The Enemy Prince, Volume Two: Our Enemy King, A Namjin FF

Chapter Ten

Jin's day

Saturday: Your Prison Bedroom, 1 pm, Jin's POV:

- You had been locked in this stupid bedroom for the past few hours, and Sehun hadn't thought to give you anything to do. No books, no cards, nothing. Normally, you were only in here to eat or sleep, he always took you with him during that day. But now it really felt like a prison.

- He also had never given you anything to eat after his little tantrum with Baekhyun during what should have been breakfast time, and you were really hungry. Why had he decided to treat you like an actual prisoner all of a sudden, just because you were a little annoying?!

- You were walking laps around the room, having changed into the most casual clothes you could find, and trying to keep yourself occupied.

- That flash of blonde hair on your way to the dining room was all you could think about. At the time, you thought it was just your mind playing tricks. But now, you were almost positive that it had been Jimin.

- How he managed to get into the palace and remain undetected was a mystery to you, but if it really was Jimin, then you had your first real hope of escape since you were kidnapped.

- As you turned to walk back towards the window, the lock in door clicked. You froze, and then spun around, not sure what mood Sehun would be in, but fairly positive that you didn't want to find out.

- "What are you wearing?" he asked as he strolled into your room, giving you such a look of disdain that your panic was instantly was replaced with irritation.

- You put a hand on your hip, looking him up and down once before replying, "You bought these clothes, not me. And I could ask you the same question, what is that hideous thing?"

- He narrowed his eyes at you and hissed, "It's a t-shirt, and it's Prada. And I did not buy whatever it is you have on, one of the stylists must have got it by mistake. Go change."

- "No! I look just as good in a hoodie as I do in your label-whore garbage! I'm sick of changing my outfit whenever you change your mind," you replied, glaring right back at him and standing your ground.

- "Change," he hissed, his voice getting dangerous, but you were so fed up that you snapped, "No!"

- Before you had time to react, he had crossed the room and grabbed the collar of your sweatshirt in both hands, jerking it sharply so it tore cleanly in half, right down to the hem.

- "What the hell was that?!" you shouted, staring at him with a mix of shock and anger as you shoved him away with both hands.

- His mood seemed to change in a breath, because he gave you a stupidly happy smile and replied, "Now you have to change."

- "Are you a fucking child!? You ripped my hoodie!" you continued to shout, wrapping the two halves of your now ruined sweatshirt around yourself.

- "No, but now you should really put on something else or you'll get cold," he replied, that idiotic smile still on his face.

- If he was going to keep acting this immature, that was fine with you! You could play that game too, and his stupid Prada shirt probably cost about a million dollars more than your sweatshirt.

- Without hesitating, you reached out and grabbed the hem of his weird shirt, ripping a foot-long tear in the fabric.

- You spun on your heels, ignoring the startled look on his face, and stomped into the closet as you shouted, "Now neither of us can wear what we wanted too. You go change!"