Lord Of The Wolves

If It Gets Too Much For You, We Can Always Run Away Together

The room is in disarray. What was once a quaint, uneventful morning is now replaced with a tingling feeling of anticipation. Piles of clothing make their way into his room. It builds up to an impressive pile, one that impressively manages to challenge Jungkook's collection of leather boots.

The disturbance in his safe abode seems awfully planned, however – and it's quite disruptive to his supposed (and long-awaited) rest time. And now that too much of it had been wasted dawdling over undone sketches and rumpled garments, Jungkook supposes his day-off might need adjustments to his growing calendar of busy schedules. 

He finds the thought maddeningly provoking, irked by the nonchalance of his brothers' for his privacy.

Jungkook has long been used to the quiet company of his humble room (though as modest as a prince's spacious chamber could be), the lofty pillars of his windows hooking up a cluster of shy petals. 

The flowers glow in pride, however minuscule their sizes appear to be, and it intertwines seamlessly around his bare walls, no longer than a fae's twittering wand. Much of the emptiness has been planted with the same, sparkling ornament - pearly white star patterns that trundle along with the male's wide enclosure. And often, these walls have been accompanied with nothing but the echoes of his hums (sang softly during restless nights) and fluttering feathers that tap at his rose-tint glass panes (thumping quite well to the rhythm of his unwritten songs).

Yet today, none of that will matter, as certain alterations for the day keep on expanding into unplanned labours. For now, Jungkook's sight is filled with nothing but repetitive sceneries. 

Servants are parading shiny valuables all around the place, tailors are grinding their heeled soles with pens in mouth and tapes around their neck. There's even an entourage of clothing after clothing along the entryway, the white sparkly veil following close behind like a lurking villain.

"This is stupid." Jugkook finally speaks, twirling sluggishly in a skirt twice the length of his usual wardrobe. He pats down at the pleated waistline of his garment, a bit enamoured by the crystal beads that decorate his figure –though his stubborn self refuses to give Hoseok the satisfaction of seeing his intrigued expression.

"No, it is not." The older male tuts as he sees Jungkook reach over a plate of cupcakes, casting him a reproachful look as he swats away his fiddling hands. The younger yelps quietly, rubbing soothing circles over his reddening hand. It makes Hoseok stumble in his movements, quick to send an apologetic stare that nearly makes Jungkook feign a more dramatic reaction. "This is a very special day and I need you to cooperate. We cannot have you wasting people's time."

Jungkook makes an indignant squeak, devious hands landing over a silver platter showered in spongy delights. "My time isn't for free either." He munches loudly, the evident pout on his voice disappearing through the brown covering of a chocolate crust.

"Kook," It seems the action hasn't been as lighthearted as Jungkook intended, Hoseok having squealed in horror at the drop of dripping chocolate on his bedazzling, red cloak. 

The cacophony took Jungkook by surprise, daunted by the impressive decibel of Hoseok's screeching that seems to extend farther than the immensely garnished recesses of his ceiling. With languid movements, he guiltily motions his hand down back into the clanging plate –squirming at the sight of another tempting dish. Hoseok notices the lump on his throat, Jungkook's parted lips ready to salivate at the presented sweets before him.