#chahkyns

there really isn’t any rush to get ready, you figure -- it’s only namjoon coming home after work, who’s been overseas for three weeks now, and it’s not as though you missed him dearly or anything.

( a big fucking lie, but you like to pretend it’s really not a big deal. really. ) 

so, grabbing his t-shirt that practically looks like a dress on you, you tie up your hair and make sure you are somewhere between i woke up like this and tastefully put together, then go to make dinner. because again, it’s about damn time he came home, and you wanted to make sure it went just right.

after all, you didn’t plan for this at all. it was just very casual. totally. 

dinner went... well enough, after several calls with friends, and before you knew it, it was half past nine. “cooking takes way too long,” you grumble, looking at the plates of food that, while you don’t think are exactly instagram worthy in appearance, smell heavenly. hopefully, he’ll appreciate your efforts.

when your phone reads ten o’clock, your frown deepens. you think to send him a text, but you don’t wanna come off as too desperate. ... but you’re still worried, because he said 9, and yet no text of saying he’d made it safely or anything had reached you.

at 10:30, you cave.

[ to: babe ] hey! did you make it back okay? i’m worried! ><

at 10:45, you get a reply.

[ from: babe ] namjoonie hyung left his phone in my bag. he left like 20 minutes ago, though so he should get back. and you should tell him jimini has his phone. 

with a sigh of defeat you fall back against the chair, only your head connects to something almost soft. something almost soft that chuckles. looking up, you meet namjoon’s smile with a scream and jerk your knee into the table, a vulgar curse escaping you. “oh shit, i didn’t mean to scare you --”

“yes you did,” you hiss, holding your knee to your chest as he turns to grab a bandaid from the cupboard.

he has the audacity to look sheepish, shoulders hunched as he makes his way back to you with a plaster in hand. “yes, i did, but not so you’d get hurt! are you -- is that my shirt?”

you swat at him weakly, tears springing forth from just how downright shitty your night seemed to go. “kim namjoon! shut up and hand me the bandaid.” his expression softens, and wordlessly he settles the bandaid over your skinned knee before placing a soft kiss on top. you rub your eye, pouting at the plate of food instead of looking at him and his puppy dog eyes. “yes, it’s your shirt. i wanted to surprise you but then you took forever and i got worried and now it’s all ruined --”

his hand reaches for your cheek, guiding your attention to him as he holds your gaze for a long moment, and you hate that your stomach clenches at the sight. you should be mad at him, but heaven knows you love him too much. “i’m sorry i was late. i was gonna surprise you, but then i lost my phone and it got too late so i just left it, and why aren’t flower shops open late, anyway?”

his silly question elicits a laugh from you, and to show he’s forgiven you kiss his forehead. “jimin has your phone. also, it’s late, and while i appreciate the thought... i just wanted you home.” wiping your tear with his thumb, he sighs quietly, contemplating before shaking his head.

the kiss he returns to you meets your lips. “i’m home.” 

it’s one of those lazy sunday afternoons where somehow, miraculously, all the chores had been done ( except maybe vacuuming and putting the laundry away, but you’ll get there, eventually ), and the air in the house is simply lazy. where you feel as though getting up and moving is simply too much work, and now it’s time to lie down and rest. so, you do, nestled against namjoon’s side as he glances at a photo album of a vacation spent on your anniversary.

the pictures are bright and summer-y, and either the focus is on you or him but the smiles are unmistakably at each other. that sort of young romance that burns hotly under your skin might have simmered down a little, but the breeze comes and goes to shake things up a bit.

“what’cha doin’?” you drawl, cheek pressed against his chest as a laugh rumbles in his chest -- if it weren’t for the fact that you were starting to get hungry, you probably would have fallen asleep like that. he was wonderfully warm, after all.

“nothing, nothing. just... looking at some old photos. we should do this again, you know? go out to the beach.” you hum in agreement, feeling him shift as he sets the book back onto the coffee table. you whine quietly at the movement, sitting up despite the want to stay with him. he laughs again, patting your hair down. “tired?”

instead of answering, you stand up, turning the music back on so you can finish the last of your chores. “come on, let’s finish.”

there’s a spark of mischief in his eyes, and it takes you by surprise as his hands suddenly reach for yours, ensuring one of yours settles on his shoulder before he puts one of his own on your waist. with the hands that are connected, he raises them up and moves to the music, step by step. you almost stumble in your attempt to keep up, but namjoon keeps moving, humming to the song while smiling down at you fondly.

bathed in the afternoon sunlight, to a cheesy little love song, you danced together; it’s so simple and pure, you can’t help but laugh, which in turn, infects him with little giggles too. “what?”

“slow dancing? really?” you tease, but his eyes turn to crescents as he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

you look back up to stutter out a confession, one you’d said a thousand times over, but instead he sings along to the song, making you heart melt further. “no matter what you’re thinking about, just dance with me~”

days feel like weeks, and weeks feel like months without namjoon around. it’s not even like he means to leave her alone for so long, his work is so demanding and while alyssa knows next to nothing about it (”i own a business,” he explains one night, one of the few where she felt truly safe wrapped up in his arms. “what kind of business?” she had asked, lips pressed against his shoulder. he didn’t respond, his soft snores telling her all she needed to know for the time being), she can only worry when her apartment is cold and quiet.

she runs a hand through her hair, tiredness making her body feel like lead. it’s harder these days, when she texts him and gets short messages in response. is he cheating on her, she wonders, but deep down she knows that’s not the case – he is loyal without fault, and she can only be the same towards him.

the quiet rasp on her door startles the woman, and dressed in one of his oversized sweaters she steps towards it hesitantly. the knocking comes again, and she opens it to find her boyfriend leaning against the doorframe, his smirk all cocky and charming at once. “was wondering if you were home,” he croaks, and that’s when she sees his black shirt is darker in places, torn, his hand is covering his side –

“shit, are you bleeding?” she cusses, taking his free hand to pull him inside. namjoon only hums in response, letting himself be taken to her bathroom so she might be able to patch him up. “what were you doing, you stupid –”

“hey now, be nice,” he tries to laugh, but it’s tired and hollow, echoing in the bathroom. “accidentally took a wrong turn somewhere. it’s okay though, i’m just tender.”

namjoon lets her help him out of his shirt, obediently raising his arms with a hiss of pain and what she sees makes her heart ache more. “are you going to go away again?” she finds herself asking as she dabs rubbing alcohol to clean his cuts, trying to ignore the blooming bruises all over his torso.

he falls quiet at that, sitting on the lip of the bathtub so she can clean his face as well. alyssa frowns, pressing a little more against his bruise in light punishment. “ow! princess, please!” she lets up, but her eyes bore into his expectantly. namjoon swallows, and she wonders if she’ll ever hear the whole truth.