Arranged | Jinkook ✓

Chapter 3.0

Waking up was strange. An odd sensation that he couldn't describe.

There was a soreness that had settled into his body, and as he pushed himself upwards he realized just how much he regretted choosen the weirdly shaped sofa instead of the perfectly comfortable bed that was less than five steps from where he currently sat. But spreading himself out across it would have felt wrong. Like he was presenting himself, offering his body up in exchange for something he didn't even want.

He didn't want this. He didn't. He wanted to go home. Wanted to go back to his family.

It was easy to think otherwise when he was in the prince's presence. So very easy to imagine some sort of perfect life that could possibly lay ahead of him.

But when he was alone it was so much more difficult to feel anything other than regret. Technically, he would have been within his rights not to respond to the decree, since he wasn't quite of age. Yet his father had assured him that they would likely just toss him back at the first opportunity. That it would never actually get this far.

He wondered what the look on his face was going to be when he learned the truth.

Pushing himself up, his head snapped to the floor as the sound of the blanket falling from his body caught his attention. And suddenly the previous night came back into sharp focus. How they had agreed.

How he had agreed.

He had called the prince his future husband. And the thought was enough to make a soft blush come into his cheeks, deep red staining the pale expanse. Would it -

No. And something instead of him couldn't even believe that he'd had the thought. That it had almost been his first one. To try and seek the prince out. To have some other wonderful, warm moment.

Would they all be like that? Realistically he was aware that they wouldn't be. That sooner or later this perfect image that his mind had been conjuring would be shattered. And he silently prayed that it would take a while. Long enough for his heart to fall.

Because he desperately wanted to be in love with the man he married.

Slowly, he moved across the space that was apparently intended to be his until their marriage. It was bright, almost overly so, and he wondered if it had been designed with someone in particular in mind. It certainly didn't seem as though it matched the princes taste.

Not when he had been dressed all in black the evening before, a sharp contrast to the pure white shirt he had worn himself.

Still wore, he realized, and he couldn't hold back the soft sigh that left his lips. Perhaps that should be the first thing he sought out. Was a place to wash and some sort of replacement clothing. Hopefully something soft and loose. A wistful sound slipped out then instead, remembering all of the articles of clothing that his mother had so beautifully hand stitched for them.

But they were simple.

Everything about him was simple.

And once more he realized just far in over his head he truly was.

...

"So -" He didn't want to hear it. He did not. But he had the distinct knowledge that he had no other choice. "What happened to the whole, sullen 'I'll only be happy if they let me pick Jimin' thing?"

Taehyung's voice had risen as he spoke, until it was soft and high, a poor imitation of how he actually talked. And for a moment he actually envisioned just sticking his fingers into the other's mouth until his foolish tongue stopped moving.