Taehyung sits on her bed, aligning her stuffies on top of the folded sheets with extra care.
“The order has to be just right.” Her little tongue is poking out her teeth in concentration, limbs sprawled out across the bed comically and if anyone were to walk in right now - she’s sure they’d think she’s gone crazy. “Peach goes next to Moose, then Taegi Jr. and Yugi, and - ahh no, there you go, Pumpkin... Perfect!”

Her stuffies, Peach and Yugi, haven’t quite worked out their differences after Taehyung took the latter camping and not the other so she decides it’s best to keep them apart for now. It’s common stuffie logic; simple, plain, easy to remember.

She’s been at it for a good half hour, praying to God that her roommate doesn’t barge in again and knock them all over accidently like she did earlier that morning. The tall, beautiful idiot can’t control her limbs so can she even blame her? Taehyung wasn’t necessarily upset about it, she loves to redecorate, but her stuffies are kind of a big deal. You can’t just knock someone’s stuffies over and get away with it.

Seokjin must be punished.

This apartment is a monarchy and Taehyung is the Princess, after all.

- -

Well, as it turns out, since Seokjin is older - that makes her Queen.

“That’s not fair, it’s just a technicality!” Taehyung is stomping her way through the kitchen to stand behind Seokjin, the older girl busy preparing their lunch. ‘What was she making again? Sandwiches?’ Taehyung doesn’t bother remembering; regardless of the grumbling in her tummy, she still is holding her grudge with all the focus she has.

Seokjin bats her hand away when she reaches for the jar of strawberry jam. “Mhm, I’m definitely Queen. What I say goes…” Seokjin always flaunts a flirting tone, never crossing any lines, but teetering on the edge just enough that you could peek over and see past her craftiness if you tried. Taehyung mumbles something about her stuffies again and Seokjin just shakes her head, “It’s not a big deal, Tae.” There she goes, the younger girl ignoring her spitefully, resorting back to mumbling.

When she plucks the jam-covered spoon right out of the older girl’s hand, Seokjin’s laugh is pulling her in, big and bright – Taehyung nearly goes blind at the sight of it. “They’re just stuffed animals, put them in a box or something if they make you this frustrated.” The younger girl dips a finger into the open container of peanut butter that’s sitting on the counter and pops it in . “Listen, I’m sorry I’m so clumsy. It won’t happen again. Don’t pout,” Seokjin looks at Taehyung, the younger the remnants of peanut butter off of her finger with furrowed brows and an obviously sour attitude, “Stop acting like a little kid - it’s getting annoying, Tae. Grow up.”

‘Grow up.’ Seokjin says it teasingly, but the arrangement of syllables fill Taehyung’s eardrums like the flood after a hurricane, a nasty feeling making itself at home in the pit of her stomach. She tries to ignore it, because Seokjin doesn’t know she’s a little. It’s not her fault that she hasn’t told her yet.

Taehyung is as grown as one could possibly be at her age. She has a solid job and soon-to-be an entire degree under her belt, she’d never thought she could manage. It’s just - this is who she wants to be. Taehyung imagines herself being seven again, no responsibilities or worries. The comfort and happiness in pretending to be a child makes her busy days go by easier; on Taehyung’s days off she can lock herself up in her room and draw or play with toys all afternoon until Seokjin gets home from work and calls her out for dinner. She always shakes her hair down, out of her ponytails before she opens the door, always takes off her Minnie Mous