Claw's Bridge(Discontinued)

93. Grevillea

"Nighter," Taehyung called out as I was hauling my stuff into my room. We were back at the palace and unpacking.

"Yeah?" I asked, chucking the bag on my bed.

"I have to tell them," he said. I looked at him.

"Now that I think about it, I preferred them being told while I was on break. At least while they were on their way, they would calm down a bit," I said. "Do we have to?"

"Sooner or later," he said.

"Can we do it later?" I asked.

"They're going to ask questions. Namjoon knows when someone lies to him," he said. "Nighter, they're going to know eventually. Might as well get it out of the way."

"Yeah, but I'm scared," I mumbled, inaudible for him. I dragged my feet to the dining room. "Yoongi's going to kill me."

"I'll stop him," he said. I bit my lip in nervousness. I followed Taehyung inside, nodding at the guards who were stationed at the door.

"There's something we need to talk about," Taehyung announced, gaining everyone's attention. "But we need to make an agreement first."

"What is it?" Yoongi asked.

"You cannot act out. No matter what. Especially you, Yoongi," Taehyung said.

"Fine," he agreed.

Hearing five murmurs of agreements, Taehyung broke the news. "Four days ago, Nighter went for a walk with this guy he met at a grocery store," he started. I could hear the venom in his tone when he referred to Xylok. "They talked for a bit, and then they kissed."

That caused an uproar. Yoongi and Seokjin leaned back in their seats, processing the bomb that Taehyung dropped on them. Jimin started choking on his spit, while Namjoon and Hoseok simultaneously exclaimed, "WHAT?"

I inched to stand behind Taehyung. He extended his arm to hold my hand to reassure me, and made me stand beside him. "Is this true, Nighter?" Seokjin asked.

"Yes," I replied. I was not going to apologize for doing something I wanted. We were not in a relationship, I didn't have to apologize for kissing another man.

"Who was it?" Yoongi demanded. "Did he force you? Did he manipulate you into it?"

"No, I initiated it," I responded.

"You initiated it?" He asked. I nodded, squeezing Taehyung's hand as Yoongi's anger got visibly worse.

"Yoongi, you agreed," Taehyung reminded. "Nighter said he won't do it again."

"And we're supposed to believe him?" he asked.

"I believed you when you first apologized for hurting me," I said, frowning. "Yet you went back on it and hurt me again."

"That was different. I didn't kiss someone else," he said.

"We are not in a relationship for you to be mad at me for kissing someone I found attractive," I said.

"You kissed Namjoon," Jimin pointed out.

"So? I didn't kiss the rest of you, did I?" I retorted. I didn't mention that I was impulsive when I kissed Namjoon. "Kissing someone I find attractive doesn't put me into a relationship. Especially a polyamorous relationship."

"We can discuss this later," Taehyung cut in. "Let's eat. I'm sure everyone's tired. It's been a long day for all of us."

"I'm not hungry," I said, loud enough for only him to hear. He looked at me.

"Not even a little?" he asked. I shook my head. "That's alright. You can leave if you want."

I sent him a small smile and walked out, leaving him to answer Hoseok's questions.

-

I twirled the flower in my hand, sitting in the secluded spot in the vast royal garden. The beautiful Grevillea proudly showcased its pink beauty from each angle.

"Hey," I looked up to see Yoongi standing there.

"Hi," I said, moving so he could sit on the bench. I took note of his calm and relaxed posture. "You're not mad."

"No," he replied. "Not anymore, at least."

"That's good," I commented.

"What does it mean?" he asked, looking at the flower between my fingers. "It's pretty."

"True love, calmness and faith," I replied. "It's poisonous for us, but not deadly. A minor rash in the area of contact."

He took the flower from my hand and played with it. "Don't hurt yourself," he said. "I don't think we can handle you getting hurt by something so small and pure."

I looked at him. "The pain caused by poison is merely an itch as compared to the pain my mind puts me through," I said, reciting a line from one of Lana's brother's poems. He loved writing poetry, and often recited them to us, his only audience. Lana took a parental role after their parents died. After bonding with him, I, too, took a parental role in his life. Getting paid more than what most higher classes usually got, I donated some money to the orphanage I spent my childhood in, used some for our livelihood, and put aside some money to move out of Blasaeda.

"It still adds to it," he commented. "Why would you want to make it worse, even if it's a little?"

I scratched the tip of my finger, the rash forming. "I'll heal," I responded. "I always heal."