The Art of Villainy (SEVENTEEN)
Little Moments, Bigger Meaning
The Choi estate had never felt this alive.
In the days leading up to the Spring Lantern Festival, the Choi estate had transformed into a hive of color and laughter. Silks of every hue floated from terrace rails, floral garlands were strung from gate to garden, and the scent of sweet rice cakes lingered in the air like a promise.
For the first time in years, the Choi household hosted another noble family under its roof.
Lord Hoseok and his son Jisoo arrived with quiet dignity. Jisoo, dressed in soft pastels and silver-threaded robes, bowed deeply to every servant, every elder. But he didn’t just bow; he smiled. Gently. Earnestly. And that made all the difference
From the moment he stepped into the estate, he became a soft presence woven into its rhythm.
Jin murmured one morning, placing a bundle of fabric into Jisoo's arms as she adjusted a crimson lantern overhead.
Jung Jisoo/Joshua
Like this?
Jung Jisoo/Joshua
(Tilted his head, holding it carefully)
Choi seokjin
(Smiled) You're good at this.
Jung Jisoo/Joshua
I watched you for two days
Jung Jisoo/Joshua
(Bit shyly) You make it look easy
They worked in comfortable silence, occasionally brushing shoulders. Jisoo tied ribbons, folded papers into decorative charms, and helped arrange flower baskets with a delicate touch. Servants whispered to one another, surprised
The first time Seungcheol and Jisoo had a proper chat was on the second morning, when Seungcheol found himself standing by the koi pond, watching the fish swim lazily beneath the still water.
Jisoo approached quietly, his footsteps soft on the gravel path. He smiled shyly when he saw Seungcheol.
Jung Jisoo/Joshua
Good morning, Lord Seungcheol.
Choi Seungcheol
(Nodded, a half-smile forming on his lips) Morning, Jisoo. You seem to like this pond.
Jung Jisoo/Joshua
(Glanced at the water, his expression thoughtful) It’s peaceful.
Seungcheol’s gaze softened. He hadn’t realized, but he’d come to find the same sense of peace in the estate—something he hadn’t felt in a long time. The quiet spaces between them felt less awkward now, as if something unspoken was beginning to form.
Grandmother Choi adored him. From the moment she saw his embroidery work—small sakura blossoms stitched with near-microscopic care—she had declared him an artist.
She often said, patting the mat beside her.
There, side by side in the sunlit courtyard, she taught him stitches passed down for generations. Jisoo, nimble and patient, learned quickly. He stitched a pair of cranes flying beneath a crescent moon.
Grandma Choi
(Whispered) For Cheol
Jung Jisoo/Joshua
(Looked up, startled) Seungcheol?
Grandma Choi
He likes the sky. But he never slows down long enough to watch it.
Later, General Namjoon caught Jisoo in the greenhouse, kneeling beside Grandmother Choi, who was guiding his hands in silk embroidery. The general leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, amused.
General Choi Namjoon
You have steady fingers for someone so young
Namjoon noted, watching the careful stitches.
Jung Jisoo/Joshua
(smiled shyly) Grandmother Choi said if I’m going to be around, I should learn the household patterns.
General Choi Namjoon
She already claimed you, did she?
General Choi Namjoon
(Chuckled, stepping into the sunlit room) Careful. She might make you stay.
Jung Jisoo/Joshua
I wouldn’t mind
Jisoo said, almost without thinking. Then he blushed.
Jung Jisoo/Joshua
I mean... It’s peaceful here.
General Choi Namjoon
(Raised a brow) And loud back home?
Jung Jisoo/Joshua
Different
Jung Jisoo/Joshua
(Softly) Father is always busy. The palace halls feel... wide.
Namjoon’s gaze softened. He sat beside him and asked about the court, about what Jisoo liked to read, about what colors he preferred for embroidery. It wasn’t stiff. It wasn’t formal.
Just... a father figure without the weight of expectations.
The afternoon sun stretched lazily across the courtyard, casting soft light over the stone paths and wooden railings. The house was unusually quiet—most of the staff had taken the chance to rest, and for once, there were no duties pulling either of them away.
Jisoo sat with his legs dangling off the edge of the porch, swinging them slowly, watching the wind play with the loose end of his robe. Seungcheol was leaning against a post beside him, chewing on a thin stick of dried fruit.
Jung Jisoo/Joshua
Bet I could hide from you and you wouldn’t find me
Choi Seungcheol
(Raised an eyebrow) You? Hide from me?
Jung Jisoo/Joshua
(Grinned and finally looked at him) You’re slow when you’re relaxed.
Choi Seungcheol
Oh, you’re on
Choi Seungcheol
(Stretching his arms) You have ten seconds.
Jisoo squeaked and took off barefoot across the courtyard before Seungcheol could finish counting.
That night, they ended up sitting on the kitchen steps with small bowls of leftover dumplings, munching quietly.
Jung Jisoo/Joshua
Did you always get to play like this when you were younger?
Choi Seungcheol
(Shook his head) No. Too much training. Too many expectations.
Jung Jisoo/Joshua
(Nodded slowly)Me too.
A quiet moment passed, comfortable.
It was happening quietly, naturally—without either of them fully realizing it. Between the teasing, the shared meals, the silly games, and the late-night talks, something real was blooming. Not something forced by circumstance or built on old titles or public roles, but something honest. A friendship, first and foremost. A safe place. Somewhere between hiding behind curtains and sharing the last dumpling, Seungcheol and Joshua had started forgetting the world outside—the weight of expectations, the chaos of their schedules, the versions of themselves they had to be in front of others. Without knowing it, they were building something gentle and genuine. Something just for them.
“Even if I can’t name what’s growing between us, I know I don’t want it to stop.”
Author
hope you are enjoying the story ad well the new album of seventeen as well
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