#inthemiddleofthenight

Playlist: Updated with every released chapter

CHAPTERS

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30 - BOOK 2

Maya/Namjoon Camera Roll💙💛🐨🌻

Photos 1  -  Photos 2 -  First Date -  Boyfriend at Work - His Angry Side & Backside - When He’s Not Looking - Photos 3 - California Stay - So-Fi 2021

******************

It had taken more than one session for me to tell the full story to Dr. Rob. There were pieces I couldn’t remember; I had to ask Yoongi to help me fill in the gaps. Dr. Rob continued to ask questions—wanting more details in certain parts of the stories.

“You and Namjoon didn’t start getting close until after your move to Korea, right?” Dr. Rob asked, looking down at his notes, and wrote something down.

“Yes.”

“That was two years after you two reconciled?”

I nodded.

He took a long pause and looked to consider something before talking again. “You describe your friendship with Jin as playful and platonic. When did you start feeling close to him? You mentioned Jungkook, Jin, and Namjoon were the last ones you still hadn't gotten close to.”

It didn’t seem odd that Dr. Rob was asking me questions about my friendship with the other guys. He had been asking similar questions throughout the last two sessions as I told him the story of Namjoon and my fight. However, I was interested in how all of this mattered with my relationship with Namjoon—and even more so, how it tied to the walls I put up.

“I think it was after Namjoon and my fight. The guys went on vacation days after. Jin and I messaged each other a lot. He sent me a lot of silly photos of their trip. There’s a video of Yoongi being drunk and Jin convincing him to perform a girl group song all on his own,” I said, laughing at the memory. I still had the video and watched it whenever I wanted a good laugh.

Dr. Rob gave a nod and noted something else. “So, it’s right to say that out of all the guys, Namjoon was the last one you became friends with?”

I nodded.

“And that it took two years longer than the rest of the guys?”

And then I finally caught on to what he might be implying. “Do you think I kept Namjoon at a distance after we reconciled?”

Dr. Rob shrugged. “In those two years, before he called you during your panic attack, did you guys exchange messages with each other—just as friends, nothing to do with work?”

Thinking deeply, I couldn’t give him an answer. I couldn’t remember.

“You said on multiple occasions that your friendship with Namjoon really took off after he helped you through your panic attack. That was two years after your fight. Perhaps in those previous years, deep within you, you held onto that fight,” Dr. Rob suggested.

After taking a step back and considering Dr. Rob’s words, I spoke up. “You mean to say, subconsciously I’m unable to trust Namjoon because of that fight? All those years ago?”

“It might be multilayered,” Dr. Rob answered. “There’s the hurt from the fight. You thought of him as a friend and entrusted him with information about yourself that was very personal only to find out he didn’t think of you as a friend back. That created trust issues. Then there’s the layer of your view of friends and partners—you trust your friends with your emotions, but with your partners, you’re very guarded. In the past, you felt shame in sharing emotions. You were ridiculed by your exes. You were made fun of and dismissed by them. There's also the layer of Namjoon reacting similarly to those exes. He made a judgment of your sexuality. You shared personal information with him, believing it was safe for you to do so, only for him to throw it to your face. And then there’s the possibility that you’re self-sabotaging this relationship.

“After years of unhealthy relationships, this bond with Namjoon seems very alien to you. Your fight or flight responses are kicking in—making you want to run off or do whatever you can to drive Namjoon off. You did it years ago when you guys were only friends—or colleagues. You wanted to rid him of your life before he had another chance to hurt you. And then you did it the night of your break up. Rather than stay while the argument is happening, or wait for him to come back, you took off.”

I let Dr. Rob’s words sink in. I thought carefully about what he had observed, but something wasn’t sitting right with me. “I know Namjoon would never treat me the same as my exes, though. There’s not an ounce of meanness in his body.”

“Then why did it hurt so much when he said you ‘give it up easily’?” Dr. Rob challenged.

I was too stunned to respond. He had a point there. Those words had brought out emotions that were familiar. Emotions I hadn't felt since my last asshole ex.

Dr. Rob’s face softened as he looked straight at me. “I’m not saying Namjoon’s cruel. I’m saying he’s human. Everyone makes mistakes. We’re all capable of saying things we don’t mean when we’re angry and regret it later. It’s not an excuse. But it’s important for you not to put him on a pedestal. Because there’s only one way he can go when he makes a mistake: down.”

“I put Namjoon on a pedestal?” I asked, taken aback by his use of the word.

“I think you do. It goes along with your belief you’re not his ‘exception’. You said, and I quote,” he looked down at his notes and read, “‘He knows how to make everyone feel special. I don’t think I’m an exception'. You are the one who put emphasis on ‘everyone’.” Dr. Rob stared at me for a while, allowing the words to sink in. “He must be extraordinary to make everyone feel special. And that’s how you see him: extraordinary. But after the two occasions he messed up, walls come up which blocked this extraordinary person from coming in and knowing you—someone who can be hisexception.”

I didn’t realize I was crying until I felt wetness on my lap. I wiped the tears off and internally screamed at myself. Dr. Rob’s analysis of me was making complete sense and answered so many questions. And it was angering me. “Why am I doing that to him?”

“It’s a defense mechanism, Maya,” Dr. Rob said gently. “Your entire childhood, your emotions weren’t protected. Your primitive role models neglected every emotion you had. Your physical needs were met, but your emotional ones were not. You don’t see yourself as special outside of your musical talents. You’re rejecting him before he can reject you. Just take a look at your response just now: ‘Why am I doing that to him?’ Rather than trying to figure out why you’re doing this to yourself, you keep thinking of him. I’m not saying not to think of him—but you must put your emotional needs in higher regard.”

“How do I stop doing that?” I asked.

“Hard work—like last time,” he said.

I took a breath. I remember that hard work. It was mentally and emotionally exhausting. But it had been worth it. I felt more centered and whole the more sessions I had with Dr. Rob. I was ready to have that feeling again.

*************

I arrived at my house with the clear determination to head straight to bed; however, Yoongi was having none of that.

“I made budae jjigae,” he said, leading me from the living room to the kitchen.

Pouting and almost stomping my feet, I followed. “Where are Kiwoo and Dal?” I asked, referring to the two Big Hit staff who were also staying at the house.

“Taking a nap. We were out the entire day.”

“Is Ky being a good chauffeur?” I asked as we arrived at the kitchen island. “Be sure you’re getting your money’s worth with that stingy ass.”

Yoongi chuckled. “Today he asked for seafood.”

“He really has no shame. Don’t tell me you got him VIP passes for your show in Seoul.”

“I did.”

“That cheap, son of a bitch needs to start paying for stuff. You should have given him nosebleed seats.”

“He took us to a Clippers game again. We took normal seats, though. No press noticed, so I was able to enjoy the game.”

“Did he buy?”

“Why do you think we had normal seats?” Yoongi asked with a smile.

Figures. Kyong would never pay for floor seats.

I took a seat as Yoongi went to the stove.

“So, how did it go today?” he asked, taking a bowl, and starting to serve me.

I gave a stretch and let out a groan. “There was a lot to unpack.”

Giving a brief summary of the session and what Dr. Rob had analyzed, Yoongi listened intently. He gave little nods here and there, agreeing mostly with Dr. Rob’s words.

“Do you think I put Namjoon on a pedestal?” I asked Yoongi after I was done telling him about Dr. Ron’s analysis.

There was a moment of quietness as Yoongi looked to think about his next words. “Namjoonie is quite the individual. Brilliant, talented, and hardworking. It’s impossible to know him and not notice how special he is. Before even meeting him, I was told how gifted he was. I was jealous, I won’t lie. I hadn’t even met the guy and everyone around me was praising this son of a bitch like he was the next Tablo. But then I met him, and I understood what the hype was about. I wasn’t about to admit it, though," he said with a laugh as he remembered.

I smiled back a little. Namjoon and Yoongi's relationship had been quite intense from the beginning. Looking at them, one wouldn't understand how they could ever belong in the same group; let alone, live together 24/7.

Yoongi let out a sigh, his face going back to serious. "That jealousy didn't last long, though. You know why?”

“Why?” I asked, hanging onto his every word.

“I saw the weight he carried. I saw the light he brought to everyone’s eyes. And I witnessed the damage it caused him when people realized he was only a man. He would make a mistake and the way they looked at Namjoonie completely changed. And disappointing others was one of Namjoonie’s worst fears. He was only 17 and he was carrying so much shit. I was grateful that wasn’t me. But I felt empathy for the poor kid.

“For over a decade, I have seen how people look at him like he’s a god. At stadiums, fan meetings, crowds, and random people in public. He’s up on a pedestal to countless individuals. I’ve seen it with some of the guys as well. But I don’t think I’ve seen that look as intense as I’ve seen it in you.”

I took it in, opening myself up to accepting it. “I didn’t know I was doing it. It’s not fair to him,” I said.

Yoongi let out a heavy sigh. “It’s not fair for you either, Maiwa. Dr. Rob is right: you need to start considering your emotional needs.”

I nodded, agreeing with him. I had done it again without realizing it.

“Did Dr. Rob recommend any exercises for that? Give you any homework?” Yoongi asked.

I had and I told Yoongi what they were. “He said I should also get back to writing.”

Yoongi frowned at my use of words. “You haven’t written?”

I shook my head.

“On purpose?”

Nod.

“Why?”

Dr. Rob had asked me the same question. When Yoongi asked it, I reacted the same. Nerves started to kick in. I disliked talking about my emotions, especially when it dealt with my vulnerabilities. “I’ve been too scared to. I reach for a pen or pencil, but then I start panicking. Dr. Rob thinks it’s still tied to my fear. Writing about that night will open up the floodgates to everything I’ve been holding in about him.”

There was a long silence.

I had said a lot and was too chicken shit to say more.

But Yoongi dared to ask. “What have you been holding in?”

A heaviness in my chest appeared. I felt the tears coming before they escaped my eyes. Thinking about this made me feel fucking scared. It was a fear I had always felt but suppressed. But Namjoon had brought it to the surface. In the months we had been together, he had managed to fish it out of me.

But I was reacting like a fish would once it was brought to the surface—suffocated, struggling, fighting to get back in the water. Craving to swim back deep into the sea that was full of darkness. It was a darkness that I was familiar with; however dangerous it might be. But there was no way I could go back. Namjoon’s hook would not let me go.

Warm arms held me, giving me a bit of oxygen as I struggled here on the surface.

“Perhaps it would be better to let it out on paper first,” Yoongi said gently.

I stayed in his embrace for a while, needing some time to calm down. Once I was settled, I made my way up the stairs and forced myself to go to my small office slash mini studio.

Deciding I wasn’t going to hide anymore, I decided to write.

Making my way to my stool, I took out one of my journals and grabbed my favorite guitar. I let my fingers do the work. My voice was shit, but I still hit the record button, not allowing myself to pause. For an hour, I let the mic pick up everything.

Didn’t know how to tell you the truth/ Don’t know why I do what I do/ Don’t know what I’m trying to prove/ Want to know the reasons why I do what I do

 I care for you/ But I’ve acted a fool

 Need a shot glass in my fist/ So I can spill away all my business/ Telling this stranger about you/ I ’m getting too personal

 Can they tell I’ve been crying all night/ I told myself I don’t care for you/ But I know it’s a lie/ Because I do

**************

As much as I was grateful for Yoongi being there, he couldn't stay forever. His departure day had finally arrived.

He allowed me to hug him, making me promise to call him if I needed a friend.

It was hard to see him go, but it was good for me. I needed time by myself to collect my thoughts. Needed to be left alone to write and sing freely. Dr. Rob had been right. Now that I had gotten back to my art, I felt more grounded. The fear I had was starting to get more tolerable.

The day after Yoongi left, I was back at Dr. Rob’s office.

We were in the middle of another session when he caught onto something I had said and he was wanting me to further explain myself.

We were going over the breakup night again and I made a mention how I was silly in trying to hide my fight with my mother in the bathroom. I should have known better than to think Namjoon wouldn’t know I was lying to him. He always knew when I was lying, he knew me too damn well.

“Why is it such a bad thing that he knows you so well?” Dr. Rob asked, curiously. “Every time you say or hint towards how well Namjoon knows you, you have this look on your face. Like you don’t like it.”

“I don’t,” I said honestly, tugging at the ends of my shirt.

“Why is that?”

“I don’t know…. Namjoon always seems to know what’s going on in my head before I do. It’s a little scary.”

Dr. Rob was quiet for a moment as he looked through his notes. “I remember an ex of yours—I believe he was your first serious relationship. You described him as—and I quote, ‘a sick fuck who knew me so well, he knew what to say and do to embarrass and belittle me. It didn’t matter if we were alone or in public, but he had this special power that made him able to read people—especially me—very well. And he used it all for evil.’”

I remembered that ex. He was my first serious boyfriend. He never hit me, but he certainly used words to fuck me up. But Namjoon had never made me feel that way. “Namjoon would never use my secrets against me.”

Dr. Rob gave me a long look before presenting me with an interesting viewpoint. “On the night of your breakup, Namjoon telling you, you ‘gave it up so easily’ made you feel negative. You had entrusted him with something very intimate about your past sexual experiences. You felt safe to do so and that night, he used it against you," he reminded me.

I don't know why I kept forgetting that part.

“Again, Namjoon is human. You need to see him as so. Negating his faults is not fair to him or you,” Dr. Rob said. “He hurt you with those words. Whether he intended to or not. And it’s ok to be upset with him for it.”

I nodded, understanding. “It’s definitely something I’m going to need to talk to him about. It’s just…I don’t like being angry with him. I don’t think I have ever been upset with him for too long—even during our big fight all those years ago. I mostly was hurt but didn’t feel furious with him. Thinking about talking to him regarding this makes me feel anxious, to be honest.”

“I don’t remember you having anxiety when you met with your ex after your breakup. You met with him shortly after starting sessions with me. You wanted closure with him and you seemed pretty relaxed about it. Namjoon is different.”

“He is.”

Dr. Rob stared at me for a long while. “Being upset with Namjoon won’t make you care for him any less. And you care for him a lot.”

I nodded in agreement.

Once again, he was quiet. “I think you know what I’m indirectly saying when I use that word….”

My heart began to race because I do know what he was alluding to. And I knew he was going to make me say it. Because in the many sessions, we had had the past three weeks, I hadn’t said it.

“Well….” He pressed.

I took a breath. I knew I needed to let it out. I needed to face it. Namjoon had always made me feel so incredibly vulnerable and even though he wasn’t here, it certainly felt like he could hear me; as if he was waiting for the words.

 “I love him,” I admitted, feeling my chest crack as I did.

I went through a series of emotions. I was a blubbering mess for a good while. “I’ve never said it first. It always took me months to say it back when my past boyfriends said it to me.”

“Similar to the question I asked earlier about the problem you have with Namjoon knowing you so well: why is it such a bad thing to admit the feeling? Why not ever say it first?”

It took a long moment for me to admit it. I had always known the answer, discovered it a while back right after my breakup with Jerry, but had never let anyone know. “It seems silly, but it feels as if I was giving away a vulnerability as soon as I say it. And I don’t like feeling vulnerable.”

Dr. Rob nodded. “Makes sense you hate feeling vulnerable. If you did, who could you turn to? You’ve shared the stories of the rare times you sought help from your parents only to be brushed away—made to think your emotions were unimportant. It's the fear of being abandoned and/or rejected. It’s manifested into your adulthood and your adult relationships. You allow people in, but only up to a certain point. You draw a line. It was the root of your and Jerry’s problems. You didn't let Jerry in. And now you're doing it with Namjoon.”

A rotten thought made its way into my insecurity. “Jerry wanted to stay,” I pointed out. “He proposed even though we had our problems. Does that mean he loved me more than Namjoon?” The thought was enough to make it feel like a knife was cutting straight into me. To think Namjoon didn’t love me the way I wanted him to….

Dr. Rob took a moment before answering. “That’s one way you can look at it. Or you can look at it like Namjoon knows his worth. Knows that a relationship that isn’t open and honest will fail. He doesn’t want a failed relationship with you.”

He had a point there. Namjoon was fully confident in his worth; he had moments of low self-esteem but would never stay in a situation that would cause him damage.

“How do you think he feels about you?” Dr. Rob asked.

With every fiber in my body, I was certain I knew the answer. It had been a while since I had known the answer. It thrilled me to know it but terrified me. “He loves me.”

“Has he told you he loved you?”

I shook my head, wiping away some tears and keeping my head slightly down.

“Why do you think he hasn’t said it first?”

It was another answer I knew and it broke my heart to know it. “Because he knew how I would react. He was afraid of scaring me off.”

“So you know him just as well as he knows you,” Dr. Rob observed.

We were quiet for a moment. I bathed in the feeling I had admitted those words out loud. Bathed in the scary notion that Namjoon possessed a part of me that no longer belonged to solely me. My heart hadn’t been my own in a while and facing that fact was causing me to go through some frightening emotions.

“Your past boyfriends always judged your male friendships. It was one of the reasons why the relationships didn’t work out. Their accusations would make you angry, and defensive. That’s how you handled disagreements in the past. With Namjoon, you closed up. Like you did many years ago. Back then, he’s the one who messed up and he did his best to correct it.”

“Now I need to correct things. I need to open up,” I concluded.

“If you want a relationship with him—or anyone, for that matter—you’re going to have to. At least, a healthy one.”

“I want to fix things,” I said with determination.

I had messed up this time. It was my turn to correct it. And to correct it, I needed to view these emotions I had for Namjoon as something not scary. Because it wasn’t. It shouldn’t be.

********

AN: So, I woke up sick! Thankfully, I worked on most of the editing on this chapter earlier in the week. That being said, I'm not sure I'll have enough strength and/or time to go over the next chapter before next Friday. I might either post late on the weekend (depending on how I feel) or just take my time with it and post Chapter 28 in two weeks...

Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30

I reached for the phone in my pocket. I was so glued to my spot that if the phone had been in any location in my house, I wouldn’t have been able to reach it. My legs would not have had the strength to take me there.

I sent a quick and short message to the person I always could lean on my aunt Jia.

Even though my emotions were out of whack, my brain still functioned enough to remind me that my Tia Jia had a busy day today. And because of this, I made the message I wrote her sound like I wanted to have a casual conversation with her. Knowing she was busy with other stuff made me feel guilty. I hated to feel like a bother—thank you, childhood trauma.

As I waited for her response, I tried to remember the methods she would use to calm me.

I took a breath, held it for a few seconds, and let it out slowly. I repeated the process a few more times.

After what seemed like an eternity, I received a response from my Tia Jia, telling me she would call me once she got home. That would be hours from now.

Keeping the phone clutched in my hand, I took another breath and tried to settle down. I had managed to get myself to the living room and to the couch. I was able to regain some calmness, but I desperately wanted to talk to my tia.

I didn’t know how long I had been sitting down, but eventually, my phone rang. I was certain it was my tia. Without looking at the caller ID, I picked up, “Hey.” My voice sounded weak.

But the voice on the other end was much deeper than my Tia Jia’s. “Hey, I just finished listening to the track. Sounds great.”

“Who’s this?” I asked, confused. I looked down at the phone, then I noticed the Korean app logo on top of the call.

“Namjoon—RM,” the voice responded.

It clicked. I was cowriting a song for some friends of mine who were in a Korean group, BTS. RM was one of the members and one of the other cowriters. I sent him an email earlier today on the latest version of the track. He was simply calling me regarding it.

“Sorry,” I said.

“It’s ok,” he responded but didn’t say anything else. It was as if he was waiting, listening intently.

I wanted to hang up—I felt the need to lie about being busy and that I could call him later. But I didn’t have it in me to do so. Somehow, a part of me wanted to stay on the phone with RM. Over the years, we mainly had been colleagues. When I first met him, I developed a crush on him. However, I quickly learned how serious and private he was. Unlike most of his team members, who were more open and playful, RM was more reserved and kept a distance from people. I had always been quite the social butterfly and befriended people easily. I learned the hard way that RM took a while to break through. Today, after many years, I could confidently say we were friends. And I knew that’s what I needed right now: a friend. Someone to ground me.

After several long moments of silence, RM spoke. “Maya? Everything ok?” he asks, his voice full of concern.

I wanted to spill my guts, but once again, feeling like I didn’t want to be a burden, I lied. “I’m ok,” I said with a strained voice. But saying this lie out loud was bringing forth the emotions I had been avoiding lately. My breathing became uneven again. I was having difficulty getting the air through my lungs and I was certain RM heard it.

“Maya, slow breaths,” I heard RM say on the other end of the call.

I listened to his voice, feeling like it could be used as an anchor. I followed his instructions.

“Ok, touch each of your fingers as you count them slowly,” he instructed.

I pressed my thumb and pinky together. “One.” I moved my thumb and ring finger together. “Two.” I counted my remaining fingers at the same pace and felt myself feeling a little lighter.

“Good.” RM’s deep voice sounded clearer and I was positive it was due to regaining clarity. “How you feeling?”

“Better.” The emotions were still lingering, but they weren’t too uncontrollable.

“What happened?” Technically, it was a question but the tone in his voice made it sound more like a demand.

And I did. With all the buildup of the last months, having RM as an ear allowed me to lift some of the burden I felt off my shoulders. I spilled everything out. I admitted to my contract ending, my fear of an unclear future, the countless arguments I'd been having with my mother, my breakup with Jerry (I didn’t tell RM the reason we broke up), and the shittiness I felt for not being more upset over my breakup with Jerry—we had been together for years. Why was I not more upset??

RM let me let it all out for a good hour, giving out simple “yeahs” here and there, but mostly listening intently. And it felt good. I was never one to vent but knew I needed to. I was grateful RM allowed me to do this with him.

When it seemed as if I was done, he didn’t give advice but seemed to validate my feelings. “It’s only natural you’re going to feel stressed. All of that going through your head is bound to make your body react the way it did. I’m sure it was a panic attack you had?” It seemed more of a question than a statement.

“Yeah. I’ve had them a few times before. Usually, my aunt Jia is the one who calms things down a bit,” I said.

“Is she your Korean aunt? The one who taught you the language?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“How often do you get panic attacks?”

I thought about it for a moment. “Not very often. Just when things are too stressful, I think.”

“You think? You’ve never looked into it? To know what the cause is?”

“No, I don’t like medication. And I hate going to a doctor.” I didn’t want prescribed medication. There was too much of a history there.

“Well, you might not have to take medication. Perhaps a therapist can help figure out the root of the problem. They could assist in figuring out methods you could use to balance things to prevent the attacks from even happening—notice the signs before it gets too out of control.” He wasn’t the first to suggest therapy.

I wasn’t sure what it was about this time hearing I should see a therapist. Maybe it was because it was right after an episode had occurred or maybe because, in the past year, RM was the third person to suggest professional help. I knew about RM’s mental health struggles and knew he had sought assistance as well.

“Maybe I should see someone,” I said, surprising myself.

“You should,” he said gently.

~~~~~

Three weeks and two therapists later, I found myself sitting in the waiting room of my third therapist, feeling a combination of nerves and slight pessimism. The previous therapists I had met with didn’t seem to fit well—I had felt disappointed both times.

As much as I wanted to give up on finding the right person to help me, I tried to keep optimistic about getting the help I knew I needed.

Being a good support system, RM checked on me often. It felt as if we spoke every day, whether it was through messages or on the phone. He wanted to ensure I kept looking for the right person to assist me.

I was currently messaging RM as I sat in the lobby of my third therapist. He had sent me a paragraph of words of encouragement when the lady at the desk called my name. “Dr. Rob is ready for you, miss,” she stated.

I made my way over to the door, sending a quick response to RM to tell him I was about to meet my third (and hopefully last) therapist.

“hwaiting!” he responded.

I took a breath and reached to open the door.

But someone beat me to it. The door swung open and standing on the other side of the door, was a tall redhead. An easy smile was on his face as he said, “Welcome Maya."

*************

AN: Thank you to whoever is reading this. I appreciate you giving this story a shot. I have been working on it for close to a year, not wanting to start posting until I had the majority of the story finished. I want to release a chapter on a weekly basis and I know myself well enough to know I get writer's block every once in a while; I don't want it to get in the way of a regular posting. 🥰 Also, I posted this as "reader" to bring in more audience. I'm doing my best not to be too specific in Maya's look. I gave her a name because it works better for me as a writer. I find "Y/N" too much of a distraction. I always end up calling the reader "Yoon" or "Yuna" in my head to make it easier. There WILL be smut, but it will be many chapters from now.

Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30

MASTERLIST

It sucked having to quarantine in a home that wasn’t mine. However, I was grateful to Jimin for lending me his house for the time being. My apartment wasn’t ready, so Jimin had been my only hope. He wasn’t scheduled to get back to town for a couple more weeks. I have no idea where I would be crashing after that, but that was something I could worry about later.

Right now, I only had the energy to stress about money. And food.

I had finished almost everything edible in Jimin’s kitchen. I was running out of resources and needed the damn banks to allow me access to my accounts. Of course, they wanted me to be there in person, but it was difficult to do so in the middle of a mandatory 10-day quarantine. After landing in Seoul, which by some miracle no one leaked to the media, I came straight to Jimin’s house, tested, and was told to stay until I was cleared.

Asking for favors was not easy for me and I had asked enough of Jimin already. Messaging him about needing him to use his own funds to get me food had been embarrassing. He said he would have things delivered to me by the morning. I would just have to hold tight for the night.

My stress was causing great strain and the only thing I could think to calm myself was to set my phone down and do something else. I read a book, listened to music, and finally decided to take a long bath. I had kept my phone away on purpose.

And that had been a bad idea.

Had I kept my phone next to me, I would have gotten a heads-up from Jimin.

But I hadn’t. And now I was staring at a perfectly chiseled Adonis, at a loss for words.

This had not been part of the plan.

His splendor made me stop in my tracks as I exited Jimin’s room after showering. My eyes took in his face. His leveled, smoothed nose, his heavy-lidded eyes, and round, luscious lips couldn’t look more perfect. His jaw was set, his eyes round in an almost-wondered look.

The sudden realization that I hadn’t seen him in a month was physically catching up to me. My legs wanted to run to him. My arms wanted to wrap themselves around his shoulders. My lips wanted to claim his. My soul had missed him, but so had my body. And it was needing to make contact. It was craving him.

“What are you doing here?” he suddenly asked, his eyes glaring at me now.

I had never seen his face switch so quickly. One moment he looked too stunned to speak and the next he was looking at me like some bug he wanted to squash.

But rather than react sadly to hearing his tone, my body seemed to melt. My ears had also missed the deep timbre of his voice. Even if it had some venom in it.

“You were just gonna come back to town and not even call?” Namjoon demanded. His words began to make snap me out of my hypnotism. “You’ve ignored all my messages, so it shouldn’t surprise me you want to physically avoid me.”

My brain caught up and my body finally caught up. My mouth opened to speak, but I was silenced before I could even start.

Namjoon continued with his anger. Continued voicing his hurt. “Do you have any idea how shitty that feels? I calledyou, messaged you. I fucking sounded like a goddamn dog begging for forgiveness. And you couldn’t even bother giving me a response? You contacted Jimin right away but not me? Am I unworthy?”

His thinking or saying that he was unworthy of anything ripped something inside. I finally spoke. “I wanted to wait until my quarantine was over. I’m stuck here for 10 days. If I were to have called you, I would have immediately wanted to see you—and I can’t. There’s a mandate.”

He shakes his head. His eyes are looking at me, but he doesn’t see me. It’s like he’s looking at a stranger who’s feeding him lies.

“Ask my Tia Jia,” I said desperately, needing him to believe me. “My quarantine is up in a few days. After, I was going to call you so we could meet.”

“She’ll lie for you,” he accused.

“Then ask Yoongi. I told him I was going to call you first thing after I got the green light.”

He snickered, the glare in his eyes still there. “Of course, you still communicate with Yoongi. You tell me him more than you tell me.”

He was so full of anger that he wasn’t seeing things clearly. He was putting up walls. It was a defense mechanism, I knew it. I needed to keep my calm, make him see. “No one knows me the way you know me, Namjoon,” I said gently, hoping he recognized this was true.

My calmness wasn’t having the effect I wanted to have on him. He didn’t want me calm. But he wanted me to meet his energy.

“Except those other guys who slid inside you like I did that night. They know you like I know you,” he said without thinking, going for the jugular. Needing me hurt the way he was hurting.

His eyes went wide with horror as soon as the words left his mouth. Instant regret.

But the words couldn’t be sucked back in. They were in the air, shooting straight at me like daggers. And they hurt me exactly the way he intended.

I took in a sharp breath, feeling the blades cut right through my skin and hit my chest.

I turned away, feeling the tears sting my eyes. My body reacted like it always did at being wounded, it recoiled. My feet took some towards Jimin’s room. I couldn’t lose it in front of him.

But he was faster. His body blocked me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I—I’m a fucking idiot.” His voice was strained. “Maya, I am so sorry. I don’t know why I said it. I was wrong.”

My feet moved back, keeping my body safe from his.

“I am so sorry. I’m a fucking prick.” He went down to his knees, his face twisted in remorse. He got on the ground, bowing down and pleading. “Please.”

Hot tears came streaming down as I spoke. “I wasn’t with you for the sex. No one knows me like you—emotionally. No one makes me feel the way you do. I felt safe around you, but then…when you said that—” A sob came out as I remembered.

Walking down the halls barefoot with only my skirt and top.

Tears had smeared off my makeup. I looked like a goddamn wreck. My shoes and undergarments had been left behind. Security both gawked at me and looked away in shame.

Humiliation of a slut.

“I’m sorry; I’m sorry,” he repeated, his head bowing as low as it could.

I took breaths to get ahold of myself. “This is why it’s difficult to let someone in. Because when I do, they have ammunition to use against me. They know what to say, what information to use to belittle me.” It felt so foreign to be this honest with him; it was uncomfortable. But I forced myself to feel the discomfort. “No one’s ever known me the way you have. Every time I’m with you, you reveal some knowledge you have of me that no one has ever noticed about it. It makes me feel so naked. I hated it.”

His head remained on the ground, his body slightly shaking from his own sobs.

Unlike seeing my mother in a state of disarray, I’m fully moved by seeing Namjoon like this. Seeing his regret made me want to immediately give in and forgive him.

But I shouldn’t. I needed to be smart about all of this. It was not ok what he had said to me. Both times.

“Why did you say it?” I demanded.

“I don’t know," he answered with his head still down.

No, I wasn't going to accept that. “You must know. As you said, it’s been a month. You’re telling me you haven’t thought about why you said it all this time?”

He calmed himself and then lifted his head, his eyes meeting mine. “It was out of anger.”

“You wanted to hurt me?”

“Yes.” He looked at me with pain in his eyes. “When I said it that night, it was because I thought I meant nothing to you. It made me angry and I wanted to hurt you. I remember what your exes used to say to you and it slipped. This time, the same thing happened. I felt you cared more for Yoongi and Jimin—feels like I’m not high on your list.”

To think he would stoop so low and try to damage me—on purpose—the same way my exes had ripped something in me. I never would have thought Namjoon to be someone so…normal. Such a human quality to be imperfect.

“I need to know," I forced myself to say. I didn't want to continue this talk. I was feeling so much, but I knew I had to continue. "You have to be honest. Do you have a problem with my sexual past?”

He shook his head, his face serious and steady. “No. You have a past and I would be foolish and selfish to not want you to have one. What I’ve always cared about is how you treat and see me. That's where all the anger came from, I swear.”

I understood. He had been an ass for saying it—twice—but anger was something I could easily understand.

He hung his head again and apologized once more. He was clearly remorseful.

However, I needed to set boundaries. I needed to stand up for myself. “When I open up to you, I expect you not to throw it back at me. It will only make me pull away from you.”

He sat back up and nodded. His face was flushed, tears still coming down. He apologized again.

“I appreciate the apology,” I said genuinely. I turned towards the couch. “Let’s sit down. You’re gonna hurt your knees.” I didn’t wait for his response and went towards the couch.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him get up and walk toward the empty chair. I wasn’t sure if it was because of his presence or due to feeling a sudden chill, but I shivered. Either reason was valid for my body reacting that way. I looked around for the hoodie I had been using in quarantine. I found it on the chair that Namjoon was starting to descend on. Before I could ask if he could hand it over, I noticed something about it.

It was his.

Of course, I knew it was his hoodie I had been wearing. He had left it in LA and I had used it several times since our breakup. However, wearing it in front of him wasn't appropriate.

I tried not to disguise the fact that I was looking for something, pretending it was the blanket on the couch I had been looking for. However, it was no use. He had noticed. His eyes went to the hoodie behind him and a slightly embarrassed look spread across his face.

However, even though he looked awkward, he still reached for it. “You can—”

Grabbing the blanket, I made sure to be extra noise in wrapping it around me, draining out his words. Thankfully, he was quick to catch onto what I was doing and shut up.

As I turned to him, I noticed we were a little too close. And even though my body wanted to get closer to him than I already was, my brain reminded me of the mandate. I was already breaking so many laws with Namjoon being here, I at least wanted to make sure we followed the six feet rule.

After a few moments of silence, Namjoon opened his mouth, ready to start the talk but I cut him off. “Let me start.”

He nodded and kept silent.

Meeting his eyes, I said some words I wanted to say that night. “I need to apologize as well.”

His eyes stayed on me and said nothing.

I took a breath and started what I had set out to do after walking out of Sihyuk’s house about a week ago. “You told me multiple times what you wanted from the relationship—you were very clear. You wanted transparency and I didn’t give you that. I was wrong for how I behaved. For keeping our relationship a secret from my family. I recognize I was dismissive of your emotions. I am very sorry for that.”

He nodded, accepting my apology, but he needed more words from me. “Why did you want to keep me a secret from them? It felt like I was this dirty little secret. I’ll be honest, these last few weeks, the thought that you might have someone on the side came to mind.”

I shook my head, appalled. “I never—”

“I know,” he cut me off. “You would never do something like that. It was a thought that came to mind several times. I want to be fully honest about it. My head went into some pretty dark places these last few weeks. My opinion of you wasn’t very good.”

Guilt stabbed at my chest. I knew he was being with these words. “I’m sorry.”

“Can I know why you refused to tell your family?” He did his best not to sound hurt.

But I knew Namjoon well enough to hear it. “I genuinely thought that not telling my brothers had been an oversight, but after talking to Dr. Rob, I see things differently now.”

He looked a bit shocked. “You’re seeing your therapist again?”

I nodded. “After that night, I kind of had a breakdown. Similar to years ago when I was in the middle of an anxiety attack. After a few days, I knew I needed help. Dr. Rob has been helping me figure some things out—find out why I’ve had this wall up with you.” Using the blanket as a guard, I tugged it tighter around my body as I felt my anxiety start spiking. “I learned that me keeping you at a distance stems from childhood trauma.”

I went on to explain what I had discovered with Dr. Rob. I went into a little more detail about what I witnessed as a kid with my parents. Made the connection that the toxic relationship I grew up watching damaged my trust in a partner. Boyfriends, to me, were a tainted category.

“I didn’t tell my parents about us at first because I don’t have a close relationship with them. I might talk to them on a weekly basis, but it’s always short and I never share anything meaningful. Plus, I’m sure my mother’s ability to taint anything I care about had something to do with it. Not telling her kept you safe for me. I can easily see her make a comment about how wrong I am for you. She did it several times with Jerry. I didn’t want her doing that with you.”

Namjoon’s face was calm, but his eyes were very loud about how he felt about hearing this.

“And I think there are a few reasons why I didn’t tell my brothers. One of them was because it would make us more real. Which increased the possibility of you leaving. And that scared me.” The abandonment issues I didn’t know I had started to resurface. Now that I could identify the feeling, I took notice of it quickly. “The only guys who stuck around were the bad ones.”

“Jerry was willing to stick around,” he pointed out immediately. “And he was great.”

“But he didn’t really know me. I kept a lot of things from him. And the things I did tell him, he dismissed,” I countered back.

“But I do and I want to be with you,” he said without hesitation.

My heart ached for multiple reasons. “Which makes you more dangerous. It’s a double-edged sword.”

“I know I fucked up. And I am more than willing to ask for forgiveness every day—”

I cut him off. “No. I know you regret it and know you mean your apology. I forgive you. I don’t want it to become something that hangs over us. I’m still hurt by it, but it won’t last.”

He gave a slight nod. After a quiet moment, he spoke up. “I really don’t want to push you away. But I want to be let in. And I want to know that you’ll allow me in.”

I held onto his eyes, noticing how pleading they looked. I had to be honest. I couldn’t sugarcoat this. “It’s gonna be tough for me. Letting someone in is not easy. The last people I let in and depended on ended up fucking me up. I put a wall up for survival and it’s been hard bringing it down. I’ve always been aware of the wall’s presence and I’ve never minded it. But with you, I mind. I don’t want to keep you out. Even if my fight or flight instincts are screaming at me.”

He looked away, seeming to think about something.

It was a look I had seen far too often, especially more toward the end of our relationship. He was holding back. And like always, I wanted to know what was on his mind. “What? Tell me.” I braced myself for whatever he was about to say.

He didn’t meet my eyes but answered my question. “When we fought that one night—not the very last one, but the one when you almost left in the middle of the night…?”

“Yeah…?”

“You were reliving something….”

I thought back, trying to recall that night.

“Your anxiety kicked in…”

I remembered. “Mm-hmmm.”

“What was it?” There was a slight look of reluctance like he was afraid to ask. Afraid of my reaction. Afraid I might not answer.

I had told him I wanted to let him in, now I had to prove it. “A fight between my parents.”

His facial features relaxed a bit. “What was it about what I did that triggered the memory?”

The image of his fiery brown eyes crossed my mind. Eyes that were always so warm when I looked into them had been icy that night. “Your anger. You’ve gotten mad at me before, but that look…that was real anger towards me.” My eyes stayed on his as I told him what I discovered with Dr. Rob. “I know you’re nothing like my parents. But that night emotions were already escalating. My feelings for you were getting more intense. Internally, I was fighting with my defenses. I wanted to let you in and I also wanted to keep you away. Sadly, the wall won that night. The image of my parents fighting pushed me to keep it up. Not to mention that I’ve had prior relationships that around the four-month period, their demeanor changed. The thought did cross my mind that you were going to turn into one of them.”

He thought for a long moment, considering my words. He looked down at his feet, which were joined. He moved his feet a bit, thinking.

“What?” I asked, knowing he was hesitating in asking something serious.

He didn’t meet my eyes but did speak up. “I thought you might have been reliving something else that night.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“Something you haven’t been able to tell me. Something you’re keeping secret.” The cocoa browns that pulled so many feelings out of me came up. “There’s something I want to know. I’ve been holding back in asking because I’ve never wanted to push you to tell me anything you’re not ready to. But it’s gotten to the point where I keep imagining the absolute worst.” A stream of tears began to come down as he braved himself. “What happened to you that caused the anxiety attack years ago?”

Another difficult hurdle had come. Tears were also coming out of me and I took a few breaths to get myself under control. “I want to share everything with you, Namjoon. But some things are difficult to talk about. Some things that,” flashes of the scariest moments of my life came to the forefront, threatening to suck me in. The bulwark I had built since childhood stood tall and strong, though, keeping the old memories at a distance. That fucking wall was my protector just as much as it was my poison. “I don’t want to ever relive,” I finished as I caught on to my words again. “There are some things I suppressed and can’t remember. There are other memories I wish I could forget.”

He cut me off, a look full of concern as he witnessed my state. “I don’t want you to relive something that is going to do more damage. I don’t want you to have to dig in too deep that you get lost.” The tears coming down from him were probably thicker than mine. “I just wanted to help you. It seemed like there was something you were going through and I wanted to comfort you. Especially since you weren’t seeing your therapist anymore.”

I nodded, agreeing with him wholeheartedly. “I shouldn’t have stopped therapy. I should have continued it. I thought I had a handle on things, but I didn’t.” I took a breath and finally said the words I had practiced so much with Dr. Rob. “I wasn’t prepared before in letting a significant other in. But I want to. I want to let you in. And I promise that I am working on it and will continue to work on it. I will tell you in more detail about what happened, but I won’t tell you everything this time.”

He waited patiently. “Whatever you want to tell me. And whatever you don’t or can’t, that’s ok with me, too. As long as you’re getting help is what matters.”

******Tugging the blanket around me, I finally told him. “Around the time my contract was about to expire, I was to have a meeting with some executives and Ky was supposed to be there. However, things happened and Ky couldn’t be there and neither could some of the executives. Only one of them met with me. The meeting started ok, but somehow it turned into a nightmare. The executive made comments that hinted at me doing him sexual favors in exchange for a better contract. It was surreal at first; I thought it was some joke. But then he walked over to me. He got too close. I froze. I felt my shirt come undone.”*******

I took the chance of stealing a look at Namjoon, wondering how he was taking this.

His face was expressionless. He kept his eyes on me with no hint of anger or pain. I let out a breath, relieved. It was something I feared a little. Namjoon had always been one to control his emotions, always relying on his head. But there was always the possibility of his emotions getting the best of him. I knew if he did lose control, I would focus on him rather than myself.

I was about to continue but then I noticed his fists. They were clenched. His arms tightened. He was angry, I could feel it now.

I instantly began to worry about him.

“What then, babe?” Namjoon said, pulling my focus away. “Don’t focus on me. Go on.” He had caught my stare.

I took a breath and continued to speak about my assault. I didn’t give him too many details, still not feeling ready to tell him everything. He sat still and listened. I told him about my talk with my mother and when I got a bit emotional, he made a move to move toward me.

With a shake of the head, I pleaded him to stay where he was. “If you hug me, I’ll come apart. And I want to get through this.”

He respected this and stayed in his seat. However, he did lean forward, looking ready to rush to my side as soon as I gave him the go-ahead.

A good while later, I was certain I had shared as much as I could about my trauma. I shed many tears, but I didn’t feel as bad as I thought I would.

Looking out the window, I could only imagine what time it was. It was pitch black. This had taken a lot longer than I thought.

“Thank you for sharing that with me. I bet it wasn’t easy,” he said genuinely, a look of complete care on his face.

“Thank you for listening,” I responded.

“I like listening to you.” His words moved something in me.

Having just shared so much with him, I felt a shift between us. I felt a shift in myself. The fact that he had sat there for hours listening to me and respecting my boundaries moved something in me. Suddenly, I had the urge to tell him everything; tell him exactly what I thought of him but had been too afraid to share in the past.

“There's more I need to tell you," I said, building up even more courage.

I was certain he could tell I was getting nervous. He offered me one of my favorite smiles. "I'm all ears."

I took a deep breath and began to let my heart pour out. "You are, without a doubt, the best human I know. You’re kind, gentle, resilient, positive, and empathetic. You deserve the goddamn world.” Talking about my admiration for him was making me quite emotional. So emotional that I started to cry. What I felt for Namjoon was not something that I had ever allowed myself to feel. Dr. Rob said that it would take some time to talk openly about this positive emotion without my body physically responding this way.

I was quick to notice how Namjoon shook his head, disagreeing with my view of him.

But I needed him to know how I saw him. “Despite the negativity thrown at you, you keep your composure. You stay collected when it matters most. It’s one of the many reasons why I fell for you.” Looking into his beautiful features, I continued my praises. “And there are so many qualities that made me fall for you—many physical. Like your pout. The pout you make when you mutter to yourself. And how you look when you come out of the shower in all your gloriousperfection.” He blushed wildly at this. But I wasn’t done. “When you chow down your third bowl of noodles, your Adam’s apple bobs in this very sexy way. And my favorite thing about you is how you make me feel happy.” A burst of crazed laughter came out of me, thinking of all the little moments with Namjoon. The last few weeks we had been together, this was one of the emotions I had felt and tried to block: happiness. It was so foreign to me, so I had naturally recoiled from it. However, in the month away from him, I came to find that not feeling happiness was a feeling I did not want.

He took a breath, wiped some tears, and looked directly at me. He opened his mouth, ready to say something.

But I wasn’t done. There was one last thing I needed to tell him. The most important thing I knew I would ever say. “I love you, Kim Namjoon.”

It felt like a breath of fresh air saying it. While it was difficult getting to this point, letting out the words felt good. Felt so right.

My eyes did not sway from his cocoa browns. His body relaxed—he looked relieved.

I was bathing in the happiness of finally saying the words to him but then noticed him getting to his feet. I acted instinctively and got up, wanting to get close to him. However, I remembered I was under quarantine. If I had the virus, he might get sick again. It would mess up his entire schedule. I backed away as he made a reach for him. “Six feet,” I reminded him.

He followed me, a determined look in his eyes. “Fuck the six feet.” He reached out, catching my upper arm and keeping me in place.

“Namjoon—” The air got caught in my lungs as his touch sent thrills throughout my skin. Every cell sang in joy. However, my brain demanded I take back control. I tried to pull away.

His bold and gentle hands came to my face, keeping me. His mystic eyes held my gaze.

My brain and body became mush at that point, giving up the battle. I sighed into his touch.

“Say it again,” his honeyed voice said above a whisper.

I don’t think I could ever deny him anything. “I love you, Kim Namjoon.” My heart fluttered at hearing myself say it.

I was entrusting him with my heart. And as I felt him around me, I was positive he would protect it and me at all costs.

He let out a kind of laugh I had never heard him make. It was high and kind of panty. He sounded a bit delirious. I saw the smile I had been missing for over a month. His eyes squinted as his smile widened. His nose scrunched up a bit, changing the freckled constellations on his beautiful canvas. How had I lasted so long without seeing this expression every day?

“I really missed these,” I said, my fingers reaching up and tracing the cluster of marks around his eyes and nose.

His hands moved down to my middle and tightened around me. His face came down to my neck, his nose hitting the spot between my ear and neck. He took a deep inhale. “I missed you.”

I turned my head towards his own neck, wanting to smell him back. My nose grazed his skin and I breathed in his woodsy scent.

We stayed like that for a long time, until he finally pulled up. His arms stayed around me. “I found out how I felt about you while I was with my last girlfriend,” he said, almost out of nowhere.

My state of happiness made my mind not work fast enough. “Huh?”

He went out to further explain. “I broke up with my ex a year ago because I was falling for you. By the time we were in the backhouse in the soop, I was a goner. I knew that week.” His eyes stayed on me, one of his palms back to stroking my face. “I love you, Mayahuel.”

I never thought my heart would feel ready to combust. Every fiber of my body tingled as small amounts of electricity danced inside my cells. Tears of happiness erupted once again.

More happy pecks were shared.

It started light, but I quickly felt the heat start kicking in. Not wanting Jimin’s house to be the next place we consummated our new relationship, I decided to kid around with him. “Just don’t forget I’m the one who said it first.”

He let out a light laugh. “You might have said it first, but I definitely felt it first. I let you say it first, know that,” he said teasingly, biting my lower lip.

I gave him a light smack. “You really don’t want to turn this into a competition,” I warned. “I probably fell in love with you years ago, I just was suppressing it.”

“You said it was only a crush!”

I shrugged my shoulders. “That’s not the story I’ll be telling everyone,” I said, giving him a playful smile.

“You better play nice or I won’t feed you tomorrow,” he warned. “I know you’re running out of food. I’ll let you starve,” he joked with a flirtatious smile.

Giving him another smack, I let out a pout. “Be nice to me. All I’ve had today has been ramen which was probably five years old. I found it way in the back of some dirty cupboard.”

With that, Namjoon immediately pulled out his phone and ordered multiple dishes from one of my favorite places. He went on to order me groceries that would probably last me a week. He ignored the dozen times I told him he was going overboard.

I openly rolled my eyes at him.

He didn’t answer me; his eyes looking at my arms. We were both now on the couch, waiting on the food. His body and the blanket were providing a nice warmth, but it wasn’t enough for my body. “How are you still cold?” He reached over to grab the hoodie on the chair.

However, I stopped him. “Can I have the one you have on instead?”

“Why?” he asked with a frown, but I didn’t miss how he started to take off his hoodie.

“The other one has lost your smell,” I said honestly. “Plus, this one is already warm.”

He let out a chuckle, the hoodie now off him. He handed it to me gently.

As I put it on, I took in his body. I hadn’t noticed before because Namjoon tended to wear baggy clothes. He rarely put on clothes that rightly fit his frame. But now, without the sweater, I saw how much weight he had lost.

“Namjoon,” I said, concerned.

“What?” he asked, confused by my reaction.

“You look…different.” I wanted to say scrawny, but that wasn’t a nice word to use.

He waved his hand, dismissing it. “It’s not just because of what happened. I was traveling, remember? No time for the gym. Then I ended up being stuck indoors for close to three weeks. I got an appointment to meet with my trainer in a few days.”

I gave a nod, but still couldn’t help but feel guilty for my part in his state.

Namjoon was quick to catch on to my emotions. “Hey,” he said, tipping my chin up to meet his gaze. “No guilt, ok? It was a bad time, but we’re not going back there. We’re looking ahead.”

The next nod I gave was a little more confident.

Then, a chime came on, signaling our delivery had arrived. After retrieving the bags of food, we sat on the floor to eat. I probably shouldn’t be eating this late, but I was starving.

“What are your plans after coming out of quarantine? Can your apartment be ready by the time Jimin gets back?” Namjoon asked as he fed me some of his noodles.

I took them, hungrily. “I’m hoping so. I really hate apartment shopping.”

“Stay with me until it’s ready,” Namjoon immediately offered.

“Are we ready for that?” I asked him honestly.

He thought for a moment. “I want to be, but maybe we aren’t?”

“If you have to ask, then we aren’t. I don’t want to take a step we’re unsure of.”

He nodded and took a big bite from his noodles.

“Where do you want from us?” I asked. “I know you’ve always wanted to share your thoughts but held back. I don’t want to keep you from voicing what you want to say.”

He thought for a moment. “I want a nice dinner with you and my parents. I want to properly introduce you. I’d like to see if it’s at all possible to meet with your aunt Jia and Uncle John, formally. You consider them more like your parents.”

I smiled, thinking his wants were easy to meet. “My aunt and uncle will be here in a few weeks, so that’s easy to make happen.”

He frowned. “They’re coming? What for? Just for a visit?”

“Well, Sihyuk actually invited them. They’ll be visiting for about two weeks.”

“Why does Sihyuk want to meet with them?”

I then told him.

*********

~NAMJOON~

Weeks later….

There was only reason Namjoon had gone to HYBE on his day off was for moral support. Today was the day. And he was positive Maya’s anxiety would be spiking. He had seen her over his place earlier and her nerves were already jittery.

The elevator doors opened to his designated floor. He walked out and headed to the lobby, seeing one man and two women speaking to each other. The man and the older woman were sitting on the couch as the younger woman paced in front of them.

Yeah, her anxiety was spiking, Namjoon thought as he quickened his pace.

They were in such heavy discussion; he was positive they hadn’t heard him.

The couple was the first to notice him. He gave them a smile and polite bow.

Maya’s aunt and uncle got to their feet and greeted Namjoon back.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed Maya had stopped pacing and making her way to him. “What are you doing here?” she asked him. She was trying to hide the feeling of relief.

If her aunt and uncle hadn’t been present, he would have wrapped her in his arms to calm her. However, he had been raised to be a proper, Korean man and kept a proper distance. He got as close as he felt was respectful. “I told you I would meet you here,” he reminded her.

“Yeah, but I thought you meant it would be after the meeting.” He noticed how her legs leaned towards him, but she also kept her distance. She knew him well to know what he was comfortable with when it came to PDA. They had met with her aunt and uncle a few times for her to know.

“I wanted to be here to escort you if you wanted. And to answer any last-minute questions.”

“So, it really is going to be just the three of us and him? No other executives? No lawyers?” Asked Jia, still looking like she didn’t believe what had been said to her several times.

Namjoon smiled and nodded. “Sihyuknim cares and respects his artists. Having a meeting with the artist and their parents is something very important to him. He wants the parents to know he’s taking good care of their child. That he is willing to treat the artist like extended family. He did the same with us. It was just us, our parents—no lawyers—and we signed the contracts. It’s the reason why Big Hit is so small. He wants it to be a family business.”

John’s chest puffed a bit like he loved the idea that he was considered to be Maya’s parent. Jia’s smile spread wide, clearly feeling the same. There were even some tears in her eyes.

Jia seemed to shake herself out of it. “Namjoonah, is there a particular wine your parents really like? Mayita says they like wine but is unsure which is their favorite,” Jia said.

“I’ll message you an image of it,” Namjoon promised.

Maya’s aunt and uncle were going to meet Namjoon’s parents tonight. It had been Namjoon’s mother who had invited Maya’s family over.

Maya had been over for dinner at his parents' every weekend. Namjoon also had a feeling Eomuni would be inviting them to the house for Seollol.

“We would appreciate that, thank you,” responded Jia.

“How have you guys been sleeping?” Namjoon asked, curious. He remembered John mentioning the other day how the time difference was affecting his sleep.

“Better last night,” John said.

They were staying in Maya’s new apartment. Her old apartment was having too many issues with the renovations and wasn’t going to be ready for the initial date they had given Maya. The landlord let Maya out of her lease early, so she was able to look for another apartment.

While it had caused a lot of stress for Maya for a couple of weeks, something good came out of it. She had found an apartment in Namjoon’s community, so she was now a lot closer. They wouldn’t need to use so many drivers now since they were only walking distance from one another.

But even though they saw each other every day, they didn’t sleep in each other’s place. This time, Namjoon wanted to make sure their emotions were stable before they took that next step. Like before, Maya assured Namjoon that once he was ready then she would be, too. And it’s not like he didn’t want to sleep with her, because goddammit he did.

However, he was really enjoying the stage they were in. During the few weeks they had gotten back together, Maya had done such a turn-around. She was emotionally open and communicated very well with Namjoon. Gone were the days that she kept things to herself. The only time she did this was when she wasn’t sure what she was going through. And she told Namjoon so. When she got confused about something, rather than closing up, she let Namjoon know she needed time to decipher what she was feeling or thinking. This change in her made Namjoon fall deeper in love with her. He hadn’t thought it was possible, but it was the truth.

And the more he fell in love with her, the more he was drawn to her physically. It was getting harder to keep his hands off her. He was ready to make that next step with her. And he had a feeling it might be tonight. There were just a few things he needed to take care of.

“Should we start heading up?” asked John as he looked down at his watch.

We all turned to Maya.

She nodded, looking at little nervous.

Jia reached over and squeezed her arm before taking her husband’s hand. “Let’s go.”

John made a motion for Maya to lead the way.

As Maya walked, she took hold of Namjoon’s arm.

Together, they all walked towards the elevator. Plenty of eyes turned towards the four of them, their gaze lingering on Maya’s arm linked through Namjoon’s. He was sure Maya noticed the stares as well.

She didn’t seem bothered by them, though. She kept her head high in confidence.

Namjoon felt his heart swell and witnessed Maya feeling indifferent to the staff learning about her possibly romantic relationship with Bagntan’s leader, RM.

Yeah, he was definitely taking her to bed tonight.

**************

MASTERLIST

Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30 Sequel (Book II)

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AN: This concludes the story I planned for Maya and Namjoon! Thank you everyone for coming along on this journey! I adored writing these two.

However, I do have some news—good or bad, I don't know. This story will be continuing. I haven’t been able to get rid of these two from my head. Mostly it’s because RM smutty songs keep inspiring me. The first chapter of their new story is up and linked here.

I have the story (mostly) mapped out. It won’t be a story as long as this one ( I hope). It will work mostly as a journey of the two learning how to navigate through a mature, adult relationship. I intend to have an equal amount of fluff and smut in every chapter. It will work more like chapters of drabbles than one, big story.