Lord Of The Wolves

Flowers Bloom In The Last Days Of Winter

Jungkook's mind is cluttered with restive thinkings. His emotions still whirl around in turmoil, pounding his chest and rattling his ribcage. Even the crisp vines that twine around his windows recoil in discontent, whisked away by the air's sound hush from below. Winter is nearing its end, it seems –but the anxious cold that bites at his skin stays present. It lingers, in his mind and in his frail, livid toes – the anticipation that lurks behind his shoulders, as if morphing into the smooth ambits of his shadow and turning it ragged.

But Jungkook is not one to retreat so easily too, his tenacity is resolute and his heart still burns with hope. Taehyung apparently thinks so, confident to offer him the invitation of a trivial adventure to a desolate-looking terrace. It's sent in the form of a brown parchment–inscribed with ink blots and flashy petal prints. The letter is scented, a mingling aroma of fresh rose and sweet honey. The golden peaks of each word lean with every tilt of his cursive in the same modest manner, added with a brief two-sentence mail that read:

"I brought your Jody, fixed it up for you. Now help me pluck the weeds off the garden you grieve over so much. Those lovely thighs should do more work, darling."

Jungkook chortles at that, unabashed by his brother's flirtatious wording.

"You like my legs that much?" He appears just minutes after the letter's last punctuation, wrapped in thin sleeves and leather trousers. His clothing is tight around his figure, pants hugging his waist with a beautifully hand-stitched band just above the navel. The slim lace that bounded his collar glinted dimly, paired with a thin top. His exposed collarbones protrude with a healthy white sheen, shimmering slightly at the touch of the sun's rising rays. Jungkook is definitely in shape for the labour.

"Can't get enough of it." Taehyung chuckles at his statement, standing straight to welcome his much-awaited participation.

Jungkook shimmies off the layer of dust that laid themselves on the hollows of his shoulders, rolling an eye to comment on Taehyung's jape. He saves a spot near the taller man, bumping his surefooted stance. He catches a glimpse of the glowering skyline, glancing at the cloudless heavens. The blazing hot ball tickles Jungkook's nose, eliciting a loud sneeze that makes Taehyung snort, brushing at his already smudged knees. 

"Bless your pretty soul." He throws a pair of gloves towards the other's direction.

Jungkook receives it with a smooth catch. "I've been blessed well enough, but I appreciate the sentiment."

The alpha huffs at his words. "Better get to work then, would do well to back up that posed gratitude of yours."

"On it," Jungkook answers mindlessly, pulling at the seams of his blue knitted gloves. He wiggles his toes, feeling the wet ground with his bare soles. It quickly lightens his posture, poking at the small of his back to tremble and straighten at the contact of cold, sticky mud. Taehyung is right, today is a fine day for preparations. As the once snow-covered garden melted into a murky, earthen plane, so did the waning gloom that pasted itself on their stone-walled chambers.

The omega kneels to the ground with an audible thump, fingers recoiling at the first touch of a layer of snow. He hums out a mellifluous tone, thoughtfully scraping the remnants of white, pearly winter drizzles with his little shovel. It's a makeshift material made out of wood and iron plates, crafted with the silversmiths' fervent and often outlandish sketched designs in mind. A glinting wink trails across its smooth, glossy handle, and as Jungkook pushes further with a  wriggle, the rocks beneath snap and clang against it.