The rebel crown prince Jeon Jungkook, starts to feel something special towards the slave dancer Park Jimin.
Two of them living in completely different worlds. While the crown prince of Seoulvenia, Jeon Jungkook, wants freedom from his entitled roya...
Jungkook mumbled the name softly, almost to himself, as his eyes traced the photos Seok Jin had sent him.
He didn’t even realize a hazy, faint smile had appeared on his lips.
"Jimin…" he repeated, whispering the name as if tasting it for the first time. "It means… 'Beautiful Person'…"
He lingered over the photos for a few minutes, scanning the way Jimin’s sharp eyes commanded the stage, how the silk fabric flowed around him, how the dancer seemed impossibly light on his feet.
'Well… it suits him…'
A deep, tired sigh escaped Jungkook’s lips. His eyelids grew heavy, the exhaustion from the day settling like a weight over his body. From dawn, he hadn’t caught even a blink between the palace preparations, the ceremony, the greetings, and the never-ending pomp of the celebration.
The phone still in his hand, he sank deeper into the pillows, Jimin’s image glowing softly on the screen. Slowly, sleep claimed him.
---
Suddenly, the vibration of the phone jolted him awake.
"AH! FUCK!" Jungkook hissed, sitting up with a frown.
'Who the hell is messaging at this hour? Aren’t they exhausted from the party too?'
He squinted at the screen, half asleep, and his irritation grew when he saw the name lighting up the screen.
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