:Silver Lined Bones:

A PLAGUE's FARe 4

It isn’t import—”

“His left earlobe," Jungkook rasps. "I bit it off and spat it back at him.”

“Jungkook!”

Then, and lighting fast, Jungkook drops his head again with a flinch. The chopsticks rattle on the table. He snatches a napkin as his hands fly out of view under the table. “My apologies, my kin—”

Taehyung and everyone in the dining room jolt at the rambunctious laughter that erupts out of Junhyun. The latter slams a palm on the table and his hilarity is mirrored by Dahee who joins him with a pleased chuckle. Taehyung smiles as well, partially because of the puzzlement on the Queen and King’s face.

“My! I like this boy!"

“So do I.” Dahee presents a hand toward Jungkook. “Hello again, dear.”

Jungkook stares at the extended limb for a second before shaking it and letting go. “I’m— Hi?”

“Pleased to properly make your acquaintance,” Dahee says with a knowing smile.

“My deepest apologies for his rudeness." Seohyung's words are clipped and so painfully wrenched out of her mouth that Taehyung has to press his lips into a thin line and look at the ceiling to quell down his laughter. “He is usually well-behaved.”

“Nonsense,” Junhyun disregards, standing to also shake hands with a bewildered Jungkook, the Prince’s eyes ever so slightly widened and eyebrows raised on his forehead.

“Indeed, Darling,” Dahee grins. “We have no trouble with ‘rudeness’, so to speak. We appreciate it, contrary to forged appearances. We are especially thankful for Jungkook’s honesty.”

Taehyung picks up his chopsticks, twirling one between his fingers. He rests his chin in the palm of his left.

The something that perplexes Taehyung is here anew.

It’s the way Jungkook moves, Taehyung slowly begins to unravel. The Prince’s demeanor is demure at all times: chin lowered, shoulders slightly withdrawn in themselves, gaze avoidant. Additionally, Jungkook looks at his interlocutors with coyness a certain coyness.

Taehyung stills as he's hit by a belated revelation.

The Prince plays a role.

He makes himself look small, for lack of a better term, but Taehyung sees beyond this.

Taehyung assumes that this impersonation is the result of a strict, perhaps abusive upbringing. But this isn’t enough. There’s another thing the Prince is keeping hushed and that he buries under this pretense of harmlessness and complacency. Taehyung doesn’t know why he’s so convinced in this matter, but he has always been a fairly good judge of character.

Right now, as his eyes are riveted on the Prince, Taehyung can catch onto the danger that Jungkook can represent. It’s enhanced by the earlobe tale and the shimmers of violent vindication that had gleamed in Jungkook’s eyes at the retelling.

Taehyung wishes that he could see through the wood of the table, or make himself invisible to hunch under it and verify if his observation had been a trick of the candles’ light or not

As though Jungkook has heard his request, the Prince’s hands find their place back around their cutlery.

Taehyung’s inquisitive eyes zero-in on them. A hum rumbles in his chest. Of prudence and curiosity. There are crescents carved in Jungkook’s right palm. They’re pink and raw with leftover smudges of blood faint enough to be imperceptible to a distracted eye, but Taehyung is anything but that at present, and he says “Should I worry about losing an ear if we’re to marry?”