Whistle blows.
"Cover, TWO! Right step, MARCH! Up and down, REPEAT!"
The Sun was barely awake, and the birds' chirping awaited.
"Their training is vastly better evolved than ours."
"No wonder we get our asses kicked every time." Taehyung chuckles.
They walked on the footpath, getting a glimpse of their rivals- I mean "guests" training. It was bizarre for them to endure the aspect that a Lord, to be precise, was teaching his troops.
"Sir. Seokjin, have our guests been treated fairly?"
He smudges his lips on top of each other, with disappointment overlapping his face.
"Some of our troops planned for an attack. Thankfully, they got caught before the act took place."
I shall repeat myself once more. Rivals. Hatred was bestowed deep within their hearts without any argumentation. They were born to hate. History with aches is all they know, forgetting the ardor and compassion they once had- forgetting that they were once one.
A Lord from that Kingdom, giving his shoulder? How ironic.
"Nothing awaits but Death for the traitors." Taehyung implied.
Seokjin nodded. Political issues should never be one's whole impression of the living people. Faithfully, they are innocent.
Taehyung observes the troops intentively, but the one training them certainly takes more than just his attention. His posture, running, wetness all over his body in the heat, his veins popping out, hair flipped back every second, and the way he positions his lips for breath- by God, this man needs to cool down.
"Doesn't he look hot?" Finally, he said it.
Jin observed. He crimsoned. His eyes magnetized, not allowing himself to be detached.
"Man, his blonde hair suits him."
Blonde hair?
Taehyung perplexes at his reply and looks at him repeatedly, making sure he isn't color blind.
"Seokjin, you seem unwell. Your breath is making me gag. I don't suggest you've been drinking again."
He tries to understand his question, ignoring the factor he offended him in 24 different languages.
"Pardon- "
"His hair isn't blonde."
Jin takes a glance at the troops once again and comes to his realization.
"Ahh, I'm talking about the Commander." He points at him with his index finger half-bent, giving Taehyung a clear view of who he's been drooling over.
Taehyung shapes his lips into a circle, realizing he's talking about the man who makes him the most envious.
"Who is it you were mentioning?"
"Oh, it's-" he pauses. Fuck, he saw me looking at him.
His body starts heating up. His face gets drenched in the deepest shade of red. He turns to his back, clenching Jin's arm tightly. He winces and mutters cusses, pulling his hand close to his mouth, finger on top of his bottom lip, biting his fingernail out of anxiousness.
"Is everything alright?"
No, you idiot.
"Ay, Jimin!" Namjoon exclaims, running towards Jimin, gasping for air.
"I know you're into BDSM. But don't get too hardcore on the training. We can't fucking get up."
Jimin closes the bottle, taking in a few breaths before speaking,
