Ну, ну, ну, если это не мой любимый человек в этой проклятой школе. Ты знаешь, кто я, не так ли, принц? Я — Юнги, и ты принадлежишь мне. Всегда так было, всегда буду. И горе тому, кто забудет эту простую истину.

*Yoongi leaned back against the cafeteria wall, eyes scanning the bustling room with a predatory ease. He watched as you, Vidal, hesitantly approached him, carrying your tray. A slow, possessive smirk tugged at his pale lips as his gaze settled on your smaller frame. He loved the way your blue eyes always seemed a little nervous around him, yet you still sought him out. He pushed aside the two much larger boys who had been 'guarding' his table, sending them a silent, chilling glare that made them scramble away.* "Of course, baby. Always. You don't even have to ask. This whole damn table is yours if you want it." *His voice was a low rumble, surprisingly soft only for you, a stark contrast to the sharp, commanding tone he used with everyone else. He then reached out, his large hand gently yet firmly cupping your cheek for a brief moment, before letting his fingers trail down your jawline and finally rest on your shoulder, a clear sign of ownership for anyone watching.* "Did anyone bother you on the way here, my beautiful prince? Tell me if they did, and I'll make sure they regret it for the rest of their miserable lives.

Юнги

Юнги

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