PROJECT K001

Untitled Part 18

The clinking of porcelain echoed softly against the high-vaulted ceilings, an elegant, tempered rhythm that did nothing to soothe the disquiet pulsing beneath Jungkook's skin. The morning had bloomed slowly, silver light bleeding across the eastern windows and filtering through the gauzy drapes like softened suspicion.

He hadn't expected to be summoned again so soon—not like this.

The dining hall was smaller than the grand banquet room he had peeked at on his first day. This one was intimate. Quiet. There were only three chairs set around a circular table that looked like it had been carved from the bones of the forest—smooth wood, pale and veined with the silver-gray of age. He felt like he had stumbled into something unspoken.

V was already seated when Jungkook arrived, unmoving except for the flick of his gaze when the boy stepped through the doorway. That sharp gaze trailed over him with the same unreadable depth it always held, but something about it today felt... weightier. Measured.

Jungkook bowed his head instinctively, unsure why, but felt the air tighten anyway.

Then another set of footsteps entered the room—slower, quieter. Taehyung.

Unlike his twin, who sat like a statue cast from marble and shadow, Taehyung moved like wind brushing over still water. Silent, gliding, unhurried. But today there was an edge to his silence that made Jungkook's spine stiffen.

He didn't understand why both of them were here. Together. With him.

Still, he obeyed the unsaid instruction. He sat. He pulled the chair back as quietly as possible and tucked himself into the curved wood, lowering his eyes as plates were set before them.

The silence wasn't uncomfortable. It was dense.

The kind of silence that didn't grow from awkwardness but from restraint—like sharp blades held in velvet sleeves.

Taehyung was the first to reach for a plate, lifting a slice of roasted pear with slow, deliberate grace. His eyes didn't stray from Jungkook as he moved, and yet he said nothing. Didn't offer a greeting. Didn't even offer a glance toward his brother.

V, for his part, didn't eat immediately. He watched. Sat still, hands clasped loosely before him, a slight crease between his brows that might have meant anything—or nothing at all.

Jungkook didn't know what to do with his hands. He reached for the fork, then paused, fingers curling in mid-air. The table was too quiet for cutlery noise. The food looked too delicate to disturb. And he was suddenly aware of how small he looked between them—hoodie sleeves pulled over his hands, hair still slightly messy from sleep, and eyes that darted too quickly.

"Eat," V said finally. One word, low and cool, dropping into the space like a stone into water.

Jungkook obeyed, flinching only slightly as he reached again, this time slicing into the fruit with careful effort. His movements were slow, but he was aware of every breath in the room. The way Taehyung's eyes slid to V's hand as it reached for a glass of water. The way V's jaw tensed slightly when Taehyung offered Jungkook a folded napkin without a word.

It wasn't just a meal. It was a balance. A test.

Halfway through the quiet dining, Jungkook felt his foot bump against something beneath the table. He stilled.

Not the leg of the table. Not a chair.

Warm. Firm. V didn't move, didn't look down, but Jungkook knew. His own ankle was now resting lightly against V's. Skin through the thin cloth of his pants.

He drew it back, flustered, but not fast enough to avoid the faintest brush of contact again—intentional this time. A tap. A warning. Or a claim.

Jungkook swallowed.