Author's P.O.V

"Hey hey, stop that," Jimin who's been silent for a while now interrupted, "Tell her all about that after I do my business."

A small motion emits from him, the odd movement at the corner of your eye drew your attention to him.

Clanking sound of metal chains and silver ornaments came from underneath his large, blue cloak, and then his hand protrudes.

In its grip is a pin with an emblem, its shiny coat shooting glares of harsh reflective light to your eyes. You catch glimpse of a small letter carved fancily across the span of the black: J.

The letter is embossed with gold.

Jimin hands it to Taehyung who is stood awestruck at the heavily draped man, his legs are still open to invite Snow White's legs in between them.

You notice the atmosphere change to a prepared setting with a cloud of gray hanging in the air. Everyone's attention is on him now.

The thick tint swims to Jimin, angling him in a way he looked powerful in his own aura. It was as if he was preparing for a battle and he's ready to go.

Now.

You veer your head towards him, a flicker of worry in your eyes, lighting the dark path towards him that only he could see and understand. The worry wasn't of a perilous event that could happen to a brother, it was the worry of being left to a group of strangers - men at that.

Momentarily he casts you a sympathetic look, a sad smile dancing across his pink lips. He then lumbers towards you, stopping just inches to regard your whole form.

"I'm sorry," he says softly, voice lowering much to a brisk whisper no one could hear, "I have work to do outside the castle."

He looks down to your tangled arms - your way to cope with tight atmospheres - and passes through to land on the hem of your red nightgown which you hadn't changed from yet from the boredom.

The creases bunching up the soft red hue of your nightgown reveals your bare skin underneath, the small laces adorning it comes with the crumples too, sealing your look of seductiveness.

He hated that. He hated to see you vulnerable in bare skin against adult people - especially men with heavy thirsts.

He hated the thought of his brothers.

And the thought bubbles up him, recoiling his heart with burning pain.

He hated to hate his brothers.

"I have to leave," he glances behind you, nodding slightly to seal whatever agreement he passed to one of his brothers.

And then he softly tears himself away from you without a small goodbye, the remnants of him stuck on you. He disappears behind a large pillar, and now you were plunged in a strange sensation.

He was like the last flicker of your burning candle, its last wax waning into molten placid together with the last straw of your wick and he burned endlessly until it died. Your last hope of light and comfort and peace incorporated in hot wax.

The atmosphere was thick and heavy with a large glow enough to bother your lids from harshness. You knew men were looking at you, at your bare feet and at your vulnerable state.

Turning, a soft grip wraps around your arm, more of a nudge than a grasp. Hoseok's lovely face comes into view, his lips stretching to a closed smile, targeting the muscles underneath to reveal two small dimples at the ending tips.

"Come, I'll introduce everyone around you," he sheepishly pushes you to the center of everyone's view.

Although he was child-like he was just so big and tall, the contrast of his manner and structure created an interesting aura from him - like a cute porcupine that would seethe with anger and struck you with its sharp daggers once triggered.

He was a silent dark horse.

All eyes on you are with harsh intensity, burning with blue fire from the undeniable spark beneath their eyes. And this gives you allowance to spare time to look at them.

You didn't have to study them.

You can't.

You have no one you know, and if there are then they are merely shifts of air that brush your skin throughout your damned life.

They are Namjoon and Anime guy, together with Snow White which you compel to flit your eyes towards. Instead, you look at the other two, like a thirsty traveler from the East asking for comfort and help of water.

Fortunately, Namjoon notices your eyes of plea and he sets his book down, stands up, brushes against the clothed couch and lumbers towards you.

You hadn't even noticed Hoseok's grip was no longer on you. The issue of Namjoon's eyes burning with flames in the hearth barricaded every exit of sensation in you.

There was something beneath his faded brown orbs that is striving to free itself from its caged bar, grunting and moaning with the deepest voice known to man, deeper than the blackest ocean. It was monstrous and black - a dangerous animal set to oppress.

You didn't even know what it was. But boy, you were scared.

Compared to the bursting emotion in his eyes his face stayed nonchalant, plump lips sealed tightly and face stoic to ever release anything that is not him.

You wonder. Why was he portraying two emotions in one?

Animal at that.

"Come, I'll show you everyone," he softly says and takes your arm to swiftly push you more towards the center.

Hoseok sits while Namjoon splays his hand out to everyone. He points to anime guy who had rather found a liking in a tiger printed cloth to realize the eyes cast on him, twirling it around slender fingers.

"That's Kim Taehyung, 1st Grandson of the West and the 6th Prince of Emberose," Namjoon informs, quickly throwing a glance at you. Taehyung looks up, a dashing smile adorning his lips, cloth yielding against the movements of his fingers.

Realizing your casual expression, Namjoon moves on to the next, "Min Yoongi, 3rd Prince," he points to Snow White who lazily bopped his head to consider the introduction.

Turning to a gorgeous man seated silently across from you he says, "That's Kim Seokjin, 2nd Prince." The man looks affable in nature, with small plump lips and brunette fringes brushed to the side to reveal a shining forehead.

There was something so beautiful about him: grace, elusive, flexible and robust as a mammal. He emits protection and comfort but the wide shoulders encompassing his slender body is sex appeal.

His eyes are soft and hard at the edges as he splays his arms out to rest gracefully against the back of the couch, opening his body wide all for you to see, he stank with seduction and playfulness. Until you see the gentle curl of his mouth, breaking out the invisible barrier bordering his other self.

"Hey sister of Jimin, nice to meet you," his voice is sweet with fire, like champagne through the back of your mouth, burning down to meet with your stomach. It's hinting at the attraction he feels.

And he's so raw and pure, the tippiest concoction known to mankind; the most dangerous acid bubbling at the top of foamy creaminess, its danger hidden in beautiful rich violet.

He's violet.

Your eyes meet with the span of all the men in the large room-hall. And perhaps you had underestimated them and decided to box them in your biases against men. If you had thought they were like this you would've never thought to hate on them.

You wouldn't have passed the chance to know who they were.

They had a certain attraction that pulls you in them, in their arms, to plunge and wallow in intoxicating acid, to never leave to find home.

Maybe you had found home. Because it was a first to have this kind of feeling in a strangely unfamiliar abode - it is the freshness you could feel from the new people.

They were strangers, you admit, but that doesn't stop you from seeking the world in front of you, the house strut against the frame of your existence - the only shelter you could walk under from the chaos of the world the reality built outside for you.

They were violet. The last color of the rainbow.

And maybe - just maybe - you had hoped they were your last destination.

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UNEDITED.
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