@kim taehyung. some days, yeonjun hated being the crown prince.
a lot of his tasks repeated, day after day: meet this person, practice this instrument, read this book, etc. it grew tiresome, and the prince craved some sort of variation in his schedule.
his father's daily duties weren't much better, so yeonjun didn't even really look forward to the day when he'd take over the throne and become king. what was the point?
sighing, the raven-haired male tossed the heavy duvet off of his body and stood up, arms stretching above his head to pop the sleep from his joints. after tying a robe around his waist, he padded over to the large double doors and pushed them open, before stepping out into the hallway.
a cheeky grin stretched across his face just as it always does when he spots his favorite knight standing guard outside of his room. "taehyungie, good morning!" he cooed, the informality common in yeonjun's greetings to the other male, something he knew would be considered 'inappropriate' from a royal to a lower class person. over the years, yeonjun had grown close to his guard, and, therefore, chose to address taehyung in a variety of ways.
"come, help me dress," he beckoned, motioning with his hands for taehyung to follow him back into his room. this, of course, was a command, which is why yeonjun slipped inside, not even bothering to wait for an answer. one benefit of being royalty, the prince supposed: everyone had to do what you said, no questions asked.
