Silver Wings {Jungkook x Reader}

FOURTEEN

I stomp down the lengthy corridor, a brown paper bag weighed with food swinging in my tightly-closed fist as I make my way back to Jungkook's room. I grumble under my breath, mumbled profanities leaving my lips as I curse Jungkook for not only interrupting my precious sleep, but awaking me for something that he could easily achieve himself. Once I had gotten to the dining hall, I had flinched slightly at the mouthwatering scents that leaked from the delectable food piled high on the extremely extended table, waiting patiently to come and be collected by hungry residents of the palace. After making a few quick assumptions, I had shoved an array of food in a stray paper bag and began the journey back up the winding staircase to the residential hallway.

"Damn demon," I growl. "Making me go all the way down to the dining hall at early-as-fuck-o-clock in the morning."

My feet carry me to his bedroom door, ignoring the begging of my brain to take me to a different location. Well, if I don't do what he says, then this will only make things more difficult for me.

I don't bother with knocking as I swing open the door and barge noisily inside, slamming the door behind me. My eyes flicker to an unfazed Jungkook who's currently rummaging through his drawers in search of something.

"About time you showed up." He scoffs, shaking his head unsuccessfully as he gently closes the drawer without having located whatever he's searching for.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, your highness." I snap back, rudely brushing past him and carelessly dropping the bag onto a round table surrounded by chairs with a dull thud. "Merry fucking Christmas."

"Don't take that tone with me, slave." Jungkook's warning tone is accentuated with the scuffing of his shiny black boots on the carpet as he makes his way over to breakfast.

"I'm not your slave, asshole." I snarl back, the degrading name beginning to unravel the thin strand of my self-control, snapping the tiny threads until there's only one thread left that's supporting the entire tower. One wrong move or word could result in my hands wrapped around his neck and choking him to death. Let him test me. Let him see what happens.

"Whatever," he shoots back, promptly shouldering me out of the way to peek into the bag. A visible hunger sparks in his gaze as he peers down at the pastries and doughnuts that I had supplied myself with before returning to the room, and he darts his tongue out to wet his bottom lip.

Shocked, I instantly turn away to avert my eyes, feeling a strange sensation swirling in the depths of my stomach at the sight. What the hell, emotions? I reprimand my feelings, needing something, anything, to blame for my reaction. And why is this affecting me? He's disgusting and an asshole! Right? Wait, why is that even a question? He has been and always will be! Nothing can change that demented boy.

I shake my head slightly as I watch him upend the bag and empty the contents on an expanse of paper towels. He instantly tears into a powdered doughnut as if he hasn't eaten in months and I smile ruefully.

"I can feel you staring at me, half-blood." Jungkook suddenly glances up from his doughnut without warning to fix a firm glare on me. My gaze involuntarily drifts to his uneven lips, a playful smile creeping across my own as I notice that his are coated with a sheet of snow-colored, dusty sweetness. A giggle escapes my lips at the contrast between his angrily glowing eyes and the powdered sugar concealing the reddish tint of his lips, and I reflexively slap my palm across my mouth to muffle another that's bubbling in my chest.

"What's so funny?" He growls, some of the powder drifting from his lips to settle on his ebony shirt.

"Wipe your mouth, kid." I rip away one of the paper towels and hold it out to him, suppressing another round of laughter.