prince of petals

a bite of whatever you're having

Flowers has always been one of Taehyung's favourite subjects. He likes to go out for long walks in forests, flower fields, on mountains, by the sea, anywhere where he could hope to find a new type of flower, and he likes to pick them up. He picks them up and puts them in his so called flower holder, creatively named after its usage of safely keeping flowers. It's just a small sized wooden box, but the word "holder" sounds better, more interesting than boring old box. He likes to keep the flowers in the sacred flower holder—only a single one for each new sort he discovers, mind you— and he presses them. Presses them real flat, and sometimes, he puts them in glass frames and hangs them up. They are simply too beautiful not to, he thinks.

If they are too big to press, like tulips for instance, he simply takes the stem and some pedals and lay them down all nice and pretty and press them instead.

Flowers cover Taehyung's bedroom wall, and he wouldn't have it any other way, no he wouldn't. As well as a hobby and time-consumer, they are also a great distraction. Distraction from his mother, his job, his duties. He likes to think if he manages to press every single type of flower naturally grown in Korea, he can quit his job, maybe live his life as a flower expert. Not that it's realistic in the slightest, as quitting a job one's born into would prove to be quite difficult, if even possible. Still, it's an intriguing thought. Exciting, even.

He doesn't hate his life, far from it really, but it can be real tiring. Not being able to go outside his house without a bodyguard or five, not having any real friends outside of other royalty or nepotism babies who think they're all that, because everyone else thinks you're too important or high-maintenance. Constantly having someone in your ear telling you what not to do, not to mention always having to be professional and on guard. A real work-out, Taehyung thinks. His flowers could be some sort of escapism, he would say.

He even has a book, which is more of a journal, where he logs down these flowers. He's got a whole lot, and he's immensely proud of it, although he doesn't show it to anyone. No one else cares about flowers as much as him. He thinks–he knows. It's not some sort competition for him, it's simply a fact. Never in his life has anyone showed interest in his framed plum blossom, or azalea, so he figures no one truly cares for flowers the way he does. And that's fine by him.

It's almost 6 a.m., and Taehyung has some day ahead of him. Gentle streaks of light brighten his surroundings in their warm, yellow state.  Taehyung rubs his face, the drowsiness slowly leaving his droopy eyes. In a few minutes, a maid will knock on his door to wake him, gently ask him to get ready for breakfast, and wait right outside his door until he opens it. He glances at the alarm-clock, which tells him he has approximately seven and a half minutes until she arrives. He wants to get ready before that, figures it'll lighten his mood for the day. He's always found the knocking rather irritating, without a clue as to why.

Well, about seven and a half minutes later, he stands upright in a plain t-shirt, zip up hoodie and some jeans. Not the most extravagant outfit he owns, but it'll do for today. He shuffles towards his bedroom door, the exit, and opens it right as a maid turns the corner, heading for his room from the right. Hah, he thinks and gives himself a mental high five.

"Good morning sir, ", he hears from his right side, "you're up early, your mother told me you'd never be awake at this hour." she says soft. The maid has an unusual voice, and as Taehyung looks up and really studies her face, he realises that he does not recognise her. Lifting an eyebrow, he asks with curiosity: "Who are you?". The newcomer slightly widens her eyes, but covers her face with a pleasant smile. "My name is Mi-young, I was hired two months ago along with my brother. I've mainly been serving your mother, so that might explain your unawareness of me." Taehyung doesn't pay much attention to her answer, as he is too busy studying her even closer. Her full lips, her long nose, her round eyes— she has a mole underneath her right eye— her rosy cheeks. She's pretty.