The Black rose (Minsung ff)

Bliss

Jisung woke up, blinking against the soft sunlight filtering through the elegant curtains in a room that wasn't his. It took him a moment to remember where he was—the White Rose mansion. He stretched under the plush sheets and glanced around. The room was stunning, almost on par with his own at the Black Rose mansion—lavish decorations, large windows, and furniture that screamed luxury. Though, this wasn't home, and it felt different. More... peaceful.

He sighed, rolling out of bed, his feet sinking into the thick carpet as he padded toward the door. His bare feet made no sound as he wandered through the hallways, admiring the art that lined the walls, the high ceilings, and the immaculate design. Everything about the White Rose mansion seemed just a bit softer, less intimidating than the Black Rose mansion—though he supposed that had more to do with the people inside than the actual decor.

As he descended the grand staircase, he noticed something: the security here was almost as tight as the Black Rose mansion's, though not quite. There were guards posted at every corner, alert and ready. It wasn't like how things used to be before... the incident. Now, at home, security had been doubled, tripled, especially around Jisung. He couldn't go anywhere without a full team watching his every move.

Jisung sighed again, missing the days when he could wander freely without anyone hovering. But that wasn't his life anymore, not after everything that happened.

When he reached the first floor, the sound of voices and laughter drifted from the kitchen. His curiosity piqued, Jisung followed the noise, his mood instantly lightening as he neared.

"Of course, you're burning it," Seungmin's voice cut through the air as Jisung rounded the corner.

"I'm not burning it!" Hyunjin snapped back, holding a spatula in one hand and a frying pan in the other, glaring at the slightly charred remains of what used to be eggs.

"You're literally burning the eggs," Felix chimed in, chuckling as he leaned casually against the counter.

Hyunjin scoffed dramatically. "They're 'crispy,' not 'burnt.' There's a difference!"

"Sure," Jeongin added dryly, flipping through a magazine at the kitchen table. "You could serve those as charcoal."

"Listen, I didn't ask for this abuse—"

"And yet, here you are getting roasted in more ways than one," Changbin teased, grinning as he sipped on his coffee.

Jisung leaned against the doorframe, a smile tugging at his lips as he watched them. This was the White Roses—chaotic, loud, and a little dysfunctional—but somehow, in the best way possible.

"Morning, losers," Jisung finally announced his presence, pushing off the doorframe and strolling into the kitchen.

"Speak for yourself, Sungie," Hyunjin shot back instantly, not missing a beat. "You're the one who showed up late last night with bruises like you're auditioning for a street fight."

"Trust me, you didn't look much better," Jisung replied with a smirk, sliding into a chair next to Felix. "What's for breakfast? Besides... ash."

Hyunjin glared at him, though there was no real heat behind it. "I don't need this kind of negativity in my life."

"Well, then maybe don't try to feed people carbon," Seungmin muttered, taking the pan from Hyunjin's hand and dumping its contents into the trash. "I'll take over before we all end up poisoned."

"Rude," Hyunjin said, flipping his hair dramatically. "You should be grateful I even attempted to cook for you peasants."

"Oh, we're so grateful, Hyunjin hyung," Felix said sarcastically, patting Hyunjin on the back. "So, so grateful that we're getting rid of all your food."