I make my way over to the staff room, but my gaze still lingers on him. Now he’s reading one of his books again and I can’t help but notice that he looks exhausted. Mostly he’s wearing casual, but still sort of trendy clothes. Today, he’s wearing a simple gray hoodie with unruly hair and jogging pants. It still looks hot though, maybe even more than usual. And no that didn’t mean I tend to look at him more than I should.

I sigh and finally manage to look where I’m actually going.

Whenever he is here, he’s reading, writing or doing something on his laptop. Ever since I noticed him (which had basically been the day I started working here), I told myself I would chat him up someday.

Well, guess who still didn’t gather the courage to do so.

The staff room door falls shut behind me and I lean against it, sighing. I’ve been working here for half a year, what was so hard to start a conversation with someone? Especially someone who is always reading a book you could start a conversation about? Right, being afraid of getting rejected.

He probably wouldn’t want to talk to me anyway. I mean he’s the most charming person ever when he orders his Iced Americano, but he obviously got stuff to do, so I would only bother him.

Having these thoughts, I spent my break eating lunch and checking my social media. When I come back to the counter, I glance at the corner again, but he is gone.

The next few weeks continue as usual, although I notice that our regular is not visiting as often as he used to. And every time he actually shows up, his orders of coffee and the dark circles under his eyes increase.

Today is one of these days and although he is a stranger, I can’t help but feel worried. Just a minute ago he ordered his third coffee, extra strong.

I chew on my lip as I prepare his order. Maybe I should ask him if he’s alright? After I finish making his coffee I take a look at the clock and walk over to Christie who is working with me again today. The shop is rather empty now, so I lean closer to her.

“Hey do you mind if I take my break right now?” I ask her in a muted voice.

She instantly turns and looks at me with huge, twinkling eyes.

“Are you going to talk to him?!” She exclaimed a little too loud for my taste.

“Shhhh!!” I put my hand over her mouth hastily and look around the shop. Phew, it seems like he didn’t hear it.

“I guess?” I shrug as I take my hand from her mouth, while giving her a warning look. “I mean he doesn’t look like he is doing very well, so I thought I’d at least ask him how he’s doing…”

“And you think he’d tell you?” She retorted and I rolled my eyes at her.

“No. But it’s the intention that counts!”

“Not when you want to get into his pants.” She smirked and I swatted at her arm.

“I don’t want to get into his pants!” I denied maybe a little too quickly. I felt heat rising to my cheeks and turned around, heading his way.

“Anyway if you need me, you know where you can find me.” I stated, making my way over to his table.

My feet slowed down as I neared his table. How should I start this conversation? I can’t just show up and ask him if he is stressed out or something. My eyes focused on the book he was holding in his hand.

“The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas?” I read out loud and he lowered his book to look at me.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, right. You know the book?” He asked me and I shook my head.

“No, only read the title out loud.” I admitted and felt the blush creeping up again.

I set his coffee down on the table and sat down on the seat on the opposite side of the table.

“So what is it about?”

“It’s just a short story. There is this town Omelas and everyone living there is happy and living a good life without anything bad happening to them, but then you find out the dark secret of the town’s happiness. There is a child trapped in small, dirty room living in constant fear and pain which somehow is what makes it possible for the rest of townspeople to live their happy, careless lifes.” He explains to me and I raise my eyebrows in surprise.

“That’s heavy.” I frown and he nods, grabbing his coffee and taking a sip.

“It is, but sadly, not so far off from reality.” He says while looking out the window.

“I guess not your favourite book?”

“No, it’s a very good book, but it manages to drag you down a little.”

“Yeah, it does.”

A short moment of silence followed my sentence in which both of us seemed to think about what to say next. Still not daring to address the concerns I had about his wellbeing I spoke up again.

“So, you’re here pretty often? No Wi-Fi at home?” I joked and he chuckled.

“You’re not far off.” He joined my banter while leaning forward. “But no, I just find it easier to concentrate here.”

“Are you sure? With that amount of coffee you’ve been drinking lately, I kind of doubt it.” I managed to change the topic and he sighed.

“What are you, a psychic?” He sighed, nipping at his coffee again. “Just a little more work than usual, nothing special.”

I nodded and started to get up.

“You always seemed to unwind here...and I kind of want this to be your relax zone, so hit me up if you need anything.” I smiled, not sure what I was saying myself. Then I turned around and made my way back to the counter where I sat down the tray I had used to bring him his coffee. After that I rushed back to the staff room to spend the rest of my break hiding from customers, especially one.

After that encounter with our regular I thought about quitting my job and never returning to the shop, but before I could seriously consider doing that, he stopped showing up.

Maybe I really went too far by telling him I want this place to be his relax zone. I mean who says stuff like that?

I groaned and felt like hitting my head against a wall. No, I was not working today, but I was in a book shop, definitely a place where bumping your head against a wall would be inappropriate as well.

When our regular stopped visiting our café I had bought myself a copy of “The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas” and he was right, it was an amazing short story. So now I was standing in front of a bunch of Murakami books and couldn’t decide which one I should buy. I only knew that he read something by Murakami once and since he seemed to have great taste in books, I figured I should give the author a shot as well.

“Hey!” I suddenly hear from my right and turn to see our missing customer standing in front me.

“Oh, hey!” I greet him and close the book I was skimming through. “Long time no see.”

Wait, he’s talking to me? So he wasn’t avoiding the shop because of what I said?

“Yeah, life’s been busy, so I had no time to stop by at the shop.” He explains with a guilty smile and I nod.

“That’s good!” I babbled before I could stop myself. “Uhm, you know that nothing bad happened.” I clarified and he chuckled.

“You were worried?” He questioned me in a more serious tone, the smile fading from his face and a frown appearing.

“Kind of. You didn’t look too well the last few times you were at the shop and since you used to come so often it kind of feels like we know each other, you know?” I told him with a more serious look on my face now, too.

“My name is Y/N by the way.” I added quickly when it dawned on me that we never formally introduced ourselves and extended my hand.

“Right, my name is Namjoon.” He replied and shook my hand. Maybe we shook them a little too long and when we realized we both let go awkwardly.

“So uhm…” Namjoon started and looked around the shop. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for a book.” I shrugged and held the one I was holding up. “I thought about getting one from Murakami, but I’m not sure which one.”

Namjoon only nodded when he heard that and took a look at the various books placed in front of us.

“Have you read some of his books already?” He asked and I shook my head.

“Then it’s easy.” He continued and extended his right arm to grab a book from the top shelf. The title read “Almost Transparent Blue”.

“This one is amazing. I read it a while back, but it’s one of my favourites. I’d recommend it to everyone I know.” He elaborated and handed it to me.

“Sex, drugs and rock ‘n roll?” I questioned him and raised a quizzical eyebrow after reading the short description on the back.

He raised his arms in defense.

“You don’t have to buy it, it’s only a recommendation.”

“I guess I’ll give it a shot.” I shrugged and a satisfied grin appeared on his face.

“Good choice.”

We made our way over to the cash point and I paid for the book. Only now I noticed that Namjoon also held a book in his hand, but I couldn’t read the title.

After we finished paying, we exited the shop.

“What are you doing now?” He asked me and I looked at him in surprise. I totally didn’t expect him to ask me that.

“I don’t really have any plans to be honest. What about you?”

“I should get back to work, but I could spare some time for a coffee if you’d like? My treat.”

“Sure! If you really can that is. I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me.”

“No that’s fine. My job is pretty much like a freelancer at the moment, so don’t worry about it. It’s quite the opposite.” Hearing that made me feel more at ease about it, so we walked over to the nearest coffee shop we could find.

“Let me guess, you’re taking an iced Americano?” Of course I was right, he always orders one in our shop. “Then I’ll take one, too.”

We wait for our drinks and sit down at a cozy little table in the upper floor of the shop. We spent quite some time talking about whatever comes to our minds. Our favourite books, movies, music (a topic he seemed especially passionate about), hobbies and family.

Surprisingly there wasn’t even one moment of awkward silence. When the sun started setting we exited the shop and came to a stop outside the door.

“Wow, it’s getting dark already!” I exclaimed at the rosy view in front of us.

“Shit, you’re right! I’ll better get back to work now.” Namjoon said while scratching his head.

“Oh, sure, sorry I took up so much of your time.”

“No need to apologize for that. It was nice to get my thoughts off from work for a while.”

We exchanged phone numbers before we parted ways and I took the subway to get home.

The following weeks Namjoon was still busy and didn’t visit the shop very often, but after our encounter at the book shop we texted nearly every day. Christie was already teasing me about it constantly, but I brushed her off.

Until Namjoon invited me to a party.

“Come on Christie! I can’t go there on my own! And he said I could bring some friends!” I whined over the phone while Christe groaned.

“But I don’t even know anyone Y/N!”

“I don’t know anyone either! That’s why I need you!” I begged. “Also you can get to know new people much faster than I can, so forget complaining about that.”

“Fineee.” She finally agreed and I cheered, feeling relieved. “But I swear if you run off with Namjoon and I haven’t found an interesting person to chat with, I’ll be mad.”

“I doubt he’d even want to run off with me, but okay, I’ll ask for your permission first.” I chuckled and she laughed as well.

The days at work before the party we chatted about what we should wear, if there would be any cute guys, good food and drinks. And then the day of the party finally came. Christie had come over to my place so we could get ready together. I ended up wearing a classic little black dress, since Namjoon didn’t really tell me why they were having the party, so this was the safest option.

Christie went with a black mini skirt and a crop top. Then we searched for the public transport that would take us there and got going.

When we arrived at our destination, we were not standing in front of a normal building complex with apartments, but some company. Was this party related to his work? But he always somehow avoided talking about his work…

We rung the bell he told me to ring and waited anxiously while exchanging unnerved looks. This was different from what we expected. The door was opened and we went to the elevator and up to the 4th floor. Up there the music could be heard even before the elevator doors opened and I sighed in relief. Now that sounds like a party.

Still a little hesitant, we followed the music and ended up in a huge room filled with people. There were mostly young people, but also some older ones. Definitely work related.

I looked around the room in search for Namjoon, but couldn’t see him anywhere, so we went over to the bar. A drink would at least make it seem like we belonged here.

“I swear to god, I’ve heard BigHit somewhere before…” Christie mumbled and I frowned. When you own no television and don’t really catch up on mainstream media it was no surprise I didn’t know the name.

“Maybe something related to books? Since Namjoon reads a lot.” I shrugged and she shook her head.

“I doubt that.”

We stayed at the bar, continued to chat and watch more and more people arrive until someone tested a microphone. Just now we noticed the little stage like space at one end of the room.

“What is this party?” Christie whispered into my ear and all I could do was shrug again, after all I had no clue.

“Y/N! There you are!” I heard Namjoon’s familiar voice and seconds later he appeared next to me. In that exact moment the older man on the little stage cleared his throat.

“I really need to tell you something. Do you have a minute?” He asked in a hurry and I frowned.

“I promised not to leave my friend Christie alone, since she knows no one, sorry. But you can tell me here?” I suggested and he sighed.

“Not ideal, but I guess it will do.” He mumbled while the guy on stage started talking.

“Good evening everyone! We’re honored that all of you appeared here tonight to celebrate the success of the promotions of ‘You Never Walk Alone’!”

Promotions? You Never Walk Alone? Never heard of it.

“So you see…I never really told you what I work as right? And I guess you already figured out that this party is somehow work related. And the truth is I was so busy the last weeks, because we were promoting ‘You never Walk Alone’ our new album.”

Immediately I turned to him and stared at him with wide eyes and an open mouth, blurring out the man talking in the background.

“You’re a musician?!” I gasped and he nodded, unsure if my reaction was a positive or negative one.

“Yeah…” He admitted and frowned.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s just…I was surprised that you didn’t know at all and I didn’t want to ruin it and act like a jerk who thinks he’s cool because he is successful in the business.”

“Namjoon why would I think you’re a jerk?” I face palmed and he chuckled.

“Who knows?” He shrugged and I laughed it off.

Then music started playing in the background and I turned towards the stage again, where you could see some kind of music video.

“Is this one of your band mates?” I asked when a guy with a cute beanie and a blue cardigan appeared on the screen.

“Yep, that’s Taehyung. I’ll introduce you to them if you want, but I have to go now. See you later?” He questioned me with hopeful eyes and I nodded, then he disappeared into the crowd of people.

I continued to watch the music video and was surprised that Namjoon showed up as the very first person to rap. I was surprised by the sound of his voice and his looks. And we thought he looked stylish when he showed up in our coffee shop. Well, I would never wear a blazer over a sweater, but he looked amazing nonetheless.

The song itself was really calming and not at all what I was expecting from the kind of music Namjoon preferably listens to. Then I caught a glimpse of a word in the video. Omelas! So that’s what he’s been reading it for!

Now that I recognized the word, I tried to read into everything that was going on much more and at the end of the video I was impressed. I couldn’t believe Namjoon was part of this.

Then another video came up and the feeling was entirely different. The name was probably ‘Not Today’ they said that pretty often. But wait? Namjoon had purple hair? I didn’t even notice in the previous video! But he had brown hair now, didn’t he?

The video ended as fast as the first one and I turned to Christie in awe.

“Was that…Namjoon?” She asked in confusion and I nodded slowly.

“Yeah, he just told me he is a musician. Judging from the amount of people here they must be huge! Do we live under a rock or something?!” I complained. I really needed to buy a TV. Like tomorrow.

“You definitely do. I’m more disappointed in myself. I even heard of them, but never looked up their stuff. What the hell.” Christie joined in and we went back to the bar to get another drink.

Then the band got called up on stage and they thanked everyone in the team who worked on the album with them.

Only now I had the chance in to take in Namjoon’s appearance. He looked smoking hot!! How could he look better every single time I saw him?

“Ok, now it’s obvious he’s an idol. All of them are so hot. Y/N you need to introduce me to at least one of them.” Christie insisted and I sighed.

“I don’t even know them myself. And if they’re idols they probably have a dating ban, so don’t get your hopes up.”

She looked at me with concern in her eyes.

“I never got my hopes up okay.” I clarified and she rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, right.”

In the meanwhile the boys had left the stage and were talking to some of the people in the crowd. I didn’t really want to get in Namjoon’s way and, as Christie pointed out, my hopes up. So we just walked around the decorated room, grabbed some food and then went over to the dance floor.

After a while someone tapped me on the shoulder and I was greeted by Namjoon’s smile.

“Enjoying yourself?” He questioned me and I nodded.

“A little isolated, but we’re having fun.” I joked. “Join us?”

“Nah, I’m not really a dancer.”

“…You’re an idol…?” Christie chimed in and Namjoon shrugged.

“I am, but did you watch the videos just now? Definitely not the best dancer out there.” He continued and I sighed.

“There is no skill level needed to dance with us though.” I countered, but he shook his head.

“I’ll pass for now, but how about I introduce you to the others?” He suggested and of course we agreed, so we followed him over to where the boys were chatting among themselves right now.

“Hey guys! This Y/N and Christie, they work at the coffe shop I usually go to.”

“Oh the girl you…” One of them started, but Namjoon cut in.

“Yes the one I told you I invited to the party.” He stated with a glare and the guy laughed. If I remembered right it was the one with the blue cardigan in the first video.

“Hey! It’s so nice to meet you. Namjoon never told us he had a band.” I greeted them awkwardly and they looked at him, acting offended.

“Wow, are you ashamed of us?” “What did we do to you?” “I’m so disappointed!”

Christie and I laughed and the guys laughed as well. Then Namjoon introduced them one by one and we talked about their music, how long they’ve been together, how long they trained, all that stuff.

At some point I needed to use the restroom, so I excused myself. Before I could rejoin the group however I was caught by Namjoon.

“Hey, can we talk right now? The boys are taking care of Christie, don’t worry” He added when he noticed my concerned look. I couldn’t fathom what he’d want to talk to me about, so I agreed.

We left the room and walked down the hallways, until Namjoon opened the door to a small room.

“A studio?” I asked while looking around.

“My studio.” He explained and I gasped.

“Nice.” I stated while inspecting the room. “A lot of figurines.”

“Oh, yeah, do you think it’s too much?”

“No, it’s fine. It’s your studio anyway, right?” I encouraged him and he seemed relieved that I didn’t mind them. “So what did you want to talk about?”

“Nothing in particular. I only wanted to show you some more music. Maybe some of my solo stuff if you want? I mean ‘Spring Day’ and ‘Not Today’ are good, but it doesn’t cover everything we’ve done.”

“I’d love that!”

We sat down in front of his desk and he opened up some files. Their biggest hits and some tracks of his mixtape. Every single song was incredible.

“Ok now I feel like a potato next to you.” I sighed and leaned back into my chair.

“Don’t say that. There are many things you’re better at than I will ever be.” He tried to cheer me up, but I was having none of it.

“Making coffee isn’t the same as creating amazingly beautiful and emotional music. I’ve never seen anyone crying, because they’ve tasted a cup of coffee.” I rolled my eyes.

“It doesn’t have to be work related you know.” He sighed and I shrugged, remaining silent. “We’ll just agree on the fact that you’re great, ok?”

I agreed in defeat and then remembered something.

“Oh, right! I saw an Omelas sign in one of the music videos! Don’t tell me you read the book for that?” I inquired and he chuckled.

“You noticed? I told you it was work related. We have a consistent background story going on in most of our MVs, but it would be too much to explain it to you now.”

“I have time.” I stated and Namjoon laughed.

“As much as I’d like to spend more time alone with you, I still have to show up at the party again or rumors will start circulating.” Ouch.

“Sure…” I mumbled, trying my best to conceal the stinging pain in my chest. Not getting my hopes up had worked really well.

We left Namjoon’s studio behind and and rejoined the others at the actual party location. I noticed Christie chatting happily with Jin and ventured out to the bar by myself where I got another drink. It didn’t take long until another person showed up behind me. Hoseok.

“Hey are you alright?” He asked me with a frown and I smiled at him.

“Sure, I’m fine, why?”

“I don’t know, you seemed unhappy when you came back, so I thought I’d ask.” He shrugged and sat down next to me.

“No, it’s all good.” I insisted, but he was having none of it.

“Did Namjoon say something to you?” He hit the bull’s eye and I sighed. “Look, I don’t know what he said and I don’t want to pry, but I know he appears all smooth and good with words, but when he’s nervous he’s not. I bet whatever he said he only wanted to protect you.”

“Protect me from what?” I furrowed my brows and he grinned.

“Our Armys can get a little wild.” He said and slid off his seat. “Cheer up, ok?”

And with that he disappeared again.

I stayed at the bar for quite a while and tried to sort out my thoughts. Just when I thought I finally managed to do so, Christie and Namjoon appeared.

“There you are! We were searching for you everywhere!” Christe exclaimed and hugged me, clearly a little tipsy.

“Oh, sorry. I only got another drink.” I told them and raised my glass.

“So, the boys and I were planning on taking this party home with some close friends. Do you want to come?” Namjoon suggested and I thought about it for a while.

“Do you want to Christe?” I asked and she nodded eagerly.

“Sure, why not.” I shrugged and not long after we found ourselves in a van driving to their dorm.

Of course not everyone had fit into one van, so we were divided into groups. There was Taehyung, Yoongi, Hoseok, Namjoon, Christie, me and two others I didn’t know the names of in the van. Music was playing and everybody was having a good time.

A short time later we parked in an underground parking lot and all of us squeezed into the elevator. The boy’s dorm was tidy and even a little bit decorated. They definitely prepared for this. Taehyung proposed a little house tour for us and we found ourselves wandering through their various rooms.

“Wouldn’t have expected you guys to be so tidy.” Christie pointed out and Taehyung chuckled.

“Hobi is very diligent about us tidying, so we have no choice.”

We walked through a few more rooms until Taehyung opened the door to his own room.

“This is Namjoon’s and my room.” He announced and I looked at the pile of stuffed toys.

“Don’t tell me these are Namjoon’s.” I laughed and Taehyung grinned.

“Ok, I won’t.” He joked and told us that they were rarely home anyway.

After that we walked back into the now packed living room. Christie and I stayed for a few more hours, but decided it was time to leave before it got too late.

“Let me walk you home?” Namjoon asked when they found out that Christie didn’t live too far from their dorm and I had to walk a little longer on my own.

“You don’t have to. I can just take a taxi. No need to leave your own party for that.” I smiled and he shook his head.

“It’s not that I have to, I want to.” He insisted and I sighed, giving in.

We walked up to where Christie lived together and then it was only me and Namjoon.

“So…” I started.

“So?”

“Not afraid of being seen outside with me?” I teased and he looked at me with shock in his eyes. “You know rumors and stuff.” I added hastily and he frowned.

“Yeah Hobi told me you weren’t happy that I said that.”

“He told you?!” I asked. Wow, I’ll never tell Hoseok about my feelings ever again.

“I asked where he’s been and he said he checked on you and I asked why, that’s all. He probably knew I was worried.”

“About what?” I questioned him and he shrugged.

“About you.”

“Why?”

“Look I’m not dumb, I notice when you’re acting strange as well. Of course I get worried.” He clarified and I looked to the ground. Sometimes it really sucked that I couldn’t hide my feelings very well. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings when I said that. I just know that dating as an idol isn’t the best thing to do. And you’d suffer because of it more than I would.”

“Wait, what?!”

Namjoon stopped and I turned around to look at him in the faint street light.

“I like you. From the very first moment I saw you in the coffee shop I wanted to talk to you, but I didn’t know what to say, so I stayed quiet. I planned on asking you out long ago and when you approached me and we met in the book store…I just knew it was now or never. But you saw that I have close to no time to spend with you, so I thought it would be better not to say anything.”

I stood there in disbelief. My eyes wide, mind blank and a pounding heart.

“Probably shouldn’t have said that…” Namjoon said while scratching the back of his head and started to walk again, but I grabbed his hand. He stopped and turned back towards me, but I still didn’t know what to say.

“So…you’re saying you want to…date me?” I asked quietly and slowly raised my eyes to meet his soft gaze. He nodded quietly.

“I’d like that very much.”

Your mom offered to help you with your stuff but you assured her that you'd be fine. The key came in this morning, so you were really excited to be going to the house. Your house. You still smiled at the thought. The reason why you declined your mom's offer was because you wanted to check out the place again now it really was yours. You wanted to be sure that everything would get the right place before actually moving your furniture. As soon as you opened the door you couldn't stop a smile from spreading across your face. This was it, your very own house. Just for you and you alone. Or so you thought. When you walked into the living room however, you saw unfamiliar furniture. That was strange. It wasn't the furniture that was there when you checked out the place. 

Right that moment a guy walked in, stopping in his track when he saw you standing there. You two stared at each other in shock before he was the first one to speak up. "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

"I'm Y/N and this is my house. What are you doing here?" You asked in return, completely confused as to why this handsome guy was standing in your living room.

"Well Y/N I'm sorry to inform you that this is my house. See?"

He showed you the keys as well as the contract that he signed. You took the contract from him as you read along the lines, taking out your own contract in the meantime and comparing the two. The guy, who's name you didn't know, did the same as he started to realize what was going on.

"I think your real estate agent cheated you."

Panic started to rush through your body as you started to hyperventilate. Namjoon noticed as he gently placed a hand on your shoulder. "

Hey, calm down it's gonna be alright.Let's sit down, okay?"  

You took a deep breath before nodding at his words, following him to the couch where you guys sat down. He wrapped his arm around you in attempt to calm you down a little. Slowly but surely you started to realize that this wasn't your house and that you wouldn't be living here. It was his house and he would be living here from now on, not you.

"I feel so stupid." "Don't, this could've happened to anyone."  

"I just don't know what I'm gonna do. I already paid for this house and I'm definitely not gonna get that money back."

"You can stay here until you've found something else."

Your eyes grew wide at his offer. He couldn't possibly mean that, right? "Y-You don't have to do that."

"Please, it's the least I can do after this shitty estate agent did this to you. I'm Namjoon by the way."

"Thank you so much for letting me stay here-" "-But"

You groaned in frustration, making him laugh. "I knew there was a twist."

Namjoon chuckled before going to the kitchen to make you two some coffee. After all both of you could use it. "I want you to do the chores and cook for us. You can do that ‘till you've earned enough money to move out. I would have cooked myself but I don't wanna burn down the kitchen. So, do we have a deal?"

He placed the cup of coffee in front of you as he turned back to you, looking at you as he waited for your answer. This was absolutely insane. You don't even know the guy! Then again staying here is better than staying at your mom's. She'd make you do chores too. At least Namjoon's handsome, so that would make it slightly better. You took a sip of your coffee before turning back to him and giving him a nod.

"Alright. I'll do it."

"Great!"

When Namjoon said that he didn’t cook because he didn’'t want to set the kitchen on fire, you thought he was joking. You didn't expect him to be able to actually set the kitchen on fire. He offered to help you cook one day. You had just gone to the bathroom for 2 minutes and when you came back, there was a flame in the pan. Literally. That's how you found out that he actually meant what he said that first time you met. You also found out that he's insanely clumsy. At least 2 things would break every week. You got used to it after a while. After all the things he broke weren't that important. Just mainly mugs, glasses and sunglasses. You've been living with Namjoon for 4 months now and you've grown pretty close. He told you that you had to do all the chores, but he pretty much always ended up helping you. The only time he didn’t help you was when he was at work, but that made sense.  

Over time you slowly started to develop feelings for the tall guy. He was just incredibly sweet and respectful towards you that it happened naturally. In the meantime you had saved up enough money to be able to rent a nice apartment. However, you actually didn't want to leave but you're sure that he didn’t return your feelings, so maybe moving out would be the best way to go. Whenever Namjoon was at work you took care of his adorable dog, Rapmon. Rapmon had gotten really close to you and started to like you almost more than Namjoon. You were sad that you were gonna move out but it would be better than having to live with him while being in love with him. So you decided you were gonna tell him today, which was easier said than done. You took a deep sigh before making your way into the living room and sitting down on the couch, next to him.

"Joon, I need to talk to you."

He nodded before taking the remote and turning the TV off, turning his complete attention towards you.

"Sure. What do you need to tell me?"

"I'm gonna move out."

He stared at you in disbelief as Rapmon barked as well, also seeming to disagree with you leaving. "Wow, this is so sudden." He confessed, running his hand through his hair as he tried to take in what you just said. Over the past months Namjoon had developed feelings for you. He knew that you'd try to save money to be able to get your own place but he didn't want you to leave. He secretly hoped that you had forgotten about the whole deal, but turns out you didn't. Now there were two things he could do. He could just stick to the deal, let you move out and risk never seeing you again. Or, he could be brave and confess. That way you might stay instead of move out. After all, what did he have to lose? You were gonna move out if he didn’t do anything, and if you didn't feel the same way you were probably gonna move out anyway. So he took a deep breath before looking you in the eyes as he said,

"Y/N. I don't want you to move out. I want you to stay here."

You crooked an eyebrow at his words as you opened your mouth to say something, only to be interrupted by him again.

"Please just hear me out, okay?"

You nodded as you scratched Rapmon's ears, who was lying on your lap. This was weird. Why did he change his mind about the whole deal?

"I don't want you to move out because I've fallen in love with you. I know it might come as a surprise but I just really enjoy being around you and every time I get back here it feels like coming home. I've never had that with anyone before I met you. I realize that you probably don't feel the same way but I had to tell you. I won't blame you still want to move out. I'll accept that."

You looked at him with wide eyes, completely shocked about the fact that he felt the same way. HE FELT THE SAME WAY! A bright smile spread across your face as you moved Rapmon so you were able to embrace him tightly, making both of you laugh in relief.

"Does this mean you feel the same?"

"Yes of course you idiot!"

"So you're not moving out?"

“S-sir! W-why am I h-here?” You stutter, arms coming up to cover your chest. 

He raises his eyebrow at the action. “Do you really not remember?”

“I-I remember running from them, but not–” you pause and he watches your expression change into one of fear, and he can practically read your thoughts.

He snorts and walks over to his desk where he calmly sits at the chair, hands clasped in front of him. He stares you down through his lenses. “I found you, and you were getting mugged. I saved your life. I think I deserve more of a ‘thank you,’ than be labeled as a pervert.” 

You gawk, trying to rack your brain of the thought. You couldn’t rememeber the part where he appeared. Did he really save you?

You glance around the room and see that your jacket is neatly laid out on the couch, your stuff still intact and your wallet and phone placed on the nightstand alongside a bottle of water. Namjoon had really saved your life. 

You trail your eyes back to him, watching him warily. When you don’t respond, he says lowly. “You probably can’t remember because you fainted, straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention, you didn’t have to go to such extremes.” 

You frown at him. “Are you implying that I got myself targeted to be mugged by two men all because I wanted your attention sir? I hope that I never acted unprofessional enough in front of you to make you believe that it’s a possibility in my doing.” You stare at him as the tips of his mouth curl the slightest bit upwards, breaking the usual cold and detached facade that he always wore. The action practically makes your heart rate go into overdrive. He was quite cocky, your boss, after years of being labeled as one of the most coveted and popular young bachelors and entrepreneurs of South Korea. But he was also the man who held your heart.

“No. It’s because I can practically hear your heart racing from here.” 

You pout as you cover your chest, the blush that colors your cheeks distracting you enough to bubble up protests in your throat and prevent you from realizing the hidden meaning behind his words. 

Because he can hear your heartbeat. He can hear the blood that rushes to your face and to the apex of your thighs, and the steady heartbeat begin to pick up pace, thundering loudly in the room to him. He can see each eyelash that flutters as your hands come up to hide your cheeks from him and he can smell how soft and sweet your hair smells from his distance from you, everytime you move your head. 

But he chooses not to dwell on it further. It was a good thing you were oblivious, a sweet, stupid, ignorant little thing. You never noticed the way Namjoon ever hardly ate, or the way he held his breath when you walked by with your irresistible natural perfume that made his loins tighten and his fangs elongate. You never noticed the way his office was always on the dimmer side, assumed that it was for his concentration. You never minded that he requested that you don’t disrupt his “meetings” with other women unless strictly necessary, never noticing that they were his meals. You considered his aloof and quiet, dark personality to be a way to keep up his professional side of things, and assumed it meant that he could care less of your own well being. 

But he desires you so much. 

He’d never pegged himself to fall for one of his secretaries. Instead, he was the one who’d fired woman after woman who’d gotten too invested and curious and had poked too much into his business for personal desire. But for you, it was different. Your eyes hold curiosity, not because of lust of either the sexual or power-driven kind, but solely because of your interest in him. 

You don’t do anything particular to attract him, and neither do you make obvious your affections. You don’t dress provocatively, don’t use a sickly tone when speaking to him, and never pry into his business. You don’t casually show up at the restaurant he frequents and flaunt your wealth in an attempt to appeal to him, and you stay to yourself, calmly doing your work and carrying out your responsibilities without ever breaking a sweat or batting an eyelash. 

But he knows. He knows of your interest in the littlest things he could never reveal without revealing himself first. The way your heart flutters everytime he walks in precisely at 8am into the office. The way he can hear you always clear your throat and smooth down your blouse outside his thick door before knocking quietly. Or in the way your eyes linger on him a little too longer than deemed necessary during meetings, when the room is dark and you think he can’t see you. Perhaps also when you are too engrossed in your work you unbutton the next button in your blouse, and he can catch a glimpse of the elegant slope of your neck into your collarbones from across the room.

It’s also moments like these, when he finally gets to see who you are outside of the workplace and catches actual human glimpses of how obvious your affections are for him. Your hair mussed up and your face bare of makeup, clothed in a simple t-shirt and sweats, what you most likely wore to bed before you’d decided to come out to the nearest convenience store to pick up something.

What an idiot, he muses, as he silently watches you slowly stand up and excuse yourself to the restroom, and he can hear your cursing yourself as you pad over and berate yourself for being so stupid. When you emerge, he’d prepared some breakfast for you, and he watches your eyes light up in surprise and conviction, and he smiles to himself because although you were subtle for a human, you were still quite human in the way you reacted to him. 

You thanked him quietly when he offered you a ride to your house so you could get ready and he said he’d give you some time off if needed, since you were late to your shift anyway. You deny it as you get into his car, and he silently starts the engine, glancing sideways to make sure your seatbelt is on. He’d protect you if it’s the last thing he does though, so it doesn’t really matter whether the flimsy fiber belt is pulled across your lap and chest, but he reminds himself to think of human things. 

He can’t bring himself to make small talk, because talking would require him to breathe, and if he breathes, it would require him to deal with the scent of you filling the tiny space of the car that no one had sat in besides himself, and would require him to restrain himself and hold himself to human decency for the next ten minutes. 

So he just drives silently and you just stare out the window, watching the buildings whizz past as he takes you from the lavish building he resides in, into the less sparkly, suburb apartments of your own. You clench your jaw, watching as his car speeds by graffiti and buildings that look like they were built a century ago, embarrassed that your boss and your crush had to witness this, today of all days. 

But he doesn’t say anything and neither do you. 

When he finally pulls up to your driveway, he stops you when you make the move to get out as quickly as possible. Instead, he gets out first, long legs striding over to your side and propping open the door and getting your belongings from the back seat and handing them to you. Stunned, you don’t respond and take the bags dumbly and thank him without even meeting his eyes. But before you can scurry away, his low voice cuts in through the crisp morning air. 

“I’m,” he pauses, turning the words over in his mouth, “relieved to know that you are alright, Y/N.” 

You turn stupidly, staring at him in your bare face and bed head, at your boss who is impeccably dressed in an Armani suit and his signature black frames, tall and manly next to his even more impressing car. But in contrast to his intimidating exterior, you can see the hesitation in his eyes, as he looks everywhere but you, seeming to regret the fact that he’d spoken and broken the silence in the first place. 

You find your voice, nodding. “T-thank you, Mr. Kim. I-I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t saved me.” 

He shuts the passenger door quietly, the hand coming to rest in his pants pocket. “Namjoon, please. Call me Namjoon.” 

You don’t know what to say so you dumbly whisper, “O-oh.” 

He watches you as you clamber into your apartment, giving him one last glance before you disappear into the rickety building. He gets in his car and drives off in the direction of the office headquarters, finally being able to breath in his car. But even then, the scent of your shampoo and the hidden tones of your skin linger in the leather seats and pierce through his nose straight to his groin. He can feel his mouth water and his fangs come out as he things of how soft you looked when he’d stupidly, dumbly suggested you call him by his first name. What lunatic burst of idiocy those words came from he does not know. And he chooses to ignore it. 

Maybe it was because he hadn’t fed properly in weeks. Or had sex either. Yes, he determines, it’s because he was sex-and-blood-starved. He was a vampire, one who could control himself in front of a measly human girl. 

It wasn’t anything else. 

He realizes how wrong he is when you appear into the office exactly thirty minutes later, hair still the slightest bit damp from your shower and smelling like sin in fresh clothing and the pristine image of a perfect secretary. 

You click over in your heels, do the same routine of clearing your throat and smoothing down your blouse before knocking quietly on his door and opening when he responds in a low, “enter.” 

Immediately the room is filled with your scent, and he notices today you skipped your perfume, most likely in your haste to get to work as soon as you could. As you walk over, he doesn’t have to look up as his nose curls the slightest bit at a more bitter, darker tone in the smells that fill his room. 

You place the coffee cup perfectly in the corner of his desk. Black. 

He pauses and looks up to see you standing there with a demure smile on your face, hands clasped in front of you. When he meets your gaze, you blush and gesture to the cup. 

“Thank you, Namjoon.” 

When he doesn’t respond, you excuse yourself, slowly and quietly exiting the room in your tiny little heels and your grey skirt, closing the door so gingerly the lock barely registers a click. His eyes trail to the perfect little cup. 

He can see from his seat that you had tasted the cup yourself, most likely with a soft sip at the edge of the cup. It’s practically invisible, the soft glow of your lip balm on the porcelain of the cup. But he can see it. 

He curses when his dick fills out and his pupils dilate. 

Fuck you Kim Namjoon, he thinks, groaning to himself, a vampire who gets horny at the sight of a chapstick stain on a cup of damn coffee. How fucking perfect.