Arranged | Jinkook ✓

Chapter 17.0

There was so much that he didn't understand.

Seokjin. He was Seokjin.

Yet he as constantly losing sight of himself.

...

"Taehyung!" He had learned to time it. To know exactly when the other would be alone. There was a singular moment, each and every night, when he would returned to the series of rooms they all shared. Would come and go again, a duel opportunity that he tried to take advantage of.

"Hello, my future prince." His future prince. Such a distinct difference from all of the ways he had been greeted before. A title he knew would come soon enough. That he was going to have to grow into.

But it felt different when it came from Taehyung. It felt -

Wrong. Like the sentiment was wholly misplaced. Wasted on someone who had neither earned nor deserved it.

Yet maybe those were just the desires of his soul echoing down through the ages, speaking of what someone else had wanted.

Because he wanted to be his princes husband. Wanted to be his mate. Knew the consequences of his own choices and was willing to go through with them anyway.

"Hello, my future -" What exactly was Taehyung anyway? Jungkook's - their, something inside of him whispered. Taehyung was their oldest friend. An adviser, meant to offer them guidance - and there was no denying that he did. That he was the raft that was currently keeping him afloat.

But it felt as though he were so much more. As if there were pieces of the puzzle that he was still missing. "What do I call you?"

"I am meant to be your adviser." Normally, each of them would have their own. Eventually, it was likely that Jungkook would choose people with far more exprience than him, who actually knew about the issues they would be dealing with. Who hadn't just read about them in books.

And Taehyung would become Seokjin's.

It was still a prestegious position. Being the future queens adviser. Always being by his side. Standing at his right, whispering into his ear. A place of power that was so much higher than someone like him ever should have been granted.

But he had been born into this. Born to overtake the failings of his father.

"And here you are, already doing such a good job." They were stood with in the open air of the hallways, the long stretch of stone walls seemingly endless. There was no one there, and even if there was, the echo of their footsteps would be like warning bells. "I was wondering if perhaps you could come to the library later? There are some things I would like to ask about the book I am reading."

There weren't. He understood all of it just fine. Currently he was stuck on some awful tale of a bloody war that he couldn't wait to be over.

But speaking the words he needed so desperately to say here, where anyone could hear them filtering out into the air seemed dangerous, a risk he just wasn't willing to take.

"Of course. Have you been using the device I gave you?" He had. Amost religiously. Keeping a close eye on the grains of sand, making sure it was flipped percisely at the right moment.

So far, he had learned that it would need to be flipped five times before the was meant to take his rest. And an additional six once he returned.

"I have."

"Then I will come on the fourth turn." It was an imperfect system, but they were both entirely aware of that. One of them might not be as deligent as the other. Might lose track of the flow of time and forget.