Lord Of The Wolves

Knock Before You Gawk

Jungkook is dipped in white, the ever-flowing texture of veil glowing wispily under each finger's touch. His lashes tip and lock when he stares longer than intended, so unfocused of his reflecting figures that he almost misses the tint of flushed pink on both his downturned cheeks.

The clothing is provoking- it cascades softly around his shoulders and beams with arched pads, there are layers of blue hues (some harder on the eyes than the others and some just as feathery as the veil beneath). Jungkook swears he has never sighted a much more intricate design sewn at his hanging sleeves. Such a delicate and tantalising fabric was not for his toughened body.

And yet here he was, shoulders slumped but rather suitable for the attention of his adorned sleeves. Although his stomach was muscled and his thighs were tight -not much alteration was required to fit for quite a body.

"Beautiful," Seokjin gasps from behind. Jungkook is understandably startled, turning roughly to the source of the voice.

"I almost forgot about you-" Jungkook admits. He heaves a relieved sigh and glues himself to the front of the fancy mirror. He pats at the skirt of his attire, twines a finger on the ribbon tied tightly around his waist.

"The garments were made of Fraustian's finest wool -such a reasonable price for an exquisite garb, I say." Seokjin crosses the distance and places himself just behind his brother. In his hand was a glinting small case, embedded with the markings of their kingdom's golden emblem, the daring eyes of a dragon glaring from the shine of lacquered wood.

Jungkook eyes the item before averting his gaze to his face. He grimaces at the dark brown shadow tinting his lids and the sharp line of black detailing his doe eyes.

"They've overdone it," He grumbles bitterly, nibbling at his red lips. It tastes liked apple, glazed and dunked with saccharine balm.  "This -this isn't me. I don't like what I'm seeing."

"Now, now." Seokjin tuts, "It's just for one evening. After that, you can go back to your bland white blouses and skinny trousers."

Jungkook pouts, face offended, "That's what they all say -sooner or later, they'll have my wardrobe burnt and replaced with hellish dresses."

"Those hellish dresses are worth more than your offending wardrobe as of the moment-"

"Why spend such a price for a measly fabric?" Jungkook rebuts, twirling the seams of his skirt to mock. "As long as I'm clothed, I'll be fine."

"You're clothed now." Seokjin squints his eyes at the reflecting figure before him, nodding back and forth with enough pace to warrant a disagreement. "Besides, such a well-celebrated event must not be spent on second-rate shoes."

"Hey! Never insult my Jody!"

"You name your shoes?" Seokjin finds that the more he indulges Jungkook into his string of whining, the more he finds amusement out of his idiosyncrasy. Heaven forbid, he'd hear something that would keep him up all night wondering as to what goes on inside the younger's mind.

A beat later, he is still gripping on the wooden box. Seokjin prepares himself for the surprise, but is instead cut short by an interruption.

"I don't like this." The younger says. "Days ago, I would have been wearing anything but this. I would have been doing the same old things I always do -not prancing around covered in jewels and veils."

There is a resonating implication to Jungkook's statement. He's bothered immensely by the waves of changes, and he's growing more and more relentless with his grievances.