"Late again." My voice rang out, firm and unwavering, as I eyed the young man standing before me—his expression the very picture of casual indifference.  

"This is your seventh time, Jiwon," I continued, arms crossed.  

Ten years. A whole decade had passed in the blink of an eye, and somehow, here I was, now in my late twenties, still dealing with the same student—though he was no longer the small, mischievous child who once tried to bargain for an extra minute of freedom.  

Prince Jiwon had grown. Taller than me now, with a lean, athletic build that suited his royal stature. If only his brain had grown as much as his body. But alas, I often felt that all my years of teaching had been in vain—whatever knowledge I tried to instill in him seemed to slip right through his fingers like grains of sand.  

"Ahh, seonsaengnim, it was only five minutes," Jiwon drawled, stretching as if he’d just rolled out of bed. "Besides, I was late for a good reason. Father was writing a letter for you—here."  

He held out a neatly rolled scroll, his lips curving into a suspiciously innocent smile. My eyes narrowed. Something about that grin didn’t sit right with me.  

"A letter? From His Majesty?" I echoed, reaching for the scroll. "Fine. I’ll let you off the hook *this* time."  

Jiwon smirked as he slipped past me and into the study, moving with the ease of a man who had successfully evaded a lecture. That alone should have been my warning.  

Curiosity got the better of me. I unrolled the scroll, my eyes scanning the contents—only for them to widen in sheer horror.  

What greeted me was *not* the elegant script of the king. Oh no. Instead, my gaze landed on an *intimate* illustration—so explicit that my entire face burned with a mixture of fury and embarrassment.  

There were no words. Only a strangled sound of pure disbelief.  

My head snapped up just in time to see Jiwon collapse onto the ground, laughing so hard he could barely breathe.  

"*You absolute menace!*" I roared, hurling the scroll across the room like it had personally offended me.  

Jiwon, still laughing, wiped at his eyes. "Your face—! Seonsaengnim, I swear, I have never seen you turn that shade of red before!"  

"That’s because I’ve never had to deal with a *walking disaster* like you before!"  

He only laughed harder, his shoulders shaking with delight. I made a mental note to find a suitable punishment for him—one that would wipe that smug grin right off his face.  

Jiwon was still laughing when his eyes flickered toward the discarded scroll lying unceremoniously on the floor. He gasped dramatically, clutching his chest as if I had committed an unforgivable crime.  

"Seonsaengnim! How could you toss such a *masterpiece* so carelessly?" he exclaimed, shaking his head in disappointment. "That was *art*—true craftsmanship! The details! The passion! The—"  

"One hundred times," I cut him off.  

Jiwon blinked. "Huh?"  

I crossed my arms. "You will write, *'I will not waste my teacher’s time with nonsense,'* one hundred times."  

His face contorted in exaggerated horror. "One hundred?! Seonsaengnim, that’s *cruel!*"  

"What’s cruel is forcing me to witness *that* filth," I said, jabbing a finger toward the fallen scroll. "Now, unless you’d like to make it two hundred, I suggest you start writing."  

Jiwon groaned, dragging himself to the desk like a prisoner marching to his execution. With a heavy sigh, he dipped his brush in ink and began scratching out the first line.  

For the first ten or so repetitions, he was oddly silent. But then, predictably, the whining began.  

"Seonsaengnim," he called out pitifully.  

"No," I said without looking up.  

"You don’t even know what I was going to say!"  

"And yet, I know the answer is still no."  

Jiwon groaned louder, slumping over his parchment. "I was just going to ask if you’d forgive me so I wouldn’t have to finish this."  

I scoffed. "Do I look that merciful to you?"  

He let out another dramatic sigh, scribbling a few more lines before the room fell into relative quiet.  

Time passed, and I busied myself with my own work, only occasionally glancing at Jiwon to make sure he wasn’t attempting some new form of mischief. But the next time I looked up, I found him slumped over the desk, brush still in hand, his head resting against his folded arms.  

Fast asleep.  

For a moment, I simply stared.  

Jiwon had always been a source of frustration, constantly testing my patience with his antics. But now, in the stillness of the library, without his usual smirk or playful defiance, he looked… peaceful. His lashes cast faint shadows on his cheeks, his breathing slow and even. The candlelight softened his features, making him appear almost serene—so unlike the troublemaker I had come to know.  

With a quiet sigh, I stood and retrieved a spare blanket, draping it over his shoulders. He barely stirred, only shifting slightly as he burrowed into the warmth.  

Shaking my head, I returned to my documents.  

The night deepened, and the library remained silent except for the faint scratching of my brush against parchment. It wasn’t until much later that Jiwon finally stirred, blinking drowsily as he sat up and stretched.  

"Did I fall asleep…?" he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.  

"You did," I replied without looking up.  

Jiwon looked around, frowning. "Wait… why am I still in the library? Shouldn’t I be in my chambers?"  

At that, I finally glanced at him. "You’ll be staying here for the night."  

His brows furrowed. "Why?"  

"Because His Majesty and the Queen have left the kingdom for official matters," I explained. "They’ve entrusted me with you until they return."  

Jiwon stared at me for a long moment before a slow, mischievous grin crept onto his lips.  

"So, you’re my babysitter now?"  

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "I already regret telling you."  

Jiwon stretched his arms with a loud yawn before lazily propping his chin on the desk, watching me intently. I ignored him, continuing to scribble away at my documents, but his gaze was relentless.  

"Seonsaengnim," he called in that familiar sing-song voice—the one that always meant trouble.  

I sighed but didn’t look up. "No."  

"You don’t even know what I was going to say!"  

"And yet, I already know it’s something foolish," I replied flatly.  

Jiwon huffed and leaned closer, his elbows on the desk, his face much too near for my liking. "Come on, seonsaengnim, stop working for a bit. Let’s do something fun instead."  

I gave him a blank stare. "Fun?"  

"Yes, fun," he said as if I were an old man who had forgotten the concept entirely. "You know… something *not* related to those boring scrolls."  

"You are not a child anymore, Jiwon," I reminded him. "Surely you don’t need me to entertain you."  

He smirked. "Oh? But I *liked* it when you used to entertain me."  

I paused, my brush stilling on the parchment as his words hung in the air. His tone was light, teasing—but there was something in the way he looked at me, a glint in his dark eyes that hadn’t been there when he was younger.  

"You were a child back then," I muttered, returning my focus to my documents. "I had no choice."  

"But now you do," Jiwon said smoothly, resting his cheek against his palm. "So why don’t you choose to indulge me just this once, hmm?"  

I exhaled sharply, shaking my head. "Jiwon, if you have nothing better to do, go to bed."  

"Or…" He suddenly reached forward, plucking the brush straight from my fingers before I could react. "You could stop being so stiff and—"  

"Jiwon," I warned.  

He only grinned wider, holding the brush just out of my reach. "Just a short break, seonsaengnim. You can’t possibly find these documents more interesting than me."  

I moved to grab it, but he was faster—leaning back just enough to keep it away. His laughter was soft, taunting, and before I knew it, I found myself leaning over the desk, reaching for it.  

A mistake.  

I realized too late how close I had gotten—our faces mere inches apart, his breath warm against my skin. The playful grin he had been wearing faltered for just a second, his fingers still loosely holding my brush.  

I should have pulled away. I *meant* to pull away. But for that brief moment, I didn’t move. Neither did he.  

"Seonsaengnim," he murmured, his voice quieter now. Less teasing.  

I swallowed, breaking the spell by swiftly snatching the brush from his fingers. "Go. To. Bed."  

Jiwon blinked, then, to my dismay, a slow smirk returned to his lips. "You're blushing."  

"I am *not.*"  

"You so are," he chuckled, finally leaning back. "Alright, alright. I’ll spare you—for now."