One thing Yoongi hated the most about his hidden power was that he couldn’t control it at times when he was flustered or angry. Any strong emotion that washed over him would always knock his ‘steadiness’ for his power. Occasionally, he would embarrassingly pinch himself somewhere that he knew would hurt in order to stabilize his state of mind.

But this was totally different, upon hearing Jimin’s voice he knew he was coned. Jimin. Out of all people, it had to be him. Yoongi groaned. He was flustered, he couldn’t help but to fall in love with the voice the first time he heard it in the gardens. The fact that his roommate wasn’t just a pretty face really irked him for some reason. His mind was clouded with the thought of the lingering voice only, wanting to drown in Jimin’s sound. It was fascinating, really. He never thought of Jimin to have that magical-like voice. Almost sounded like a voice of some fairy from the deepest part of the forest.

Yoongi knew he had to be exaggerating, being so tired and all.

He decided to stay there, pretending to be napping as he was listening to the voice inside the shower. He was calm until he heard the running water stop. He gazed at the door, opening, and a damped Jimin with nothing but a towel covering his lower body came out.  

Yoongi definitely thought his heart had stopped for a moment. He immediately covered himself with his blanket as he hissed, he didn’t want to see Jimin at the moment, especially in that situation. Jimin shivered, a bit when he felt the cold air hit his spine, and he was still wet. Yoongi froze… Did he just moan?

“Hyung, did you turn the AC on?” Jimin didn’t hear any response so he looked at the said device. It wasn’t . Weird. ‘Must be cold outside’, he thought as he got a sweater and a tight boxer out of his drawer. He was planning to stay inside the dorm for a while since he was pretty exhausted from the activities. Too much for being a dancer, plus he just had that little competition with Jungkook. He mentally laughed at himself as he remembered the look on Jungkook’s face when he beat him.

Meanwhile, Yoongi was calming down a bit. He panted heavily under his blanket, shifting in different positions to make himself comfortable as he tried to fully take control of himself real quick. Why did he have to feel strange whenever he was with Jimin? He inhaled sharply, ‘calm, calm…’

Jimin tugged at the neckline of his sweater, feeling bothered at the sudden rise of the temperature. He stayed still, thinking that it was just the wind. He felt heat going through the fabric of his clothes and decided to change into a thin shirt. He looked at Yoongi, apparently still sleeping under the blankets. He plopped down on the bed when suddenly Yoongi came rising from the bed.

“I need air,” he said as he grabbed pants and a simple white shirt he usually wore when going out.

Jimin quickly stood up from his position, with a cheerful tone, “Have a nice—okay…” Before he could finish his sentence, Yoongi had slammed the door shut, leaving a slightly embarrassed (and offended) Jimin.

Yoongi was too stressed out to know what he was doing. He scraped his feet on the ground, not having any energy to lift them up. He looked around the hallway, looking at the golden plaques that read the rooms’ numbers. He counted down, staring at them until he reached the stairs.

Somehow, he felt uneasy about everything. He felt like going back to the castle where everything was safe. His mind drifted immediately to the incident that happened the other day. He thought he had given Jungkook so much freedom that he was too blind to see that coming.

He walked till he reached the Academy’s entrance, which wasn’t so far away from the dorms. He didn’t even know why was he there, and it was quite uncomfortable to walk around in normal casual clothes with students in their uniform still inside the Academy. He tucked his hands inside his pocket, avoiding students’ gazes.

“Ah, when will you ever get used to people,” he muttered to himself. He kept thinking about going back to the castle, but that meant ruining Jungkook’s dream to have a higher education and socializing with common people before fully taking on his responsibilities as a prince. He went past classrooms filled with students, some were carrying out their club activities. He thought about attending his club, but he wasn’t sure if it was already finished. Probably yes.

He wanted to turn around and go back to the dorms, forget all of that and just go back to being a normal and arrogant , as people described him. But he couldn’t, he saw that particular classroom where it all happened. He went further until the very door was in front of him. It was blocked with some sort of barrier so that no one could get near it. He squinted his eyes, his eyes darted to the doorknob. A symbol he had seen before. He widened his eyes. Somehow it kind of triggered him.

He’d seen it before… But where? He reached his hand out, close, near, until the barrier reacted to his touch, electrifying him. He quickly shook his hand away, wincing in pain as he felt the sting run across his hand. “,” he groaned. Now he understood why this part of the corridor was avoided. Holding his hand, he looked at the doorknob once again.

He decided that talking to Seokjin was probably the right thing to do for now. He hurried up his steps with one thing in his head, and that was to find the identity of the man that tried to hurt the prince.

“What are you both up to?” Hoseok scrunched his nose in disgust, the fetid odor took over his nose as he entered the room. Namjoon and Seokjin had closed the window to make sure no wind would destroy the warm temperature. The nauseating heat didn’t go well with the smell. And Hoseok thought the dance club room smelled bad after a practice...

“Trying to experiment with the newfound species of the flower rose,” Seokjin shrugged, carefully putting a surgical glove on one of his hand. He squinted his eyes, focusing on cutting a small piece of the stem as if he was cutting a wire to stop a bomb. Hoseok couldn’t help but chuckle at how Seokjin’s hands were shaky.

“Okay, I understand completely—” he groaned. “Ugh, the smell. Why do you guys have to do this inside the office, we have the laboratory for a reason.” Hoseok started to fan himself with the folder that was sitting on the desk. Sweat started to pool around his neck, making him curse under his breath. He had a shower just five minutes ago after closing the dance club room, and the humidity of the room was ruining it for him.

“The Science club is using it, besides, this is something other students shouldn’t be seeing,” Seokjin looked at how Hoseok was making a face at how badly it smelled, “nor smelling.”

“And why not? It’s just a simple flower.”

“Because it could be toxic. It smells bad, and we don’t know if it is safe to put it in the garden just yet. You see it’s already spring, and all the roses in the garden are blooming, while this one is not.” Namjoon grabbed the stem that Seokjin was holding, placing it inside a tube to keep it safe.

Hoseok whined, “Okay you didn’t have to explain everything.” Sometimes the older just wanted to shove a donut down Namjoon’s mouth to stop him from explaining every goddamn detail, every time.

“You asked!” Namjoon bickered.

Hoseok examined their little scientific research, or whatever they called it. He noticed a few withered roses on the other table, rotten, and they were slowly falling apart into black dust. “What are those?” He pointed at the rotten ones.

“Apparently, when they are under the sun for too long, they wither away,” Namjoon explained.

“That… That is so confusing, don’t flowers feed on the sun’s light?”

Before Namjoon could answer back, they were interrupted with continuous knocks. Somehow Hoseok felt like dejà vu . The three of them ignored when it stopped, but after a few seconds it went on and on again until Seokjin lost his temper.

“Hoseok, can you open the door?”

The younger didn’t say anything and immediately complied. He opened the door and there he saw a man smaller than him, paler, and thinner. “Yoongi-hyung. What brings you here?” Hoseok forced a smile, acting as if he wasn’t bothered at all.

Yoongi had pushed him lightly, going inside. “Where’s Seokjin?” He choked, his eyebrows furrowing as he held his stomach and his other hand went over his nose. “What’s that smell? Ugh,” he groaned. “Disgusting.”

Seokjin sensed that Yoongi must had another problem again. He left Namjoon with the flower and walked towards them. What was the knight doing? Wasn’t he supposed to be guarding Jungkook like the mighty soldier he was? He crossed his arms in front of the two men, arching an eyebrow.

“What is it Min Yoongi? Do you want milk from mommy?” Seokjin mocked how many times Yoongi had been looking for him for almost a goddamn week. He was getting annoyed by it. He was sort of like a broken tape that repeated itself.

“Ha, ha. Look, I just wanted to know about what happened the other day,” he squinted his eyes. He was still horrified by the smell, slowly touching his own skin to remove the excessive heat from his body.

Seokjin raised an eyebrow, as if telling him that he was clueless about what he was talking about. Yoongi groaned and rolled his eyes, making Hoseok chuckle a bit with the older’s impatience. “The other day!” He exclaimed. “When Jungkook got injured, have you found who the culprit was?!” He tried not to raise his tone but Namjoon was using an electric saw in the background and that didn’t help to calm him at all.

“We cannot tell you, Yoongi,” Seokjin deadpanned.

“And why not?”

“Confidential, headmistress’ order.” Hoseok slid himself into the conversation of both men, making Yoongi huff out another groan.

“I am a personal royal knight and servant of Prince Jungkook, and I demand to know the truth!” He shouted, frustrated.

Seokjin didn’t want to deal with any of this now that he was on an important assignment. He saw then Hoseok was putting himself behind Yoongi, probably just in case the older would loosen his rage or something. They could never know what could happen.

Namjoon kept calm, looking through his microscope, seeing particles of the stem Seokjin got earlier. The noise was utterly disturbing. He sighed.

“Even if you are a royal servant, directly from the king himself. I am sorry but you are under the roof of the headmistress’ academy. Therefore, you must follow the rules.” Seokjin gave a smug smirk before turning his heels to the other direction to continue what was interrupted earlier.

Yoongi was about to grab Seokjin by the wrist but Hoseok had stopped him by grabbing his bicep. “Stop, stop,” he said in broken english. The older held back, sighing. “You can’t just disrespect the president, hyung…”

The pale man arched an eyebrow, looking at Seokjin like a predator. He was not used to this kind of thing. The things that would make the prince get hurt, hidden awa