. You were just simply… Master's pet. Even with all the mewls in the world, you wouldn't be able to offer a single justification… or comfort for Master. With a tired meow, you nestled your head against Master's palm and purred as his finger began rubbing your ear.
Master obviously expected no response from you, other than the catlike norm of a meow or a purr. Lost in his thoughts, he repeated his motions, once, twice, thrice.
"Your Master is sad," the stranger repeated from behind, a lilting glee apparent in his voice. Your ears twitched at his words, tapping your tail sporadically on Master's thighs out of irritation, but it seemed as though Master couldn't acknowledge his presence. Or rather, Master couldn't see him at all. Which was why the man spoke so brazenly now. "See now, little one? You're just being a burden to your Master because you can't do anything for him when he's done everything for you."
Not even once had Master ever spoken of you as a burden. If anything, you knew he adored you more than everything else he possessed. His medley of limousines, his Rolex watches, his tailored suits, everything he owned amounted to nothing if you weren't by his side. As Elizabeth 3rd, his pride and joy, you knew you held that much of power over him. Master cherished your every meow. And you, in turned, cherished every moment you spent with him. However… there was nothing you could do to ease his suffering.
He spent sleepless nights gently raking his fingers through your fluffy fur, mumbling bits and pieces of his memories he wished to share with you. All his troubles, his worries, his insecurities, Master chose to confide in you than anyone else. The weakest comfort you could offer was a sad mewl of acknowledgement, nosing his cheek and licking his jaw—Master, please, cheer up and be strong—and a smile would cross his lips—"Elizabeth 3rd, you always understand me," he'd mutter, returning your affection with a brief kiss on your head. Because that was how it was. And there was no changing it.
Until now.
As Master continued petting your fur, you burrowed further into his lap and closed your eyes until he spoke up again.
"Elizabeth 3rd…" Master murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as though he was afraid of breaking the silence. "What happened during lunch today was something out of my hindsight."
Lunch. Master's relationship with his father was something akin to his pride, being able to hold a solid bond with someone he greatly respected. After returning from each meeting with his father, he'd hold a certain amount of contentment that only a familial relationship could fulfil. But today, Master seemed different. He turned in early for the night, tossing and turning on his bed until sleep finally consumed him wholly, and you sat on the sofa watching his fitful slumber.
Master seldom shared his thoughts with anyone else, careful to keep a lid on his emotions as the days turned to months, months turned to years, and years into decades. To hear this raw edge in Master's voice unsettled your nerves.
Master? You warily raised your head, mewling low. Pressing a paw against his torso, you looked upwards, taking in his sharp jawline illuminated by the dim aquarium glow, tracing the sorrow reflected in his eyes. Master? You mewled again, pawing him gently this time, hoping to find a response. Is something wrong?
"Glam Choi's influence over my father is strong… something I shouldn't underestimate," Master mused, absentmindedly running his finger from your ear over the bridge of your nose. All the while, the stagnant silence permeated in the penthouse as the observing stranger made no further moves, seemingly waiting for Master to finish his words. "As usual, my father has been blinded by her incessant flattery. It's the same cycle over and over again, Elizabeth 3rd. This same vicious cycle of money-hungry women finding my father and wooing him over with their sweet words… it'll never end unless my father takes the first step."
Hushed silence fell.
Master absently continued stroking your fur.
Only the stranger seemed to find sick pleasure in this situation, reminding you of what could be yours.
"I know what you want, little one… you wish to be of some help to your beloved Master, am I right?"
No… you mewl this time, but the denial was but a fragile sound of a lie.
And the man saw through it, clear as glass. "'Oh, if only I were a human, I'd be able to do so much more for Master,' am I right?"
Master's fingers weighed heavily over your head, your ears, your nose, a reminder of how hefty were the burdens he shouldered each day. A burden too heavy, he could share with no one other than you. You were his diary, his secret keeper, his beloved. His beloved Elizabeth 3rd.
"There's nothing to be ashamed of, Elizabeth." The man shook his head, blue bangs partially masking the demented glint in his eyes. "I've made many miracles happen before… from cats to rabbits to dolls, everything on Earth has a wish only I can listen to. And once your wish is granted, you'll realise how much you can do for him with your own two hands."
Hands. Not paws.
Doing something for Master was a dream that would never come true. You were a cat and he was a human. Doing something for him with your tiny paws and unintelligible meows wouldn't amount to anything solid enough for Master's sake. Somehow… a reasonable part of yourself knew the stranger was right. He'd been right all along. Gradually, your eyes slipped close, almost as though you were accepting the inevitable defeat coming for you.
It didn't surprise Master at all. "Getting sleepy, Elizabeth 3rd? Then maybe we should both continue resting. It won't be good for you to get insufficient sleep."
Ah, this was the part you loved the most. Master's firm grasp habitually manoeuvred him into a resting position on the bed once more, lying on his back. And with a gentleness that he only reserved for you, because you were his and only his, because you were his prized possession, because you were his treasured pet, he carefully lowers you on his chest, letting you rest there for the night. It wasn't uncomfortable at all. It just felt… right. Just lying curled up on Master's chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing lull you to sleep, soaking in his comforting warmth.
And just feeling him.
"Sleep well, princess," said Master, his voice thickly swathed with drowsiness. "Good night, may you rest well…"
The lasts of your thoughts were a hazy jumble of wishes, buried wishes finally being unearthed for the first time.
When he was a child, his mother would press him into her side, cradling him close. "Jumin," she said, "be careful not to get a cold." He remembered the way she'd tuck his chin right in the crook of her arm, gently holding him as the clock ticks away seconds, minutes, and eventually hours into the night. He couldn't recall when he fell asleep because the morning after was always the same; a cold bed, devoid of any human warmth from the night before, and a maid knocking persistently on the door, asking him to wake up.
It'd been many years since he woke up warm all over with a weight on his chest and a hand coiled around his.
Sunlight sliced through the Seoul skyscrapers and fell in fragments over his face. There was still biting coldness over his feet thanks to the centralized AC in his penthouse, but a spot of concentrated warmth over his torso made him incredibly forgiving towards the discomfort he suffered. Heavy, yes, a little hard for him to breathe, yes again, but it had been so long since he was this... content with waking up at ungodly hours in the morning.
It must've been Elizabeth 3rd, he surmised, vaguely recalling how he placed her on his chest last night as the sandman lulled them to sleep.
His hand automatically shot out to give her a morning petting, yet, instead of meeting sun-warmed fur and a wet nose, he found himself running his fingers through silken straight hair belonging on a very hard, very human skull.
Cracking an eye open, Jumin stared at a spot of whiteness obscuring his vision. Hair. Hair. And lots of hair, trailing over his chest, his arm, tousled all over his sheets. Unless he was dreaming, he was rather certain it was Elizabeth he placed on the exact same spot and certainly not a nightmare manifesting in the shape of Zen. Jumin stared at the head for a few seconds, calculating the possibility of his eyes playing tricks on him. Which, after a few more seconds of contemplation, he found utterly impossible and downright ridiculous.
Affixed to a spot and unable to move, he gazed at the visible features of the strange person lying on top of him. Aside from fine white hair draping over him like a blanket, he caught a hint of bare shoulder exposed for him to stare. Decidedly curious, his dark eyes followed the trail of white hair and bare shoulder... only to find them attached to a curved spine, bare back, and a hardly clothed bottom, whose pale skin and supple rosiness betrayed the gender. A woman's. And definitely not a nightmarish Zen.
Was this a wet dream?
No, that can't be it.
It had been too long since he last experienced something as juvenile as that, not to mention how realistic this turned out to be. Her fingers were tangled in his over the bed, soft and sticky after being pressed together for so long, and when he gave an experimental twitch to his fingers, she responded with a curl of her own. How... odd. How… familiar.
Jumin supposed he spent too long looking for answers when there was none to be found if he stayed silent like this. With his free hand, he gave her an experimental shake on the shoulder.
"Wake up."
No response. Only a sleepy mumble and a deeper burrowing of her head on his chest.
Furrowing his brows, Jumin tried again. "Wake up."
This time, he succeeded in provoking a response, albeit it comes with another sleepy mumble and a soft shake of her head. Still, she stirred from her slumber and that was all he needs to know that this wasn't a dream. It was anything but a dream when she gave a light stretch, throatily moaning her contentment, before tossing around blearily to meet his gaze. One part of Jumin's mind was ready to chew her out for breaking into his penthouse and having the audacity to even share the same bed with him like some harlot from the streets. But the moment she fluttered her white lashes, a stray tongue wetting her lips, the questions in Jumin's mouth died in his throat.
Blue eyes.
Eyes so blue, so familiar, as though he spent an eternity gazing into those glassy orbs and watching them open and close, open and close, open and close each day. The sunlight mirrored in her eyes glistened clear, reflecting the morning skies dotted with clusters of clouds. He had seen them before.
Those very blue eyes belonged to his cat, and certainly not on this woman. Yet his denials couldn't come fast enough to counter the words she utter.
"Good morning, Master..."
Notes:
For those of you who've played Dandelion and Nameless, you should know who the stranger is. :) There's no telling what he's up to this time, because he'll definitely make a comeback. And despite the Reader being 'Elizabeth 3rd', it isn't quite Elizabeth... ;D But it's too early for spoilers now.
This is an experimental fic taking place in Jumin's story from day 3 onwards, delving into Jumin's psyche and how he shares a bond with Elizabeth. Somehow to me, Elizabeth seemed like a really intelligent cat despite being mischievous (like all cats are). So this piece of fanfiction is probably going to be deep, dealing with Jumin's problems… (but hey, there'll be smut too lol who can say no to smut). Thanks for reading and if you like how it went, feel free to drop a review!
Next time on His Paper Garden of Madness:
He paused. Abruptly, the hand caressing behind your ear disappeared, only to reappear around your throat. His fingers fluttered up the column of your neck, tracing a delicate trail past your bobbing throat, stopping under your chin. Master's expert touch invited yet another breathy sound past your lips, something that made him pause for a fraction of second, before he began running his fingers under your chin, resting his thumb on your bottom lip.