THE HIDDEN ROSE | Taekook

18. Who Sent You?

The clinking of cutlery against plates filled the air as the group settled into the dining room. The table, a large rectangular piece of dark mahogany, was set with a variety of dishes, everything from scrambled eggs and toast to rice, grilled chicken, and fresh fruit. The maids had outdone themselves, preparing a meal that was both grand and comforting.

Taehyung, sitting close to Jungkook, nibbled at a piece of toast, his cheeks still tinged pink from the earlier teasing. Jungkook was seated beside him, his arm draped protectively over the back of Taehyung’s chair. Despite the relaxed pose, Jungkook’s sharp gaze moved over the room, assessing everyone present.

“So,” Jin began, breaking the silence as he spread butter on his toast. “I assume everyone survived last night without too many bruises?”

Namjoon chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Define ‘too many.’ I’m pretty sure Yoongi has a cracked rib.”

“I’m fine,” Yoongi interjected, his tone as flat as ever. He speared a piece of grilled chicken with his fork. “It’s just a scratch.”

Hoseok raised an eyebrow, smirking. “A scratch? You could barely breathe when we got back. Don’t downplay it, hyung.”

Yoongi shot him a glare but said nothing, focusing instead on his plate.

Jimin, seated next to Hoseok, leaned forward with a grin. “You know, I was almost offended that I didn’t get to join the mission last night.” He pouted dramatically, his tone teasing. “I could’ve been helpful.”

Jungkook’s eyes flicked to Jimin, his expression hardening. “You were exactly where you needed to be.”

“Babysitting duty?”, Jimin quipped, glancing at Taehyung, who blinked at him in confusion.

“Protecting Taehyung,” Jungkook corrected, his voice dropping a notch. “Which is more important than any mission.”

The weight of Jungkook’s words silenced the teasing for a moment. Everyone in the room understood the significance of Taehyung to Jungkook, even if some couldn’t resist poking fun.

“Still,” Jimin muttered after a pause, “you could’ve left me with something exciting to do.”

“Next time, you’ll be out there,” Heejin said, her tone sharp but not unkind. She poured herself a cup of coffee, her eyes briefly meeting Jimin’s. “But last night wasn’t just about sending a message. It was about control. And that’s something we can’t afford to lose.”

Taehyung shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his gaze darting between the faces at the table. “Did... something bad happen?” he asked softly, his voice almost drowned out by the clinking plates.

Jungkook’s hand immediately moved to cover Taehyung’s, grounding him. “Nothing you need to worry about,” he said firmly.

“Just a few pests needing extermination,” Yoongi added, his tone nonchalant. “Nothing we couldn’t handle.”

Jin cleared his throat, attempting to lighten the mood. “Enough about missions and exterminations. Let’s focus on breakfast. Did anyone try the orange marmalade? It’s heavenly.”

Hoseok snorted, leaning back in his chair. “You’re the only one who cares about marmalade, hyung.”

“Good taste is an art,” Jin shot back, pretending to be offended.

The banter continued, the tension easing as the group fell into a rhythm of light conversation. Taehyung, encouraged by the shift in tone, began eating more, though his eyes frequently flicked to Jungkook for reassurance.