#rm ff

“Hey baby,” Namjoon smiled as he kissed his girlfriend on the top of her head before he took a seat next to her. 

“Joonie, how did you sleep last night?” She had always been concerned for him, even when he insisted he was fine, she would know better.  

Well, she hadn’t always been like this. It was actually a fairly new development. One that had started after his attempted suicide a few months ago.  

Namjoon had always had depression, he was good at masking it, so no one knew when it got that bad until he overdosed on his antidepressants. His mom found him and called 911 just in time.  

After he got out of the hospital a few days later, narrowly avoiding having to spend the next several weeks in an inpatient facility, his girlfriend had gotten a lot more attentive; which was something Namjoon hadn’t minded at all.  

He actually grew to love the extra affection; knowing that someone really cared about him, someone really wanted him here. He started checking in on her more often too, not wanting her to feel like it was only her that was concerned for him. She had her fair share of hardships as well, and he thought it would be a good thing if they kept each other in check.  

He grew to depend on the extra attention she gave him; so when she started to withdraw herself from him, his anxieties and depression began to spike again.  

He’d send text after text to her, asking her different questions about her day, telling her about new songs an books he’d found, sending her memes; anything to try to get her attention. She’d always answer eventually, a few hours later, and with her usual sweet and affectionate demeanor.  

He’d immediately calm back down, smiling down at his phone as she showered him with praise, and he did the same to her.  

But the hours she’d ignored him grew longer, and the excuses became repetitive.  

“I fell asleep.”  

“My phone fell behind my bed.”  

“I was out to eat with my parents.”  

“I turned off my ringer.”  

He started to expect them, used to receiving nothing but silence from the messages he’d send her, and getting very similar mundane excuses when he’d ask her to go out with him. Even when he’d check up on her to make sure she was doing okay, her answers grew less and less enthusiastic, and frankly, less honest.  

He thought it was her depression acting up on her. He felt bad, knowing how bad it can be when you feel alone and withdraw from everyone around you. He didn’t want her to feel as alone as he once had.  

Graduation was only days away and the stress of finals was heavy on everyone's minds; and even the stress of having to go off to college or get a job was starting to set in. He decided to surprise her, get her favorite flowers and takeout from her favorite restaurant, along with a goodie bag filled with all her favorite snacks and such. He smiled as he tucked a love note he’d written into the bouquet of flowers, putting it down on the passengers seat along with everything else as he started his car.  

Her parent’s had been strict, she was never allowed to have Namjoon over, and he knew knocking on the door and asking to come up wasn’t going to get him very far; but he’d already grown accustomed to sneaking into her window at the back of the house.  

He parked a block away and grabbed everything from his car and walked over to her house and around to the backyard. The sun had already set, and with the lights on in her bedroom, he didn’t need to get too close to the window before he saw that there was no need for him to walk any further.  

Naked and bouncing on the dick of someone Namjoon had considered to be a good friend was the girl he’d thought was the love of his life. He dropped everything in his full arms onto the perfectly mowed lawn and turned around, all emotions gone from his face.  

He never spoke to her again, and she followed suit. He assumed it was because she saw the things outside of her window when she helped him sneak back out the way Namjoon had always done.  

From then on, he was done. He’d never need anyone again, and he sure as shit wasn’t going to have anyone need him.  

- 

“It might be beneficial for you if you actually started paying attention in class,” Jimin let out a loud frustrated groan as he slouched back into his seat, body limp as he dramatically pouted.  

“I fucking hate midterms, why don’t they just trust that we know the information and move on?” You gave Jimin a knowing smirk, arms crossed over your chest.  

“They’re obviously right not to trust you considering you know absolutely none of the information you’re supposed to know. I mean, come on. All you had to do was SparkNotes Jane Eyre, you didn’t even have to read it; and yet here we are, a week out from the big test, and you have no idea what’s going on,” Jimin groaned again dramatically, as you pulled up SparkNotes on his laptop and slid it over to him. “I have to get back to work. Read, child. Read,”  

Jimin waved you off and sat back up, leaning his weight onto the table in front of him that was filled with books and notes that you had taken throughout the semester. You hadn’t noticed Namjoon walk in a few minutes later as you busied yourself putting books away. He stood by the door looked in awe at the table completely covered in notes and empty coffee cups surrounding Jimin and laughed softly to himself.  

He scanned the library in the hopes of finding you; and sure enough, there you were, in the far corner of the room, carefully putting an old book back in its home. He briskly walked up to you and leaned on the side of the shelf.  

“I’m gonna take a guess and say that he still hasn’t read Jane Eyre?” You looked up and smiled, seeing it was only Namjoon who decided to interrupt your peaceful afternoon. You shrugged, following his gaze to see Jimin staring at a computer screen, his eyes narrowed and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.  

“Would you really expect him to have read it at this point? Jimin doesn’t read,” you shrugged, turning back away from him and back to the steadily dwindling cart of books.  

“Which is why I find it incredible that the two of you actually like each other.” You snorted as you lightly shook your head.  

“We had a lot more in common when we were 10, and then just decided it was easier to put up with the other’s differences than to have to meet and get to know new people from scratch. Besides, we already learned how to do the unnecessarily complicated Twenty One Pilots handshake,” Namjoon huffed out a small breath of air as he looked fondly between the two of you, eyes curved into small crescents as his dimpled smile shone brightly on his otherwise tired-looking face.  

You looked back up at him, allowing yourself to get momentarily distracted from the seemingly endless pile of work that you had let pile up to get lost in the soft warm features of Kim Namjoon; bundled up in a sweater and beanie, nose tinged pink from the cold outside. As you looked up at his eyes, you realised he had been watching you stare at him. His warm smile turned into an annoying smirk almost as quickly as you looked away, closing your eyes and allowing yourself the time to curse to yourself before you returned back to your job as if nothing had happened.  

“Make yourself useful; go help Jimin instead of just standing there ogling me,” He scoffed as he pushed himself away from the wall he was leaning against.  

“Mmhmm, right, I’ll stop ogling you,” He backed away from you as you avoided eye contact, knowing the heat in your face would be anything but forgiving.  

- 

“Do I have to come back tomorrow?” Jimin whined as he slid his laptop into his bag.  

“Yes, after class, dumbass, you need to study some more if you’ll have any hope of passing.”  

“But I did so much work today,” he groaned as Namjoon smiled, sitting back in his seat enjoying the show.  

“Yup. And you’ll do even more tomorrow. Goodnight Jiminie,” You ruffled Jimin’s hair as you picked up the empty coffee cup from his desk before you walked it over to the trash. Jimin mumbled a goodnight before he walked out of the library as the sky darkened around him. 

Namjoon stood from his seat and grabbed his bag, slinging it over his shoulder before he walked up to you. You were getting ready to close the library, collecting everything you needed and doing some final busy-work before you left.  

“We still on for tonight?” Namjoon asked as he slid his hands into the pockets of his jacket, eyebrows raised in anticipation for your response.  

“Yeah, I need to ask a favor of you though?” The way you spoke was unsure of yourself, almost as if afraid of his response. He furrowed his eyebrows and shifted all of his weight to one side.  

“I mean, yeah, what’s up?”  

“I really need your help for the creative writing assignment, if it isn’t too much to ask. My piece is missing something but I can’t really figure out what, and with all the time I’ve been helping Jimin out this past week, I kinda let my own assignments slip,” Namjoon was almost taken back by your request. You had never asked him for help before. He’d never seen you ask anyone for help before, now that he thought of it.  

“Yeah sure, I’d love to help,” He spoke somewhat absentmindedly, smiling lightly as you thanked him and shooed him out the door, wanting to be alone as you sporadically ran around trying to clean everything up before getting home. Namjoon was supposed to meet you at your place at 9, 3 hours from now, to go over some of his stuff because the two of you had been so much time going over Jimin’s things, you barely had time to help him with his assignments.  

But now you were asking him for help.  

Namjoon walked back to his place in complete silence, his jaw tightly clenched and his brow knotted together the whole time as he tried to figure out why that bothered him so much. You guys had worked together all the time, he knew your work was probably fine; better than his even - you were just overthinking it.  

He opened the door to the house and threw his bag on the ground, honestly unable to remember most of the walk home.  

Was it that he wanted to work on his own work?  

No, you usually spent a few hours together, you had time to go over everything both of you needed to. And it wasn’t even that he needed much more help with his work, he just liked having the excuse to see you.  

But now you, miss independent needed his help. You’d never even wanted anything from him but now you needed something from him.

He never needed anything from you. Did he want to spend time with you? Sure. I mean, definitely. He pretended to need help from you because he wanted to get to know you, but he never actually needed your help. He was never depending on you for anything. He really didn’t need to depend on anyone, he liked being on his own; he always had.  

But now you were depending on him to help you. You needed him. Someone who didn’t need anyone or anything suddenly needed his help.  

This isn’t right. He ran his fingers through his hair as he moved to sit down on his bed, elbows coming to rest on his knees as he held his head in his hands. She can’t depend on me, I’ll fucking ruin her. He shook his head as he loudly groaned, flopping back onto his bed in frustration.  

I’ll ruin her like she ruined me.  

Pulling Namjoon from his racing thoughts was his phone dinging. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and flicked his phone on, the bright screen illuminating his face in an otherwise dark room. It was a message from Lane, the girl he’d slept with when he’d gotten in that fight with you. She texted him a lot, always wanting to hook up. Up until this point, Namjoon had just ignored her.  

Namjoon sighed as he clicked off his phone and dropped it to his chest, rolling his eyes at her inability to get the hint.  

But then, his eyes snapped back open, narrowed in as he quickly lifted his phone again, the message shining brightly once again.  

There’s a party at my sorority tonight. I don’t plan on wearing underwear ;) 

You’re a fucking idiot, Namjoon. 

Omw 

- 

You waited up for Namjoon, getting started on revising your own assignment as you realized he was probably just running late. An hour passed, and then two and he still wasn’t there. He wasn’t answering his phone either. It wasn’t like him to just ditch you, especially not without texting first. He had always respected your time, so you began to worry.  

Jimin on the other hand, was more pissed at Namjoon than he’d ever been before. He’d completely neglected both the drink in his hand and the girl on his arm as he watched Namjoon race up the stairs at a party he was definitely not supposed to be at, with a girl that he was definitely not supposed to be with. He was too drunk and too pissed off to try to tell you, knowing it would only upset you more if he couldn’t keep a cool head while telling you something like this. So he decided he should just wait for Namjoon outside the front door.  

Hours had passed and you were exhausted. You sighed as you closed the lid to your laptop, rubbing your eyes before you stood from your chair, taking a second to regain your balance before you walked back to your bedroom.  

You plugged in your phone beside your bed, changed into your pajamas, and flopped down onto your bed. Sleep evaded you, leaving you tossing and turning for hours as you couldn’t contain your worrying thoughts.  

- 

Coffee in hand, you walked into your child development class wearing sweatpants and a hoodie at least 4 sizes to big for you, yawning as you took a seat in your usual spot. Some girls in one of the schools sororities were in this class with you, and you prayed for the kids they planned on working with once they got out of here, because their usual topic of conversation was never something wholesome.  

You leaned back into your seat and closed your eyes, waiting for class to start, eavesdropping on the girls’ enthralling evening (something you’d never admit you loved doing).  

“Does anyone remember what even happened to Lane? She disappeared right when the night began.”  

“Uh, yeah, she was up in her room most of the night getting plowed by some guy in the same frat as Jin.” 

“Which one?”  

“I don’t know his name, the tall buff one, the one without the tattoo’s-” You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me- 

“Namjoon?”  

“Yeah! That’s the one.”  

- 

You called in sick from work and went straight back to your apartment after your class had ended, not even thinking of texting Jimin to tell him you weren’t going to be there, but he knew the girls in your classes; he’d flirted with them whenever he would walk you to and from it, and he’d definitely remembered what sorority they were in.  

He wasn’t surprised to have walked in the library and for you to have not been there. He simply walked back out after scanning the building and started over to your place. For the first time in a long time, he knocked on the door instead of just barging in, not wanting to invade your privacy if that’s hat you needed right now.  

But you opened the door only seconds after he had knocked, a fake smile spreading across your face that you knew he could see through.

“Hey Jimin, I’m sorry I didn’t call-” He cut you off, pulling you into a hug by your waist. You hesitantly wrapped your arms around his neck and let your head rest as the two of you gently swayed back and forth. You both knew that the other knew, and no words needed to be exchanged to understand what was happening.  

When Jimin finally let go, he closed the door hastily and shoved you back onto the couch and turned on your comfort show before he ordered a pizza for the two of you. He pulled all of the pillows and blankets from your room and surrounded you both with cushy warmth before pulling you into his chest. You’d always found comfort in the arms of the other, and this was no different. The familiar sound of Jimin’s heartbeat put you to sleep before the pizza had even arrived, as you had been so exhausted from not sleeping the night before that Jimin’s arms were all you needed to allow yourself to calm down enough to actually relax.  

He did his best to not disturb you as you slept, knowing you needed it more than the food he ordered or the show he put on. He just hoped you wouldn’t be upset when you’d have to see him tomorrow in class.  

- 

Namjoon hated himself as he walked out of the room he’d dragged Lane up to. The room he’d so proudly entered was now the thing he’d regretted more than anything he could ever remember doing right now. Without acknowledging anyone, he walked down the stairs and out of the house. He didn’t make it two steps out of the front door before a fist collided with his jaw.  

He stumbled back into the door, taking a second to gain his composure before he saw Jimin getting ready to throw another punch. He grabbed hold of his arms, easily taking control of Jimin in his inebriated state.  

“Jimin, calm down-”  

“You made her fall in love with you, you fucking asshole,” Jimin took another swing, one Namjoon narrowly dodges as he tries to not lose it.  

“I’m not going to fight you-” His voice cracks as he tries keep himself composed.  

“Good, that’ll make this a lot easier,” He lands a punch on his ribs, then another one on his face before Jungkook and Hoseok, who were also at the party ran out of the house once they heard the commotion of a fight breaking out, and pulled Jimin away from Namjoon, who was now spitting blood. “Did she ever fucking mean anything to you?” Jimin yelled as he was being pulled away, arms still swinging.  

“What the fuck is going on?” Hoseok yelled as he held back Jimin, who quite honestly barely stand at this point, as Jungkook was checking to see if Namjoon was okay.  

“He knows what the fuck he did,” Jimin ripped himself away from Hoseok, still glaring at Namjoon as he flipped the hood of his hoodie up and started walking in the general direction of the house.  

Namjoon stood straight up now, watching Jimin walk away as he completely ignored the people who began surrounding him and the questions that came pouring out of their mouths. He instead shoved Jungkook away as tears began falling down his face without his permission. As he made it back to his car, he was fully broken down, punching the dash of his car as he tried to stop the sobs from escaping his throat.  

He always seemed to have a way of fucking everything up for himself.  

- 

You didn’t look at him as he walked into your class the next day. You stared straight ahead, eyes focused on nothing at all, but you definitely knew the second he walked in. You had had several missed calls from him last night, several unread text messages as well as he finally gained the courage to talk to you. Jimin had muted your phone, which you were grateful for.  

Namjoon stood a few steps in the door, his eyes trained on your soft face that was barely visible thanks to the hood you had drooped down in front of it. He sighed, dropping his gaze down to the coffee in his hand. He walked back up to you, your eyes unwavering as he put the coffee down in front of you. He stood there for a moment after he put the cup down and your eyes flickered to the cup before you closed your eyes, letting your head drop and your hands run over your face.  

By the time you looked back up, he was in his normal seat several rows in front of you. His head was down and his hood up, completely blocking everything out until the end of class, when he had purposefully waited until he knew you had left. He stood in the almost empty classroom and picked up his bag. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of the coffee cup he’d set in front of you; cold and untouched.  

- 

A few days had gone by, and you bring yourself to open the messages he’d sent you. You scrolled up to the top and started working your way down.  

His apologies were long and emotional, the kind that if they had been written on paper, they’d be accompanied with tear stains that distorted the words and made the lines bleed, not that the handwriting under it would have been legible anyways.  

After the apologies were small greetings and the depressing realization that you weren’t going to answer him.  

He starting using it almost as a diary, needing to get all of these words floating around his head out, even if you weren’t going to read them he needed to tell you. Mostly just those of a guilty conscience, words repeating as he apologized over and over.  

Then he would tell you how bad he felt when he saw you, or how you looked really pretty, or how bad he wanted to tell you about the good grade he’d gotten on his midterm, but then remembered he couldn’t.

Day after day, there was a coffee waiting for you on your desk; whether you were at work or at school, they were always there, and exactly how you liked them.  

Almost a month had passed, his face completely rid of the bruises Jimin had left when you walked into the classroom to see a not only a coffee at your desk, but a book there as well. Kafka on the Shore, a sticky note pressed to the front of it.  

One of my favorites, I hope you like it.  

You picked up the book and flipped through the pages, all of them filled with writing in the margins. You looked back up to see Namjoon sitting in his seat like he always did, facing forward with his laptop out and his notes page up, ready for the lecture about to begin.  

You had trouble paying attention in class, and again to the English class you had after it.  

“You okay? You seem off today,” Jimin asked, interrupting himself as the story he was telling you was hilarious, and you had very little reaction to it.  

“Yeah, I’m fine, Jiminie. I think I’m just gonna go back to my place. I kinda want to be alone tonight,” He nodded with a small smile on his face, leaving a quick kiss on your forehead before you walked away.  

You rushed home and into your apartment, sitting at your table with the book in front of you within seconds, opened to the first page of the book. His handwriting was scrawled all over each and every one of the pages. His words made you laugh as you went on the adventure with him, an adventure he had been on many times before and knew exactly how he felt about every single detail, and how to best put it into words.  

The book ended faster than you wanted it to, both his words and the words of the book completely captivating you from the second you opened it. You flipped to the back cover of the book to find it completely filled with some of the smallest handwriting you could read. You took a deep breath before you started at the beginning.  

Y/n,  

I’m not really good with apologies, so I guess I’ll just start.  

I needed you.  

I needed you but I never allowed myself to think about it enough to realize it. I let myself continue to believe that I just wanted to spend time with you, not that I needed your help, or needed you here in general, but that you were just someone I enjoyed being around. I could continue to ignore the need as long as you continued to act as if I was a part of your job. You helped me, helped Jimin, and did everything you needed to do by yourself. You didn’t need me.  

But then you did. 

You needed help for an assignment and for some insane reason that was all I could think about, and it made me sick at the thought of me doing to you what the last person I needed did to me, so instead of just helping you like I wanted to do, I did exactly what I wanted to avoid doing to you.  

Why I thought that would be the answer to all of my problem’s, I don’t know. All I know is I hate myself for what I did to you. That day I woke up the happiest I’ve been in a long time because of you. I woke up with a smile on my face because I was excited to help Jimin study at the place you work because even if I couldn’t spend time with you, I could be near you. I could watch you put books away and talk about your favorite ones with people who were checking them out and I could bother you when you were busy just so I could watch you scrunch your nose at me.  

I didn’t do this so you’d forgive me, I don’t know if I even want you to forgive me. But what I do want is for you to know that you’re the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to me. You made me a better person, made me want to be the best version of myself. You made me love life again, love people again and you reminded me why I would rather risk getting hurt again than spend my whole life running from the pain.  

You made me fall in love with you, Y/n. That scares the shit out of me but nothing is scarier than the thought of you thinking I did this to you on purpose. I’m an idiot and self-destructive and an asshole most of the time but you are the one thing on this planet I never wanted to hurt.  

I love you.  

I’m so sorry.  

X Namjoon 

The words were stained with tears, much like you had imagined his text massages would have been; but they were yours rather than his that filled the page. You put the book down on the table and leaned back into your seat, rubbing the sleeves of your hoodie over your cheeks that quickly grew damp as they too filled with your tears.  

You wiped your sadness away and stood from your chair, tucking the book under your arm after you slid your shoes on and walked out the front door to your apartment.  

It was almost midnight by the time you knocked on the door of the frat house you’d grown used to visiting over the past couple of months.  

The grumpy older one opened the door, his brows furrowing only for a second before relaxing again as he looked at you. He opened his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it.  

“Hey Yoongi, is Namjoon here?” He closed his mouth and nodded lightly, opening the door a little wider and stepping out of the way so you could walk in.  

“He’s in his room,” He spoke softly as he closed the door, a small gentle smile slipped onto his face, and you smiled back, thanking him with a nod before you walked up the stairs.  

You reached his door and knocked softly. You heard ruffling from behind the door before you watched it open in what felt like slow motion. Fresh out of the shower, Namjoon was wearing sweatpants, a t-shirt and messy wet hair pushed back off of his forehead. He stood speechless in front of you, his eyes wide as he realized you were actually there, in front of him, holding the book he’d spent weeks perfecting.  

You wordlessly stepped into his room, dropping the book to the ground as you placed your hands on either side of his face and kissed him. He stumbled back a step before gaining his composure, moving one of his hands to your waist while the other closed the door.  

His hands both wrapped around you as he kissed you back, his thick lips molding to yours slowly as he wanted to remember this feeling for the rest of his life. You slowly drank each other in, both desperate for more but scared if you move to fast, the other will disappear.  

“You’re an asshole,” You broke apart for a second before replacing your lips on his again, his hands moving up to cup your cheeks as your hands fell to his neck and chest.  

“I know,” his lips barely left yours before they were back, moving in synchrony as you wrapped your arms fully around his neck, pulling yourself closer into him. His hands went to your hips, moving the both of you slowly back to his bed as he bit your lower lip softly. You slipped your tongue into his mouth as he spun you around, gently laying you on the bed before he crawled over you, lips never leaving yours.

You let a tear fall down your temple as he let out a pained breath as he kissed you again, his thumb running over your tear softly. His movements were all so gentle and slow, as he patiently made sure everything, he was doing was earning a good response from you. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you here, like this.  

“I love you,” a soft whisper spoken against your lips as his hand moved up your hoodie, his warm fingers connecting with your hot skin, dancing across your torso as all you could focus on was how strong the magnet that seemed to be forcing you together was; and how you had no intention of stopping it.  

“I love you,” relief fell onto Namjoon’s body as his relaxed into yours, his weight dropping into you as his hips rested between your legs. You ran your fingers through his soft hair, your fingernails scratching his scalp as one of his hands ran up the length of your outer thigh, the other still on your side as he worked to lift your hoodie a little higher.  

You moved your hands down to hook under your hoodie and began pulling it up. Namjoon pulled away from you slightly, helping lift your excess clothing up over your head and discarded it for you. He brought his lips back to yours, then pulled apart again, lifting his own shirt above his head and throwing it off to where yours had been.  

His warm body pressed back to yours, the warmth from each other pooling in your stomachs and chests as you immediately wrapped yourselves around one another again. Your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, resting on his broad shoulders as he kissed you deeply. His lips began trailing soft kisses down your jaw and neck, each one so sweet and delicate yet hot and passionate against your smooth skin. He slid his hand around your back and unhooked your bra, pulling it off of you swiftly before he returned again to your lips that were already beginning to kiss the feeling of his on them.  

Everything about the way he touched you and moved against you was addicting. The soft plush lips moving wherever they saw fit, his heated fingertips leaving trails of goosebumps down your side; the sound of his breath and the rattling of his heart in his chest, hammering against yours. Even the way his musk and the clean scent of his soap permeated your nostrils was euphoria as you wrapped your legs around his waist.  

He moved his hand around to your front and moved it between your bodies, taking his time unbuttoning and unzipping your jeans. His lips traveled down your neck again as he pulled down your jeans, his mouth settling on your nipple as you helped him fully remove them before you tangled your hands in his hair. His tongue swirled around you and his teeth grazed you ever so slightly as he wrapped one arm around your back and rested the other on your other breast, pinching and pulling at your nipple gently.  

You arched your back as his teeth pulled at your sensitive skin, his eyes looking up at you as he released you, his gaze almost pleading; wanting more than he was taking but he kept his pace, mouth finding your other nipple. He teased you more with this one, his mouth moving faster and teeth doing more work than before he fought the urge to grind down into you – an urge he didn’t fight for very long.  

He soon pushed his own sweatpants down and kicked them off, moving back up to kiss your lips as his legs spread yours apart, his hands gripping your thighs and pulling them to wrap around his waist. You let out a soft whine into his mouth as he pressed his erection into your clothed cunt. Namjoon’s hands were all over you, worshiping every part of your body as he continuously ground down into you, addicted to the small sounds that escaped your throat as he did.  

“Fuck, Joon,” Your voice was soft and needy as his hand slipped under the fabric of your panties, his long fingers spreading your lips apart. They rubbed small circles into your clit as you gripped his bicep, the soft whines falling from your lips and into Namjoon’s mouth were most arousing thing he’d ever tasted.  

He pushed his middle finger down and into your aching walls, his thumb replacing it on your clit as he let out an involuntary gasp at the arousal that was now coating most of his hand. “So wet for me, hmm?” He hummed against your jaw, nipping at the sensitive skin as you bit down on your lip. His lips kept moving down, ghosting over your skin as your hands followed him, tangling in his hair and gripping his free hand; before he took it away to slide your panties off.  

He left dark hickeys on your hips, teasing you for as long as he could as his mouth went everywhere except for where you needed him. His fingers had been removed from your cunt and were now wrapped around your thigh, keeping it propped on his shoulder as his other hand pinned your other to the bed, his mouth sucking harshly on the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. “Joon...” your voice was soft and desperate as you felt him smirk against your skin. “Please...”  

“Please what, baby?” He kissed gently over where a bruise was already beginning to take form while his eyes stayed trained on your face, patiently waiting for you to beg for him.  

“Please touch me...” He smirked, moving his arm to wrap under your thigh and bring it to his shoulder to match the other before his lips wasted no time sucking harshly onto your clit. You moaned loudly at his swift movements, your back arching as you threw your head back, fingers curling around the soft fabric of the comforter underneath you. He replaced his fingers back into your pussy, pumping them in and out faster then before as his tongue worked wonders on your sensitive nub.  

You reached down to run your fingers through his hair, grip tightening on the damp strands as he curled his fingers upwards into your g-spot. “Oh my fuck, Joon-” you gasped, the hand on the bed coming up to your mouth as you tried to muffle the sounds pouring from you. Your walls clenched around his fingers as your orgasm neared almost embarrassingly fast as the lewd sounds of him mouth working against your pussy filled the room with your moans being stifled.  

“I’m gonna – fuck, Joon –” You moaned loudly as you’re your hand reach down to meet your other in his hair, gripping the strands tightly as you came against him, his tongue collecting your juices as his fingers stilled and pulled out of you.  

Your grip on his hair loosened as he crawled back up to you, your arms wrapping around him as you kissed each other messily. Tongues on the insides of the other cheeks as you no doubt soaked his boxers that were pressed tightly against you, rocking slightly as he let out a throaty moan at the friction. You pulled down at the band of his underwear, begging for his cock to be released as he sat up. He leaned off to the side, opening his bedside table drawer to grab a condom before he slid his boxers off and slipped the rubber on quickly.  

You barely had time to react to his thick size before he was back on you, lips on yours and an arm wrapped around you as his other hand guided his tip up and down your slit. His movements and kisses were much slower than before as he moved with purpose. He kissed you deeply before he lined himself up at your entrance and connected his forehead to yours, eyes flickering between yours as he slowly pushed himself inside you. You moaned out together, eyes never leaving each other's as he filled you completely. 

“I love you,” His voice was soft and gentle as his hand caressed your cheek. Your heart fluttered as the look in his eyes matched his words as they scanned your face as if you were the most precious and fragile piece of art he’d ever seen.  

“I love you,” He kissed you softly, lips just barely grazing yours as he slowly pulled out and thrust back into you. His slow deep thrusts reached new depths inside of you as his hands gripped your hips tightly. Your moans came out softly into his ear as he groaned into your neck, his hips quickening at your gentle encouragement.  

“You’re so fucking tight,” He propped himself up on his elbows to watch where the two of you connected. “Fuck,” he groaned under his breath as he pulled your thigh up, hooking it over his elbow as he used his new angle to fuck into you harder, your other leg wrapped tightly around his waist as your moans got gradually louder, neither of you caring if anyone else heard you.  

His bed creaked under you as his pace quickened, his fingers finding your clit again and toyed with it as he watched your face contort in pleasure. His eyes scanned over your body, watching your tits bounce with every thrust of his dick as you desperately clung to him with small curses being squeezed between your loud moans. “Fuck, you’re so good,” he attached his mouth to your neck, sucking and biting down on you as he pistoned himself into you.  

You could barely manage a comprehensive thought as your body was filled with pleasure, your cunt squeezing around his dick as you felt your climax yet again approaching. “Joonie,” You whined out as you dragged your fingernail down his back. 

“You gonna cum, baby? You wanna cum around my cock?” You nodded rapidly as his forehead met yours again, grunting lightly as he released your leg, wrapping it back around his waist as he took your arms and pinned them above your head with one hand, his eyes never leaving yours when he moved his hand back down to pinch your clit between his fingers. 

You moaned loudly, arching you back into him, moaning out his name over and over again as your walls repeatedly clenched and released around him. His hand found your hip, pinning it to the bed as he ruthlessly fucked into you as hard as he could, spilling into his condom with a loud moan only moments after you had cum.  

He let go of your arms and wrapped his own around you as he let his weight fall on you, your arms wrapping around him as well as you let yourself relax completely. Heavy breathing filled the room as his head laid on your chest. He eventually moved his soft lips up your neck and on your mouth, whispering sweet words and ‘I love you’s against you as his hand gently caressed your side; your hands tangled in his hair.  

He eventually sat up and pulled out, cleaning himself then you up before he pulled one of his own shirts over your head and laid down next to you, pulling you into his chest as he covered you in a blanket.  

“Did you mean it?” You questioned softly after you both had laid in a comfortable silence for a few minutes. 

“Mean what?” Namjoon adjusted slightly as he spoke, his cheek coming to rest on your forehead .  

“What you write in the book. Did you mean it?” He pressed a soft, long kiss to your forehead before his hand cupped your cheek, moving your face up to his, allowing him to kiss your lips.  

“Every word.” A comfortable silence filled the room as you stared into each others eyes, only the soft light from the moon peaking in from his windows allowing you to see him.  

“I love you,” your voice wasn’t even a whisper, you’re not sure that he even heard you until his eyes smile and he kisses your forehead, letting his cheek rest back on your forehead as his thumb continued to caress your cheek.  

“I love you too, Y/n.”  

Note: They finally love each other :'))

Yes, once upon a time, the holidays meant something to you.

“When did it all change?” you mused to no one in your empty bedroom.

You know the answer. After marrying your husband, you moved a thousand miles away from your family, and the laughter eventually died with each season that's colder than the last, though the wind is not the sole reason as to why you're unable to enjoy the holidays.

Turning to your left, you find only rumpled sheets, an indication that your husband did come home that night, though he has since disappeared to do God-knows-what. You wondered if he’ll remember his promise this time, or if you’ll spend Christmas Eve staring into the fireplace again, wine in hand, only to be dejected, though not surprised, when he’d only return home in the morning smelling of cheap booze.

Oh, but he’d always make it up to you, right?

The first time he kept you waiting into the night was for your anniversary dinner. After returning home haggard in the early hours of the morning, he had gifted you a beautiful Love Cartier bracelet, with two intertwined rings in the chain, as an apology. You had forgiven him so easily, welcoming him back into your arms as you kissed him in thanks. But, with every passing day where he stopped being your husband, and instead became married to his work, the presents, along with the simple ‘sorry’ scrawled into the cards, weren’t enough to keep the growing resentment at bay.

You tried your best to talk to him about what you’ve been feeling, but Namjoon seems just too busy to care, or maybe, he’s stopped caring at all, relying heavily on the materialistic objects to appease you.

You leave your room with a bitter cackle, making a wager against yourself as to what present you’ll receive this time.

Perhaps it’ll be a necklace or a ring with a diamond the size of your eye. Surely, your husband had a stack of presents for you in his office, ready to whip it out should he smell the first hint of trouble or displeasure from you.

There was a time when he swore that he loved you, but you’ve come to learn that the seasons were cruel to all manners of love. As the wind picked up and the cold settled in, it must have also robbed your husband of his warmth.

He wasn’t mean to you or anything, in fact, you could spy a glimpse – a sliver of humanity left in him during the parties they held for the investors. Though you were nothing more than arm-candy, it’s during these functions where your husband seemingly returned, and perhaps you’re pathetic, but the familiar warmth of his hand finding a home on the small of your back again makes your traitorous heart beat faster, and you couldn’t help but hold out hope that your beloved is still in there somewhere.

You made your coffee this morning, like all mornings that came before it, with a heavy sigh. The large, opulent house was quiet save for the shuffling of your feet, and you made your way through the hallway lined with smiling pictures of yourself from the past. Before entering the living room, you stopped at the largest of them all, a gold-framed portrait of you and your husband on your wedding day. The brilliant photographer had captured a quiet moment between the two of you, with your foreheads pressed against one another. And though both your eyes were rimmed with tears, the grins on both your faces were more than enough evidence of the happiness you felt on that day. You contemplated the painting in silence. A stray tear rolled down your cheek and then another, and another, until a continuous downpour wets your face as you searched for an answer in the vision of the past, one that was once full of serenity and love.

You touched the portrait with shaky fingers, wishing that you’re able to return to that day. Your wedding was chaotic, not only with the normal hustle and bustle of a grand party, but also because the cake had fallen when the two of you tried to cut into it. There were a lot of gasps amongst your family and friends as they watched in horror; white fluffy frosting flying everywhere, covering your dress and his shoes, but you could only laugh, filled with too much joy to worry over the dry cleaning (that ended up costing a few hundred dollars).

“Do you linger in front of this picture like I do?” you choked.

The coffee in your hands was cold by the time you made your way into the living room.

One more chance, you plead to the Gods above as you sipped the bitter liquid. The snow was falling faster now; the cold, a perfect match for your sombre mood. One more chance for him to fulfill his promises.

And if he breaks your heart again? A cynical voice responds in the back of your mind. What then?

Your tears were your answer as you gazed longingly at the now empty house you’ve built with him. With a heavy sigh, you pulled your nightgown tighter to your shivering figure, and glanced at the neat stack of documents that you left on the coffee table. Undisturbed; the papers still in their rightful places. You’re unsurprised. He hadn’t bothered to look through it. Maybe the bolded print on the first page wasn’t large enough to catch his attention.

The documents felt heavy as you gathered them into your arms. It wasn’t so much the paper, but the weight of the words that laid across the pages.

Then I suppose there’s nothing else for me to do but leave, you concluded before disappearing into your bedroom.

---

Busy.

It’s a word that could sum up the holiday season perfectly for Namjoon and his current state. He had loosened his tie and undid the first two buttons of his dress-shirt sometime in the night. Though he let his team off early to spend time with family and friends during the holiday season, he was unfortunately tied to his desk – like most days in the year.

There’s a deal that was proposed last week for the upcoming fiscal year, a chance to increase business by working with talents from the entertainment industry to sell more products, and what better way to get people to buy things than during the holiday season?

Papers rustle as he signs off document after document, until the letters begin to jump out of the page and dance in front of him. He shut his bleary eyes for a moment, counting to three before continuing on with his work.

There’s a knock on the door of Namjoon’s office that interrupts his thoughts. “Sir?” Jimin, his secretary, pops his head in. Namjoon hums absentmindedly, going back to reading through reports as though he wasn’t just interrupted. Taking a quick glance at the younger man, Namjoon finds that Jimin’s already bundled up in warmth, the scarf gifted to him by his lover wounding itself tightly around his neck. “I’m going to head out,” he informs. “Shouldn’t you leave soon too? I thought you were having dinner with the missus?”

Namjoon’s pen pauses in midair. He doesn't need to be reminded of his familial obligations, least of all, from an unmarried man. Exhaustion seeps into the lines of his face, and though he didn’t mean to snap at the good-natured secretary, he couldn’t help but feel irritated all the same. “That’s my business, Mr. Park,” he mutters coldly, just like the wind outside. His secretary bows and offers his apologies, though Namjoon raises his hand to silence the bumbling man. “Enough, leave me to my work, please. Have a great night.”

“Happy holidays,” Jimin replies quickly before closing the door.

Namjoon ought to apologize, but the stack of papers refused to let him go. He could make his amends to Jimin by giving him an extra day off or something. Presents seem to weaken the anger in everyone’s hearts. With a sigh, he glances at the clock on the other wall, noting how late it’s gotten. He had a feeling you’re going to be upset with him if he comes home. Oh well, perhaps he could stay at a hotel again to avoid your wrath. Setting his pen down, he opened his desk drawer to rummage through a series of trinkets in hopes to find a suitable gift for you.

Smiling to himself, he found a sapphire necklace amongst the stack of presents that could pass for this exact reason. All he has to do is get down on his knees and apologise, and just like that he’s in your good graces again. As he wrapped the necklace up in a light blue box and redid the white ribbon, he couldn’t help but hum. Truly, you’re so lucky to have such a thoughtful husband, and he’s so lucky to have an understanding wife.

As the wind wages war outside, Namjoon sits content in his quiet office, going through his mountain of work without much thought for his lover at home.

Just as the clock chimes for the twelfth time that night, the lights flicker once and shut off all at once.

“Huh,” he whispers under his breath as he waits for his eyes to adjust to the darkness.

It’s not uncommon for the electricity to shut off in the middle of a raging storm, but his office is eerie with the absence of light. He sits for a few moments, staring into the inky blackness before fumbling for his phone to shine the little beam of light around the office. His tiny flashlight can’t seem to penetrate the dark, but it’s better than nothing, so with a gulp, Namjoon prepares his nerves as he ventures outside.

His Oxford shoes slap against the linoleum floor loudly as he makes his way to the other end of the hallway for the fusebox. Though he’s used to being in the office alone at night, the howling wind makes for an uncomfortable companion as it follows him to his destination. While he walks, the wind whispers secrets into his ears, though Namjoon isn’t able to catch the words. He almost sighs in relief when he spies the fusebox at the end of the hallway.

Creaaak.

The hinges on the metal slate of the fusebox must have rusted. Namjoon winces as he pries it open, the sharp creaking noise unpleasant to his ears. He forgets his fears for a moment as he squints at the faint writing on each switch. He holds his breath as he tries the first one, and waits… nothing. The second and third switches also yield the same result.

“Come on… Give me something,” he grunts, flipping through each switch. Namjoon’s senses are on high alert, and despite his desperate pleas, the lights remain stubborn in their refusal to turn on. Perhaps this is a sign from the universe to head on home, yet he can't just leave, not when the company is on the line for another major sale! No, he has to stay.

Click after click; his breath begins to puff into wispy clouds as he waits, the heater having shut off long ago, causing the cold to sneak in and settle in his bones. Yet the lights are stubborn in their efforts to remain turned off.

His paranoia also increases with every failed attempt. More than a few times, he calls out into the darkness because he thinks he hears his name, only for silence to reply to his answer. He curses, begs, and mutters under his breath, but the universe refuses to let him walk away with victory.

There’s only the last row left.

The first two switches yield nothing, unsurprisingly.

Four left. Click. Nothing.

His hands begin to shake as he goes down the row, waiting a little longer before going through the buttons this time. Maybe the electricity is just taking its sweet time to travel through the old wires of the building. That's how it works, right?

Three left. Nothing, nothing, nothing.

“Come on, come on.”

He jumps when the wind picks up, slamming a door from the other end of the hallway, as though it’s protesting against Namjoon’s actions. He must've forgotten to close the windows. Yeah. That's it.

Sweat collects along his forehead, and he swallows thickly at the fear that clings on his shoulders. When he reaches over the second to last switch, the windows rattle loudly against the force of the storm outside, and Namjoon yelps in surprise. In his attempts to calm himself down, it happens again. More howling. More rattling. Heart picking up pace, his shaky hand manages to pull the lever, only for nothing to happen. He’s engulfed in a sea of sound; his blood roaring in his ears and the loud crashes of the wind against the windows.

One to go. The last switch.

Namjoon doesn’t wait, gripping the black plastic tight between his fingers. “Please!” he yells with his eyes squeezed shut, flipping the switch with a great force that he’s surprised the plastic didn’t break.

Nothing.

His heart begins its slow descent to the floor.

But, after a few more seconds, he hears the familiar hum of electricity before the room floods with light. Namjoon’s shoulders sag with relief as he crouches on the floor to gather himself. The wind itself seems to quiet down, as though sulking at his success.

Namjoon doesn't care about all that though. His pride had been hurt. Thank goodness he’s alone. He couldn’t imagine having to explain his panic to his coworkers, because who would believe that their shrewd boss is afraid of the dark?

The anxiety left his body in a sad state of shock however, so when he tries to stand, he finds that his energy has been sapped clean, rendering his legs useless. White-hot frustration fills his eyes with tears. This wouldn’t have happened if he just left the office.

Breathe, Joon.

Namjoon's eyes widen and flit around the room hurriedly to find the source of your voice, before he stops when he realizes where he was. How ironic, even with him focusing all his thoughts on work, you still manage to wiggle your way inside.

“Oh my god, I’ve gone crazy,” he chuckles, sliding his palm over his face. Yet, he listens, and breathes. Purposeful slow breaths that fill his lungs with oxygen, and soon enough, his heart returns to its former pace.

When he tests his legs, he’s able to stand.

Exhaling a sigh of relief, Namjoon walks towards the direction of the office, only to pause when he spies his reflection on the window. There, a mirror image of him stands, looking just as exhausted as he feels. The bags under his eyes tells a story of late nights in the office; of a person that hasn’t relaxed in some time now. How could he? There’s a whole company resting on his shoulders. Perhaps once things settle down after the dawn breaks in the upcoming year, Namjoon could go on holiday. Somewhere tropical… Lombok, maybe? The thought of plunging his toes to warm sand as he soaks the sun’s rays sounds delightful, but he’s forced to rid himself of fantasies when he nears his office, as he’s unable to resist the siren’s call of work.

When he opens the door, however, he’s startled to find you standing by his desk with your back turned towards him. You’re in an off-white dress with a tiara neatly placed on your hair. The image looks familiar yet foreign at the same time, and it’s only when you turn to face him does he realize that something is wrong.

It’s no wonder that he finds the view familiar. You are wearing your wedding dress, complete with the sash that cinches your waist and the veil cascading around your face like a halo.

Yet instead of joy, your beautiful face is painted in sadness, with tears collecting in the rim of your eyes; a torrent of emotions ready to be released.

“D-Dear?” Namjoon calls out in disbelief, refusing to enter the room. “What are you doing here?”

You smile sadly in response, before crossing the threshold until you stand a foot in front of him, extending your hand towards his still figure. “Joon,” you beckon. “Come here.”

Namjoon remains rooted to the spot, warning bells ringing in his mind. There’s a strange blurriness to your form, like the universe isn’t too happy with your existence. That being said, the wrinkles he’s gotten to know doesn’t exist in this version of you… as though you’ve transformed yourself like your younger self. Could makeup do something like this? Then again, when did you have the time to come over in the middle of a blackout without letting him know?

He steals a glance at his phone, trying to find the notification that indicates that he’s missed your call, but his inbox remains empty of your trace – save for the dozens of messages from his employees wishing him well for the holidays.

There’s no way the person in front of him is his wife, no matter what his eyes are suggesting otherwise. He must be exhausted, and the fear from earlier is making him see things. Yeah. That's what's happening. Yet, mind intrigued, and mouth running faster than he could catch it, he voices his confusion. “Who… are you?”

Upon his reluctance, you close your hand into a fist and let it fall to your side, though the smile never leaves your face. “I’m your wife, of course,” you answer, but then your brows knot in confusion. “Wait… we did get married, right?”

Namjoon looks around. Was this some sort of prank?

Why are you entertaining this woman, Namjoon? He scolds himself. Get back to work.

“I am married, but not to you,” Namjoon snaps with a shake of his head. “Whoever you are, please leave before I call the cops.” He holds his cellphone like a weapon, tightening his grip on the device, as he stalks towards you.

He means to haul the stranger away, but as soon as he steps foot in his office, the world melts. Gone is his desk and subsequently, your present and the stacks of papers. Gone is his shelf, filled with photographs and awards from his lifetime. Gone is his world.

When he blinks, Namjoon is suddenly standing in the midst of a sea of people. From their outfits, there seems to be a party of some sort. Just as he deduces that his environment isn't threatening — he's surrounded by bodies, all exclaiming 'Congratulations' to his face. But in his panic, his eyes are unable to make sense of the details, causing the crowd to look nothing more than faceless mannequins. And then, just before he sinks to the floor to curl up into a tight ball of anxiety, he spots you, or at least, the version of you that was in his office mere moments ago, laughing with a few people as you sip on champagne.

Time seems to slow as Namjoon makes his way to reach you; the crowd parting seamlessly to let him through. When was the last time he’s seen you smile, let alone laugh, like that?

In that moment, whatever panic he feels doesn’t matter, because you’ve returned to be the centre of his world.

Oh.

There's a surge of emotions as Namjoon continues to study your smiling face, and finally, he remembers. This... feeling. Familiar and foreign at the same time.

Helplessly, he stares, transfixed and awestruck at your beauty. His foot melds into one with the floor. His mouth that was once formed into an 'o' closes by itself before a corner lifts, up and up, to transform into a lopsided smile. And when his heart picks up its pace once more, it’s not out of fear or terror, but a strong affection whose name once escapes him, but has now returned home.

Love.

At that moment, you turn around and spot him. Your initial surprise at seeing him just standing there dissolves into a bright smile. “Namjoon! Over here!"

Wait. Could you see him too? And… you're not… upset? Namjoon points to himself in disbelief as he looks around to see if there's any other versions of him in the vicinity.

“Yes, you,” you giggle with a shake of your head. Namjoon watches you excuse yourself from your conversation partners before coming towards him. He can smell the perfume you're wearing - a subtle hint of floral that melts beautifully with your skin. You lift your hand and touch his cheekbones, wearing a half-worried and half-amused expression. “Are you drunk already? The party’s just starting!”

Namjoon is unable to tear his eyes away from you. From up close, you’re so beautiful, your eyes catching the light to sparkle like the most brilliant of diamonds. “What’s going on?” he asks, unsure if the scene in front of him is real.

You return his question with a quirk of your brow. “Umm… we just got married like 4 hours ago?” Then, standing on your tiptoes, you cup a hand by his ear to whisper conspiratorially, “Should we cut the reception short and get the hell out of here? We can start our own ‘party’. You know… with just the two of us.”

The teasing, almost salacious, voice is one he's not used to, not anymore. But, Namjoon remembers it well, because it's the very same one you once used when you’re scheming with him, during a time when you were both his best friend and lover. The memories of cutting class during college to spend just a few moments alone together come rushing in as he continues to stare at your face - ones filled with stolen kisses behind the bleachers and sneaking around the dorm hallways to avoid the strict RAs.

If the dress you wear wasn't enough of a clue, he finally remembers this day; this exact moment. Though the memory is slightly altered, the words you utter are the exact same. Namjoon's sure of it now; in just a few moments, you'll be introduced to the world as Mr. and Mrs. Kim.

What he doesn't quite remember is your expression. Forget witnessing you laugh vivaciously in front of nameless figures, this was something else. The bright, almost bewildered look, like you couldn't believe that today was real; that soft curve of your lips of a serene smile; and the joy that you radiate just from standing next to him. You're looking at him like...

Like you're in love... With him.

Just as he contemplates this revelation, the master of ceremonies’ voice booms through the speakers. “Ladies and gentleman,” she announces enthusiastically, waving an arm towards your general direction. “It is time for the couple’s first dance. Let me re-introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Kim!”

Beside him, you cheer loudly along with the guests, laughing and high-fiving the people closest to you.

“Ready, husband?” You waggle your brows. “That’s our cue to dance!”

The crowd clears a path for the two of you, a spotlight shining on the centre of the room. You’re already walking a few steps ahead of him, before stopping when you realize that Namjoon is still stuck where he stands. Turning around, you extend a hand towards him.

“What are you waiting for? Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet,” you chuckle, waving your outstretched hand impatiently. “It’s too late now, mister. We’re married. And you and I both know that we're both too lazy to go through the divorce proceedings.”

In a daze, Namjoon reaches out and grabs your hand, the warmth instantly spreading all over his body. He ignores the fleets of chuckles amongst the crowd, having heard your words; no, he focuses solely on you.

With a knowing smirk, you tug him towards you until the two of you stand in the middle of the dance floor. A hush falls over the room, the silence of anticipation rippling among the guests as the first few notes of soft piano music begins to play. What was his wedding song again? He can hardly hear the notes, his brain too filled with committing your lovely face to memory.

He moves instinctively, circling your waist with his arm to pull you close to him. You let out a soft ‘oh’ of surprise at the touch. Your bravado seems to drop, your movements robotic as Namjoon guides you through the dance.

“Now who’s getting cold feet?” he teases low before pressing his cheek on your head. He's unable to stop the smile from crawling up his face at the quiet sound of indignation from you.

“Shut up,” you complain. Namjoon's dismayed when you shrug him off from you, but he's quickly relieved to learn that you're not angry when you stick your tongue childishly at him. “You’re lucky I love you or else I’ll divorce you right now.”

Namjoon gasps scandalously, despite having a difficult time trying to keep his smile at bay. “You wouldn’t dare!”

The two of you burst into laughter while still swaying along to the music, lost in the world of each other's arms. In the comforting silence, Namjoon prays that this dance doesn't end, and if this happens to be some sort of dream, he hopes he never wakes up.

You're holding onto each other tightly, not even an inch apart between your bodies. And when the music reaches its peak, Namjoon stops dancing to lift your chin upwards before lowering his lips to meet yours. He hears the gasps from the crowd, and he smirks into the kiss, feeling a sort of pride from being the only person who's able to do this to you.

Alas, you are in public, so Namjoon reluctantly pulls away, but not before ensuring that your breaths come out staggered as though oxygen isn't the only thing he's taken.

“Oh, you'll rue the day you break my heart, Mr. Kim, because I swear that you’ll know pain,” you pout with a poke on his ribs.

Namjoon knows you're not the biggest fan of public displays of affection, but how can he stop touching you when you're just so lovely?

“You wound me, Mrs. Kim,” he counters with a snicker gracing you with a serene smile. He cradles your cheek, staring deep into your eyes as he promises, “You know that I would never break your heart, my love.”

But as soon as he utters those words, the music stops, and the room’s occupants freeze in place, the once boisterous laughter cut short, like when you turn off the TV in the middle of a laugh track. The sudden silence is so eerie that it causes Namjoon to falter, dropping his hands to his sides as he surveys the room with terror. What’s happening this time?

“’Never’, you say?”

It’s nothing more than a whisper, but in the deafening silence of the room, your words carry themselves to his ears, and Namjoon has to suppress a chill that runs down his spine. He doesn’t dare to turn around and face you, afraid of what he might find.

Why does your voice sound so… cold?

“You swore,” clack. “That you’d ‘never’,” clack. “Break my heart,” clack.

Namjoon’s shivering now, and if the clicks of your high-heels, coupled with your clipped words, are indications of a warning, he should probably start running for the hills by now. He takes a small step forward, and another, but his attempts are futile at best because the crowd is an unmoving wall, refusing to part for his trembling figure.

With a deep breath, he turns around, eyes expanding in fear. Namjoon must be brought here, to the past or whatever this world may be, for a reason… but that fear, the very same one that spikes his heart rate to a million miles an hour, only melts away at the sight of your face.

Grief swims in your once sparkling eyes, but what surprises him most is how exhausted you looked – like you’ve been holding yourself back from breaking numerous times, only to be disappointed by something repeatedly.

Or someone.

“Did I... do this to you?” he whispers, taking a step forward to meet you toe-to-toe. He moves to touch your cheek, but his hand freezes in the air when a single tear escapes.

However, you lean into the touch, closing your eyes before heaving a sigh. Instead of an answer, you wave your hand into the air. A mirror appears in front of Namjoon, decorated with ornate gold trimming. He could only gape as he stares into his reflection, but truthfully all the panic and anxiety over the past few hours has rendered him incapable of surprise. Nothing in this world, and probably the next, could ever phase him anymore.

“What’s this?” he asks, though he has a feeling he’s about to find out.

Sure enough, the sad smile reemerges. “Just watch and you’ll see.”

Namjoon only nods. Before him, the surface of the mirror swirls until a scene begins to play out like a grand TV.

There you sit in your living room, wearing a deep-plum gown, anxiously checking your phone for the time before fiddling with the gold band that adorns your finger. Namjoon smiles warmly at your little habit, the intricacies that make you all the more lovely even after years of living together.

You looked beautiful, that's no surprise, matching the floor-length gown with the dangly earrings he got you for your birthday the year before. He remembers the garment vividly; having seen it hang on the door of your shared wardrobe because you were planning on wearing it… to your fifth anniversary dinner. The very same event that he cancelled last minute because he chose to work.

His smile drops.

It’s the first of many promises that he’ll fail to keep.

Namjoon could only stare helplessly as you continue to wait. The scene skips forward a few times until the mirror shows you pacing around your living room with your phone pressed into your ear. You've bunched up the plum-coloured gown by your knees to make it easier for you to move.

His heart sinks. How many times had you called him that night?

You keep trying his phone, and with every call that he ignored that night, the panic inside you continued to build. He can’t hear what you’re saying – your words overpowered by the sound of guilt and regret – but at this point, you’re probably calling everyone you know to see if anyone could get a hold of him.

“Jimin?" You carded your fingers in your hair as you sighed in relief to hear Namjoon's secretary's voice. "Is he okay? Where's Namjoon? I’ve called him again and again and—What? He’s… where?” Your voice in the mirror is slightly distorted, but Namjoon can hear the tightness in your words before the tone switches to disbelief. He doesn’t have to hear the rest of the conversation to remember where he was that night.

“No, don’t bother him. Yeah, I’m fine," you lie. "Good night.”

When your call with Jimin ends, you sink to the floor and weep.

The mirror swirls again, showing more scenes of you waiting around for him in various shades of refinery – an emerald gown, a scarlet cocktail dress… the list goes on. With each passing scene, Namjoon could see the hope in your eyes diminishing, and with It, regret piling high on his shoulders. He's not sure how much more of this he can take.

In one scene, only after waiting for what seemed to be an hour, in a blush-coloured top that he hadn't seen before, you left and returned with an open bottle of wine. After cursing Namjoon under your breath, you brought the neck to your lips and drank, and drank, and drank. Never once taking a breath for air, until a fourth of the bottle is gone.

Yet even through your grief, he could see the sliver of hope you held onto, because you kept on agreeing to his promises, giving him chance after chance that he doesn't take. His heart breaks continuously, the already shattered pieces crumbling further into dust as he could do nothing else, but watch.

Then the mirror shifts once more to a scene from this morning, focusing on how you lingered at the large portrait of the two of you on your wedding day. He watches you shuffle into the living room and stare at something on the coffee table, but it’s not before the angle shifts again that he could see what it was. He could do nothing else but stare at the bolded words on the stacks of paper with his heart lodged in his throat.

It’s only when his vision begins to swim that Namjoon realizes that he’s crying.

After the last scene, the vision shuts off, returning the looking glass into a normal, albeit unsually ornate, mirror.

The after-images of you dance in Namjoon’s mind: of you drinking, of you worried, of you waiting for him. All of a sudden, it doesn’t matter that he’s the president of his company, everything ceases to have meaning when there’s a chance that he could lose you forever. And he's sure that nothing, no amount of expensive gifts in the world or pretty words, will bring you back once you leave him.

“How do I fix this?” he cries, wiping the tears away with his sleeve. “I wanna go back to my world.”

Your expression remains doubtful, but Namjoon presses on. "Please, I want to make this right," he begs, falling to his knees while pressing his forehead on the back of your hand. The gold band you wear glints in the light, and he cements his final promise with a light kiss on your finger. "Please."

"Okay," you relent quietly. “I’ll return you to your world, but Joon… can you promise me that you won’t break her heart—our hearts again?”

It’s his turn to offer a smile, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. It’ll take a miracle to convince you that he’s changed, but he’s willing to risk it all. Namjoon is more proud of his title as your husband than the president of his company, and he hopes that the ambition in his eyes convinces you of that.

“I swear it.”

And the world fades to black.

---

Namjoon gasps awake.

The ballroom is gone – replaced by the familiar surroundings of his office, but he has no time to rejoice in his return because he has to leave. Now.

Just as he puts his coat on, he spots your gift sitting prettily on his desk. He almost took it with him, but he remembers what the present symbolized – empty promises and apologies – and decided to leave it and run. His footsteps pounding against the pavement is indistinguishable from the sound of his heart hammering against his ribcage; his breath coming up in puffs as he yanks door after door open, taking the stairs two–sometimes three at a time, in his quest to get to his car.

The snow that pelts against his windshield makes it hard for him to see the road. Even his fog lights are of little use with the storm raging outside. The tires slide against the sleek pavement, unable to find purchase on the unpaved ground.

“Come on!” Namjoon snarls, white-knuckles gripping on the steering wheel as he squints to find a path through the glittering snow.

This trial, however, is nothing. No mere element will stop him from coming home to you.

Wait for me for one last time, he prays, powering through the sleet and flurry dancing outside. Please. Just this once.

---

It’s your last night sleeping in this giant bed.

When the morning comes, you’ll head to Namjoon’s office and hand him the papers yourself, ones that contain your signatures to dissolve your current arrangement. Will he cry? Beg you to stay? Maybe once upon a time he would have, but you’re not sure if the current Namjoon’s the same person you married all those years ago.

The clock had chimed twelve times before you decided that Namjoon wasn’t going to make it home for Christmas again this year, and you had to peel your weeping self back to the bedroom to get ready for bed.

Now, in the darkness, little else matters. Come morning, you’ll be gone, leaving only the photographs lining the halls of this empty house as evidence of your presence.

Still, you hope he’ll think of you fondly from time to time.

---

Just a little bit more.

With the roads devoid of its usual traffic, Namjoon’s able to make it inside his neighbourhood in a quarter of the time it would normally take. Turning the corner into his street, his heart sinks when he sees that the house is dark. You’ve turned all the lights off, save for the one that shines above the front porch.

She’s just asleep, he thinks as he takes the front steps two at a time. Please, god, let her be asleep.

The only time he stops is to discard his wet shoes and coat into a pile by the front door. He doesn't bother with the lights, not when he's too much in a hurry to be by your side. He walks briskly past the couch where you sat, and the beautiful portraits of the two of you, hammering home the promise that he hopes to make things right.

Yet when he reaches his destination, he stutters to a stop, his hand hovering in the air. The door to your shared bedroom has never been this imposing. It towers over him like a giant, mocking his small figure despite Namjoon being close to six feet tall. This was far more nerve wracking than when he proposed to you all those years ago. With a final plea that you haven’t left him for good, his clammy hand wraps around the door handle, and Namjoon walks inside.

“Baby?”

He would have otherwise been terrified of the silence, but in this case, Namjoon’s relieved. He spies your curled up frame in the covers, with half your face buried into the pillow. Even though there’s a storm raging outside, there you lay, a vision of peace.

Namjoon could feel his throat close up again, the tears threatening to spill out from inside of him. He could watch you all night, counting the breaths while watching the rise and fall of your chest. In the shadow of the night, he stands, debating on if he should wake you. It’s no doubt an urgent conversation, but could it wait until tomorrow?

With shaky fingers, Namjoon sweeps his fingers across your cheek. A tear escapes, falling into the sheets. How long did you wait this time? How many hours did you spend checking your phone and looking outside before you realized he wasn’t coming home? Guilt and regret stabs at his chest. All this pain, this sorrow that lines your beautiful face, it could have all been avoided if he just listened.

“Baby… I’m sorry,” he whispers.

At the sound of Namjoon’s voice, your eyes flutter open. “Joon?” you croak, your own voice thick with sleep as you sit up. “Is that really you?” Your eyes expand at the sight of your husband’s eyes, ringed with red and full of anguish. What's going on?

“Yes,” he cries. Namjoon's fingers graze your cheek, before his palm cradles your face. “It’s me. I’m here. I’m late, I’m sorry, but I swear that it’s the last time I’ll make you wait for me.”

Your own eyes well with tears at the raw emotion in his voice. Your hand moves to touch his face. Though his cheekbones are cold, there's an undeniable realness to this. It isn't a dream. Namjoon's really here.

You have spent countless nights wishing for him to return home and into your arms, but now that it's happening, you can't find yourself to forgive him so easily. Willing your tears at bay, you move away from his touch. You try not to wince at the crestfallen look on Namjoon's face.

"Why are you here?"

He doesn't reply, though his mouth opens and shuts a few times. "I came… to make it right," he finally utters in a small voice.

Heat rises to your cheeks. How dare he say that without knowing anything; not how long you've waited or how much you've cried? And how convenient, just as you're about to leave, he somehow miraculously comes to his senses?

"I can't believe you!" The weather outside can't eclipse your fury. "You have no right coming back here to seek forgiveness." You can't stop the hot tears from falling, causing the edge of your words to sharpen more than any knife you could wield. He's going to feel it all; your grief from having to wait, and the results of your patience wearing thin.

"Namjoon… I waited for you for months. I tried talking to you about it too, but you didn't listen," you accuse, trying not to be swayed when he winces at the truth. "The first time it happened, do you have any fucking idea how scared I was? Every time I call, no one seems to know where you are! I was worried that something bad had happened."

He sits in front of you solemnly, with his chin tucked into his chest.

"But everything was fine, wasn't it?" you chuckle bitterly. "It wasn't until I called Jimin that I realised… you've changed. You stopped caring about me, and about our relationship.

"And now, you want to come here and apologise? All I ever wanted,” you hiccup, but you don't let the sob stop you from talking, “All I ever needed was you, Joon. I couldn’t have cared less about the expensive presents.”

“I’m sorry," he cries, tears flowing steadily from his eyes. “I’m an idiot for taking you for granted, and I can't believe how long it took me to figure out just how badly I've fucked up. Please," Namjoon offers you a hand. "Just give me one more chance."

Funny. How long have you extended your own hand only to be met with refusal?

You shake your head, clenching the blanket tightly under your grip to avoid the temptation. “Why couldn’t you have prioritized us sooner, Joon?” Your words come out broken, exhaustion seeping into every word. “You kept pushing me away, and I don’t get it. I just wanted it to be you, only you."

The silence takes over as you let the words sink in. But from the lack of response from Namjoon, you continue after a heavy sigh, "God. I'm stupid," you laugh ruefully with a shake of your head. "I should’ve left you a long time ago, back when I first realized that our relationship was no longer a priority—but a convenience.”

Your husband in front of you only repeats his apologies, hanging his head so his hair covers his face. The 'sorry's… they ring hollow now, having been repeated so frequently without change that it ceases to have all meaning.

And for you. After spending so much time wishing, there is truly nothing more to be said; no more tears to shed.

The fury has died.

All that's left of you is an empty shell, a person completely devoid of emotion, aside from this heavy weariness.

You don't spare him a glance, staring straight at the storm outside instead.

"You’re right. I took you... I took us for granted," Namjoon whispers, his voice just as seemingly exhausted as yours. Even if you wanted to be angry at his audacity, you couldn't. There's truly no more you can give him. What good is a relationship without trust?

Yet when his shaky fingers clasp around yours, you can't stop the seed of hope from planting itself in your heart, and finally, you bring your eyes to meet his.

"I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure that this doesn’t happen again," he vows, marking the promise with a squeeze of his hand. "Please. Is there any way that you can give me a second chance?”

Your heart shatters as though it hasn’t been broken before. You want to give in; to believe that things have changed, but you can’t hold out hope that this sudden revelation of his would last, because there's no way you'll survive if this all turns out to be a farce.

“I can’t forgive you yet, Namjoon.” You could feel him stiffen, but you can't care about that. You're just tired, so tired. “I just… I just need some time away to gather my thoughts.”

He lets go of your hand then, but his eyes continue to bore holes into you. It’s funny how, after all this time, you finally understand one another, just at the possible end of your relationship.

You expect his pride to pull out all the stops; to oppose - not above begging for you to stay, and you know you'd give in if he had, but to your surprise, Namjoon only nods.

“Take all the time you need,” he sighs, trying to smile, though gravity keeps pulling the corners of his lips downward. “But I want you to know that I won’t stop trying to make it up to you.”

And maybe, just maybe, that little seed of hope can grow into something beautiful; something that marks a new beginning.

But only time will tell. And you're willing to wait only until spring.

---

The next few years were hard.

Though you decided against moving away, you and Namjoon spent most of it in counseling as you learned to communicate with each other again. The progress was slow, and it’s often frustrating when you don’t see eye-to-eye, but when you started feeling distrustful, you held on to the promise that Namjoon made that night.

Even when the seasons changed and his work got busier, and you worried that he’d return to his old habits, Namjoon stayed true to his word, shifting his priorities so that your relationship came ahead of his job.

You're proud to report that the two of you have let the grief be a turning point to forge for a better future.

The holidays came early this year, it seems, because by the middle of November, your house was all decked in streamers and lights. Namjoon had purchased a real Christmas tree last week, claiming that it was more festive than the fake one you normally used. Much to your dismay, he also purchased some red and green sweaters for the two of you to wear while posing for the camera.

“Ugh, it’s a scam!” Namjoon complained as you descended down the stairs. “How could you make an ugly sweater look good?”

“Remember that this was all your idea, okay? Sorry that I have a super model body,” you laughed as you came to greet him with a kiss.

Namjoon joined you in your laughter before throwing you a wink. “Ah, you finally acknowledged your good looks! God I'm the luckiest man in the world.” He smiled before pulling you in for another kiss, and you couldn’t help but smile as his lips glided over yours. “Should we just forget about the presents? I don't think I can stop kissing you."

You giggled before pushing him away. "No! You bought these wonderful and definite not itchy sweaters. It would be a shame to take it off," you wink.

"Actually, I can't think of a better idea," he grins before pulling you into his arms.

The heat from his kisses have returned - just like the old times when you first fell in love, but along with it, comes a quiet reassurance built from years of hardship, something neither of you take for granted. When you part ways, you sigh, already longing for the moment when your lips could reacquaint with his.

Oh, how you used to recoil away from his touch, and look at you now, unable to spend five seconds apart from each other.

And Christmas, once as dreary as the season that it belongs to, has returned with laughter. And even though the wind had kicked up a storm again, your body’s warm against Namjoon, and your heart is finally safe as it remains nestled in his hands.

moon's notes: were you surprised!!! i hope you loved it ash!! your prompt choices were so interesting, so i hope you liked the way i tied it all together. cheers, my dear. i hope you have the BEST holiday 🎄

to ash: i decided to write something a bit extra because i really wanted to sneak this in, but couldn't figure out where to place it in the story. but i hope you enjoy this! consider it a bonus present ;)

ash's stocking stuffer:

He kept aside the book he was reading and took the mug from your hand and asked if Soobin fell asleep by using signals. You replied in the same manner that yes he did and laughed as much silently as you could.

Namjoon toppled over the blanket and made space for you to sit in. You made yourself comfortable and pulled the blanket over both of you. You leaned into him as he rounded his right hand around your back. The warmth was more than the blanket could provide. You smiled and sipped on your cocoa.

The silence was comforting as you two continued to watch the snowflakes falling slowly like petals from the sky in your side yard.

You loved winter. It always came with the happiest moments in your life. As much as people referred to winter as harsh you couldn't help but disagree with it. Winter had its own beauty. The snow falling all over making everything a white wonderland, the warmth of hot cocoa in your hands, the comfortable sleep under the warm blanket, the fresh vegetables, homemade cakes, family, reunions - all these elements made winter a happiness box just waiting to be opened. Winter, your favourite season, had brought all your favourite person to your life. Winter brought Namjoon to you.

You still remembered as clear as crystal snow the day you first met Namjoon. It was a cold day of mid-November. After being pestered by your best friend for good long month you had agreed to go on this blind date she had set. According to her, your lonely ass was getting too savage for her own love life so you should soften yourself up by falling in the love scene and get magically transformed overnight.

You had laughed at her that nothing like that happens. But you were proved wrong very soon.

Your blind date was Namjoon. First impression? Too handsome for your own good and an instant crush on those dimples. However the fact that made you want to see him more was him. The way you could talk almost about everything with him with such ease, the way he made you laugh, the way his eyes sparkled with happiness, the way he made you feel important, the way he talked about everything with such love made that love seep into your heart, the way Namjoon brought the colours and warmth of Autumn in your white winter.

And you two kept wanting to see each other more often than not. In no time you were the softest person in love, still savage, but softer. As your best friend, Navier, had predicted - magically transformed.

The very next year on Christmas Namjoon came to your house to celebrate Christmas with your family. Namjoon had became almost a part of the family and your parents were more than happy to let him join in for the Christmas celebration.

For the whole evening you two stole glances at each other while keeping up with the festivity but Namjoon for some reason seemed tensed. You wanted to ask him but there was no alone time when the whole family was present.

When the dinner ended it was the time for gifts. Everyone gathered in the living room and sat on the carpet by the Christmas tree whose bottom was cladded with gifts.

Your mom passed the gifts one by one reading aloud from who it was and for whom.

After several gifts your mom announced, "And this pretty blue one is from Y/n for Namjoon!" She smiled and everyone waited eagerly for Namjoon to open the wrapped present.

You had made the gift taking a whole week. It was a handmade album with all your memories captured in polaroids and a handwritten letter in each page expressing how much you loved him and how much those memories meant to you, how much he meant to you.

The gift brought Namjoon to tears and he was not the one to bottle up his feelings. Seeing his tears fall, your dad took him into a side hug, "I like this gentleman." and nodded his head while patting him.

Namjoon laughed through his tears at his remark and looked at you. Your teary eyes met his and he mouthed "I love you." To which you replied in the same way with a smile, "I love you too."

After a few more gift exchanges it was turn for Namjoon's gift for you. For some reason your heartbeat picked up pace and you started opening the wrapper with shaky hands.

It was a small box and it was covered in many layers of wrappers. You didn't know why but your hands shook more with each layer. You told yourself that it was the cold but you knew it wasn't.

When you opened the third wrapper, still shaking, you felt Namjoon's warmth on your hands. And just like an unknown wizardry you calmed down. He took the gift from your hands and started opening the wrappers. After the fifth wrapper he took out the box and knelt before you, "You know when you said that you loved winter it made me love it too because it brought me you. And I don't know if I would ever be warm enough without you by my side. So I wanted to ask you for a really big favour. Would you do me the honour of spending all the coming winters by my side, kissing under the mistletoe, baking cookies and cakes and all those sweet little things but most importantly loving each other? Will you marry me?"

Tears fell like restless snowflakes from your eyes and you nodded, unable to muster any words from your mouth as feelings jammed your heart. Namjoon smiled and slipped the ring in your finger. Then he took you into his embrace. He was warm and his warmth melted you into more tears, tears of happiness.

A small cozy wedding in February was exactly how you wanted your wedding to be; with all the family members and friends being happy at your happiness, winter scented love radiating in everyone's heart and laughter vibrating in the atmosphere. It was perfect and Namjoon's hand in yours made everything more beautiful.

After two years of absolute happiness you gave birth to Soobin in January. A small bean full of love who you called your winter magic, your snow prince. Your family was complete. You thought it would be a crime if you asked for more and you didn't want to wish for anything more either.

You just wanted to grow old with this love surrounding you.

•••••••

Tucking yourselves under the blanket you scooched near Namjoon and wrapped your hand around Namjoon's chest - all ready to fall asleep in the comfiest setting. Namjoon pulled you closer and placed a kiss on your forehead making you smile. You were about to say something when his phone buzzed and he went out slowly with the phone making sure not to wake up Soobin.

When even after ten minutes he didn't return you went out and saw him sitting on the sofa with his right hand on his forehead. You became worried at his posture and sat on the sofa arm keeping your palm softly on his shoulder. Your sudden presence surprised him but he was quick to lean his head on your side to find some comfort.

You asked, "What is it?"

He sighed, "I got the e-mail. It's the Republic of Korea Army. My application has been approved."

You had made yourself prepare for this day for a long time now but knowing that it's finally going to happen an unknown fear grasped your heart.

You kneeled down in front of him and took his hand into your warm ones, "W-when do you have to go?"

"June. At least I have some time and I'll be here for Soobin's 3rd birthday." He faintly smiled.

"Yeah." You whispered reciprocating his smile.

He leaned his head forward and you two leaned your foreheads against each other. For the first time in years you shed tears that hurt you, that had sadness in them.

Namjoon got up from the sofa and sat beside you; his eyes wandered off somewhere you didn't know and he started talking in a lost tone, "You know what y/n, I regret it so much.. I feel so stupid. I just regret it so much that I didn't apply until the last year." A deep sigh escaped his mouth and he continued, "I was always so invested in building up a secure career that I gave away all the early chances of going and when you came into my life I pushed the idea so far behind my head that I forgot what it would feel like to leave you for that long. It never crossed my mind that I'll stay away from you at some point of my life. And now that I have to do that I am scared. I am lost. I don't want to go. Leaving you two here and going so far away scares me. Who knows for how long I would have to stay there without a single leave... Who knows how long I will be able to stay there without feeling your warmth, without holding Soobin in my arms, without seeing you two smile in the setting sun."

You held his hands to comfort him but deep down you knew that it was to comfort yourself. Your feelings weren't any different than Namjoon's. You were scared too. You wanted to run away somewhere far away with him and Soobin so that he didn't have to go to the military service. But it was nothing except a stupid wish. Reality was nearer than you wanted it to be.

"I am scared too." You finally broke the silence that prevailed for a while.

He looked at you with his glistening eyes.

"But there's nothing we can about this. And I would hate to spend the rest of the days before you go moping over this. Also I would absolutely hate it if you go to jail! Afterall five years is more than two years!" You smiled.

He smiled at your attempt to lighten the mood and kissed you softly on the lips. It felt like all the dams that held your tears broke loose when your lips met. You cried. You cried in his kiss.

Namjoon whispered in your lips, "It's okay. You don't have to be strong for me. We can both be strong for each other. It's okay to cry."

You felt warm tears on your cheeks. They were Namjoon's. It was a night when snowflakes fell outside more roughly as if they were crying making up for all the tears you couldn't cry that night. They fell ceaselessly as if telling you that it was here for you, to fall when you couldn't stay up anymore.

The next five months went like a passing wind. Namjoon and you both made sure to make enough memories to make up for the next one and a half years but for some reason it felt like nothing was enough. However you decided to not dwell on the inevitable sadness.

One thing that was relieving was that Soobin won't feel the pain at the bigger side since he was too young to understand any of it. And you decided to put on the happy face only for his sake.

A trainwreck was what you were on the day that Namjoon left. You had only fooled yourself that it's going to be easier since you knew it would happen eventually but it was all a mirage. You were devastated.

Finding you crying to yourself in your bed Soobin wiped those tears with his own little hands and said in his half known words, "Mom, don' cry. Don' cry. See me not cry. Papa said he'll be here for Santa day."

You'd have cried yourself to dry if it hadn't been for Soobin. He, despite being so young managed to drive you get through the days.

And in a few weeks you had accepted that life had to go on even though you missed him. You continued your work that you had taken a small leave from and you admitted Soobin to the private schooling your company provided for elementary kids in their office premises.

Days turned to months and you started to get used to the monotonous life except for the part where Soobin filled it with his childish joys.

Namjoon's call came rarely since he was in active duty. You had told him not to take the active duty in the Army when he was applying because you were worried about the risk it came with. But Namjoon had argued back with the point that it was the one with the shortest term and he would be extra careful. He wanted to come back home at the earliest possible opportunity.

You wanted it too - for him to come back home the soonest. So you told yourself that his point was just and there won't be any issues during Namjoon's service. You shoved the guilt in the farthest corner of your mind and thought selfishly. More than the risk of the job you had thought about him coming back soon and now that guilt ate you away everytime his calls were delayed. You blamed yourself for not pressuring him to take a non-active duty.

That Christmas eve the Namjoon that came back home was tired, rough features marked his body and the only thing he needed was your warmth and Soobin's sparkling eyes to make his tired smile go away.

On the day of Christmas Namjoon baked cookies and cakes with you. Soobin's little helping hands made the kitchen as white as the snow covered lawn outside. There was flour everywhere - on the kitchen island, on your hair, on your dress. The kitchen was filled with your screams, Namjoon's laughter and Soobin's giggles - a perfect Christmas morning.

You didn't know how much you have longed for this day to come until it came.

While you were cleaning the kitchen island after putting the cake in the microwave Namjoon hugged you from the back. You got surprised at first but then your body sank in the familiar warmth giving you goosebumps. A faint smile marked his lips and he closed his eyes as if he was loading this memory into his brain to reminisce later.

You stood there like that for long until the microwave sound went off startling you two out of the trance like moment.

Soobin came running at the sound, "Moooom I am hungryyyyy! Let's go see the big Christmas tree today!!!"

You laughed at his spontaneity, "Are you going to eat the Christmas tree?"

"Ye... Nooo! The cake! I want to eat the cake!" He whined.

Namjoon walked over to Soobin and knelt before him, "Yes! Let's eat first! Then we'll go to see the big Christmas tree! And then come back quickly, okay?"

"Why quickly? I want to see the fairy lights! And visit Santa!" Soobin exclaimed with his big eyes.

You both laughed at his antics.

Namjoon held his son's shoulders and said, "We'll do that but really fast! Because your grandmas and grandpas are coming today!"

At the mention of his grandparents Soobin's eyes lit up and he sprinted to his dollhouse to announce the big news to his doll friends while giving out a scream of joy.

•••••••

The joy that came so late went away at an even quicker pace. Looking at the empty side of the bed a heavy sigh came out of you mouth.

"Stay safe." You whispered as if Namjoon was still there.

Soobin hopped on bed and hugging you he said softly, "Mom don't worry. Papa will be safe! He is a superhero!"

His words made you smile, "Yeah, he is."

"And guess who I am?" He stood up on bed with expanded chest.

"Who?" You asked with all the curiosity you could assemble.

"I am Soobin! His assistant! I'll protect you! And I am way better than Robin!" He said with pride.

"Woah! You are so amazing! I am counting on you for protecting me!" You exclaimed.

Soobin's face softened at your reply and he sat down beside you and touched your face with his small fluffy hands, "Then promise me you won't cry."

His words broke the last wire that holding your sadness inside.

You held his puffy smiling cheeks in your hands, "You know what the superhero said to me? He told me that it's okay to cry. Crying doesn't mean you are weak. So you don't have to hold your tears back for me. It's okay to cry."

"Mom..." He looked down and whispered.

"Yes?" You asked.

"I miss papa!" He let out a wail and threw himself in your arms.

He cried. That night you both cried for a long time until Soobin fell asleep, until you fell asleep.

•••••••

You wished for the seasons to change quickly but they never paid attention to your wishes; they moved at their own pace. Days were painted a bit of monochrome colour but Soobin managed to add pastels to them.

He always told you that papa was going to come back on Christmas and that you only have to wait for Christmas to come just like you waited every year.

"Papa promised me mom! He said that Santa will give me the new PlayStation if I be a good boy! Papa will be there to open the gift with me!"

You had smiled and cursed yourself for not being the mature and strong one here. You needed to be the one to console Soobin, not the other way around. But Namjoon's absence made a hole so big in your life that you couldn't fill it no matter what.

July came with a bitter news and you almost felt like you had been betrayed by God just when you were starting to get ahold of yourself as months left were less.

In the evening news it was announced that the tension at the border had increased and active duty soldiers were required to be on the posts all the time. The issue could get extended upto next year resulting in the tenure of service getting extended for those who were in their last service months.

After the news had ended you received a call from Namjoon.

You went outside in the porch to talk to him. You were torn between how you should feel about the news. It was like a war within yourself to accept the situation or let your vulnerable self take over.

The first thing Namjoon did on the phone was apologize. You were taken aback - he had nothing to apologise for. His voice sounded tired and sad. You realised that as much as you were suffering Namjoon was putting up with more than that. At least you had Soobin with you. Namjoon only had memories of home to pass his days with.

"Why are you saying sorry? It's not your fault! Also we'll be fine here, waiting for you. Just take care of yourself and stay safe. Okay?" You said, sounding as much normal as you could.

Namjoon's sigh was heard over the phone and you could understand that he was on the verge of crying.

"I'll try to... I.. just miss you guys a lot!"

"I miss you too... Just don't count the days. Let it pass. Waiting will make it longer.."

"Yeah you are right.. I hope you are doing that too."

"I am! That's why I am telling you to do so!" You lied.

"How is Soobin?" He asked.

"Oh! He is better than me. He is dealing with this like I should be."

"Huh! Seems like he takes after me!" Namjoon teased.

"Hello mister! You are not any better than me in this situation! No need to get cocky!" You countered.

Namjoon laughed. You smiled as your eyes filled to the brim. It's been days hearing his laugh.

"Anyways I have to go now. You don't have to tell Soobin anything about this! Situations may change and I may come back as scheduled! So you also don't have to worry about me, okay?" He said softly.

"Yes.." you answered nodding your head as if he could see you.

•••••••

November came with it's usual chilliness but what new came with it was Soobin's sadness.

One November afternoon Soobin came home and started crying. When you hugged him and asked what happened he said between hiccups, "Yeri said that papa won't come for Christmas. That bad people are fighting and papa have to be there with them! Why mom? Why does papa have to be their in other people's fights? Why can't those bad people fight for themselves?"

You couldn't find words to console him - there was none. His little questions held such great weight that muted you.

You held him close and could nothing but pat him soothingly until he stopped crying.

The coming days Soobin badgered you with questions.

"Mom! Yeri was lying, right?"

"Mom! Why do people fight?"

"Mom! Why should papa solve other people's fights?"

You couldn't answer anything except staring blankly at his little figure that looked at you with his big eyes looking for potential answers.

"Mom! Papa will be here for Christmas like last year, isn't it?"

"Yes! He'll be here!" You answered weakly.

"Then why isn't he calling us anymore like he used to?" His face fell.

You became concerned that he will cry in no time so you held his hands and said, "He is just a little bit busy. Nothing more than that sweetheart. But you know what if you be a good boy and wish for your papa to come home soon to Santa then he will grant your wish!"

"Really?" Soobin's eyes sparkled at the possibility.

"Of course! But remember you have to be a good boy. You have to be a good boy in school, eat properly and listen to mom, okay?"

"I can do that! I'll be the goodest boy ever!" He jumped.

"Mhm. Not 'goodest'. It's 'best'!" You corrected his cute mistake.

"Yes! Best boy ever!"

•••••••

You had kept eager eyes on news every day from then to keep track of the situation. Sometimes it was promising and sometimes it was not hopeful. The only thing you could do was hope with Soobin by your side who really took what you had said that day seriously and was being the 'goodest' boy as he promised.

You were grateful that your parents came home earlier this year for Christmas and helped you decorate the house. Soobin stayed distracted with all the love and attention his grandmothers smothered him with, at least you thought so.

Just like ever year you decorated the Christmas tree, put fairy lights everywhere, hung up stockings in advance for each member of the family.

At midnight you woke up silently after everyone had gone to sleep to see what Soobin had written in his "Dear Santa..".

You tiptoed across the living room and took out Soobin's letter.

"Dear Santa,

I feel like the cold this year is more than the previous ones. Are you okay in the North Pole? I think it's colder there than it is here. So when you come here I hope you'll feel a little bit warmer.

I have been the best boy as mom has told me. I hope that made you happy. I am in your Nice list, right? I think I am! Because I really have been a good boy. So please grant my wish! Please bring papa back. I want to bake cookies and cakes, go see the fairy lights and big Christmas tree at the Town Square with papa just like last time. I want to hug papa. If papa is here mom will not cry anymore. How good it is going to be to see her smile everyday. I hope you will grant my wish.

Have a happy journey here.

Also I don't want the PlayStation. ^^ "

Somewhere along the course of the letter you had started crying. A sharp pain stabbed your heart and you sat on the floor crying holding the letter for a long time as the clock ticked away.

At about two in the morning you received a call. You got startled and woke up realising that you had fallen asleep on the carpet by the fireplace.

It was Namjoon. You received the call immediately and he whispered, "Open the door."

"The hell!" A curse left your mouth and you ran to the main door.

You felt like it had been ages since you lied beside him engulfed in his warmth. You hugged him close as if he was a fragment of your dream, as if he would disperse if you don't hold him. You couldn't believe he was right there and you could hold him, touch him, kiss him.

"So tell me, how are you here so early when the issue is still going on at the border?" You asked, curious about his early arrival than expected.

"General Kim took care of everything. The situation has been negotiated. There's nothing going on right now." He explained and tucked the small strand of hair from your face.

"Then how come the news isn't showing anything?"

"It's because the higher ups didn't reveal the news. Actually every news you saw was what had already happened a few days ago. The officials wanted to keep it that way. I don't know the reason though. Also I am not supposed to tell you all these but I am telling you because I love you so much!" He pinched your nose.

"Ahaha taking every opportunity to flirt, huh?"

"Is it not working?"

"Can't say that it's not." You blushed and kissed him.

You had craved his touch so much on your body that you kissed him deeper wanting to take all of him. But you stopped. You remembered his tired face when he walked in as if he hadn't slept in days. He needed rest.

He looked at you confusedly when you pulled away from the kiss.

"We have plenty of time to continue this. Let's just sleep tonight." You caressed his face.

He understood what you meant and hugged you making you the little spoon. A faint smile painted your lips as you fell asleep.

The next morning a loud scream startled you when you were preparing for baking cookies.

You ran out into the living room only to find Soobin holding the PlayStation he wanted so much in his hands pouting hard, almost on the verge of tears.

Upon seeing you he said in broken voice, "Mom! Haven't I been the best boy? Where's papa?"

"Of course you have been! You are my bestest boy!" Namjoon entered into the living room as if he was just waiting for making this entrance.

Soobin's eyes transformed from big to bigger and giving the PlayStation to you he ran towards Namjoon.

Namjoon picked him up and Soobin hugged him with all his might, "Santa is the best!"

"And what about papa?"

"Papa is the bestest!" He shouted by throwing his hands upwards and then again hugging him he asked with his lips pursed in a pout, "You won't leave again, right papa?"

"Yes, I won't leave." Namjoon set him down and knelt down in front of him, "Now you better not pout because?"

"Because it's Christmas!!"

He cried out in joy and hugged him again.

•••••••

Tucking sleeping Soobin in his bed you went to the kitchen only to find Namjoon making hot chocolate for both of you. You smiled and stood by his side watching him whisking the mixture.

Noticing you standing there he smiled shyly and said, "I'll be done soon! You should go and make yourself comfortable on the couch!"

"No. Let's go together." You insisted.

"Okay!" He nodded and whisked in vanilla on top of the hot chocolate.

You sat in your sheltered position by Namjoon and took a sip from the mug.

"It's been so long tasting your hot chocolate." Your voice drifted away.

He smirked into the mug and said, "There's so many things that we haven't done in so long."

You looked at him and his face gave away what he meant.

"Nothing else roam around that dirty mind of yours!" You slapped his arm with your free hand.

"Uh uh be careful! The chocolate will spill. Watch where your hands go miss! Also did I mention anything specific? Seems like someone else is the dirty minded here." He chuckled.

Your face flushed red and you looked at other side, "Then what were you talking about?"

"Well, I was thinking about going on a date, biking by the Han river, visit that old restaurant whose pasta you love so much." He said softly.

Absent-mindedly you had kept your head on his shoulders and hummed as you could see doing all those in your mind, "Mhm. I would love that."

Namjoon finished his hot chocolate and keeping it on the table he went back to his former position and said, "Also, as you have already picked the subject, Soobin was telling me today that he would love to have a little sibling."

"Oh really? So what are you thinking?" You asked.

"Well I don't see any reason to deny his wish. Do you?" He replied.

"Neither do I. I think next Christmas he would have something more to look forward to other than gifts." You replied softly.

Namjoon broke into a wide smile. You wrapped the blanket around you two and leaned comfortably on him as he held you close.

You watched as night grew longer the snowflakes fell outside without any rest. They shined in the porch light just like pixie dusts. Just like magic from winter wizard in it's white cloak.

He lowers himself to kiss your shoulder and trail them along your neck and jawline until finally your lips, where he lingered longer than the others. He giggles low and brush his lips to the helix of your ear, whispering hotly, "Brought you coffee."

Sliding your hand up his shoulder with your eyes closed still, you circled your arm around his neck and pulled him for a peck with a small suggestive moan, "Tell me all the things I want to hear...you know the way to my heart, mister..." you scrunch your face, and let out a question in a feigned manner, "...who are you again?"

Yoongi bit his lips, and hummed, "Oh dearie, you shouldn't be in my bed if you don't remember my name. And I'm pretty sure it was the only name you chanted a few days ago. This is unfair," he pouted.

"What's unfair?" You peeked at him through one eye. "...I know what your name is, but you don't remember mine..." he murmured, "I'm disappointed, Mrs. Min."

You pinched his chin and shaked it lightly, "Soon. Eager are we."

Yoongi handed you your coffee while you're still seated in bed. He took the paper bag earlier and folded one leg underneath him, "Look what I got from Innisfree."

You took a mouthful gulp of coffee and shook your head out to feigned disapproval.

"...a 100 more days set for a bride-to-be!" Yoongi rejoiced.

"I know, I'm the best fiance there is," Yoongi boasted and had to gulp down the drink in a hurry.

"I didn't know they have these..." You gasped, eyes crinkling at the corners in graceful excitement and collected the box in your hand, gingerly, carefully and so appreciatively. Someone would get you something as expensive and as thoughtful as these. Coming from a male perspective, Yoongi is highly unusual. Be it his love towards Holly, the house dog, and children.

"And, the invitation cards are ready. So we are going to the print shop to fetch it. And then we have food tasting next week," Yoongi listed, "I've emptied my schedule for the whole week. So you don't have to worry about that."

You leaned your head on his shoulder, sitting face to face, "Oh thank goodness for your existence. I have Hoseok's birthday to worry about and I'm about to go insane, and then there's yours too...holy fuck."

Piling yourself with a humanly impossible task is never the plan. The wedding had to be around May this year, and you have been planning it for at least a year. The invitation cards are ready and it feels so real now that Yoongi brought you the things you needed to organize the wedding.

Sometimes things get too difficult too handle that you almost give up. Thankfully, Yoongi understood the pressure of a wedding and so he catches everything that falls out of your hand, metaphorically speaking. Yoongi too is as busy as you are, he had just started his own firm and under the guidance of your father, he was able to organize a few things on his own. 

Sometimes, you worry that you're taking up his time by being an emotional wreck especially at the eve of wedding planning, but Yoongi proved to you that it was nothing more than just a mood swing--something he had been effortlessly finding his way about. He was needless to say, impressive in his way of dealing with ordeals that you find meticulous. A God-sent lovable creature who fills your hole in the most enchanting way he could. Although sometimes he struggles with fitting his own time. Like right now, when you sit next to him in the car and he is fumbling on his phone with an unsettling frown on his face. You knew instantly that he was trapped in between something.

"What's wrong honey?" You asked. He hisses before answering, "I forgot that I promised a client to meet today."

"Can't it be postponed until tomorrow?" "The client specifically said today so I don't think he's going to be here tomorrow, what do we do? This case is big, and if I win it, I can give the firm a new recognition and it will be a good start for the firm."

Yoongi chewed his lips. You fished out your phone to call the printing company and tell them that you can't take the printed invitation cards today. The smile on Yoongi's face was indescribable. Although it was brief, you could feel the sincerity.

"What's the case about?" You watched him as he drives. His cream coloured turtle neck covers up until underneath his jaw and his black long coat made his eyes look striking brown. He's breathtakingly beautiful, this lawyer who stole your heart.

"...It's a homicide." He flipped the cars' blinkers to the right and turned the wheel with the heels of his palm, while grumbling low, trying to remember the details of the case.

"My client pleads not guilty to a murder of a man in cement tank...remember that body that came in the news? When you stayed over at my place?"

You blinked a few times, trying to remember.

That night? You had spicy rice cakes and Yoongi's kimchi fried rice. It was extra delicious and he allowed you to stay overnight when he was preparing an argument draft in his legal pad, watching Law & Order Season 8. When he took a phone call and walked to his study room, he left a file open on the dining table. Your fingers were curious about it and so you took time to read what's written on the reports. There were several pictures of gang tattoos and one very disturbing picture of a dead body, found in a hardened cement. And just then, the midnight news covered the story. Your eyes darted to the large screen and you stepped away from the table to watch. Yoongi joined you after a bit.

"A body of a man found in the hardened cement tank a few days ago had been confirmed to be a twenty-two year old young men name, Park Jihoon, who was a Seoul University's dropout. Park was an Advanced Chemistry student who obtained a scholarship from the nation's education bank due to his impressive scores in the last exam held by the International Chemistry Olympiad, it brought pride to the nation."

Your hand dropped to Yoongi's knees as he sat next to you on the couch. "Park's death had been ruled as homicide and investigations are still ongoing. In other news..."

The value of a human is ridiculed nowadays. The strong feeds on the poor down to their dying days. You remembered, feeling repulsive on the thought. Who would want to kill such an aspiring child? He was going to be someone important.

"Yes I remembered that." Yoongi tutted his tongue at your response.

"My client is the one who was accused of killing the boy. He's a gangster." Your eyes bored into Yoongi's unaffected side profile.

Although there was a tinge of guilt in the way his eyes flickered, you knew he wasn't telling you a hundred percent. Yoongi isn't the kind to hide things from you.

"So you're defending this client." Your voice died.

Yoongi puckered his lower lips over the top one and stuck his eyes on the view ahead, "Innocent until proven guilty, remember? If I win this case, my firm will soar."

Blinking away, you stared at the trees on the side of the streets. Things always look different from a moving car. Perceptions. What people choose to see and what is the real truth, Yoongi's job often put him in between good and evil. They say, lawyers have one feet in hell, the other in heaven. And it seemed that he understood your silence.

"I know what you're thinking. But beggars can't be choosers. My clients pay me. And it isn't always about the money, I know. There's always two sides of the story. This case is important to me as how important it is to my firm..." Yoongi persuaded you with his soft tone.

"Ilsan Brotherhood," you shot and Yoongi intercepted, "How did you know?"

You stared at the pavements where people were walking on.

"I read about it, in one of my father's files. They are not to be toyed around with, Yoongi. They are out for blood and most of the time, they will come home with one."

You warned him. "Whatever you have against them, it will not change my mind about taking this case, I'm sure my client is innocent. You haven't heard his side of the story." Yoongi is stubborn. He lets the idea of how winning this case will bring him pride and joy when you feared for his life.

Ilsan Brotherhood was not a stranger to you. They are the most active syndicate since the 2000s up until now. Even your little brother have heard of it.

"Can I come with you?" You unfastened your seatbelt. "Stay in the car." Yoongi shot.

He shut the car door that is parked by the large road, opposed to a bathhouse. You know this bathhouse, it has a Japanese restaurant link to it. Maybe you can't go in the bathhouse, but you can see that the restaurant’s bathroom is connected.. You exited the car and followed after Yoongi's footsteps but instead of entering the bathhouse where he is, you walked into the Japanese restaurant.

"A table for one, in a private room please?" You smiled. And she directed you to the room. They only have a wall made out of bamboo sticks and after the waitress left, you sneaked out of that room and sneak your way through the bathhouse. Until you heard Yoongi's voice coming from the end of the hallway.

"Fuck, he's in the restaurant..." You cursed in your head and scrambled to enter another private room that was thankfully empty but strangely had the lights on.

"...Meticulous, but we can find another loophole in the matter if we look close enough to the witness account," Yoongi commented and is walking in the room where you were.

"So this is the private room of the restaurant that conveniently is connected to the bathhouse?" Yoongi asked and you panic because you hear his footsteps coming nearer and nearer to the sliding door. That's when you crawled into an empty cupboard that was there, fit yourself in the lowest compartment and folded your legs in as small as you can be, leaving a tiny gap open, just large enough for your eyes to see and listen.

"Yoongi is going to kill me..." you thought to yourself but you were honestly not scared. 

You only feared getting caught. 

Yoongi folded his legs underneath and that's when the Japanese sliding door opened to reveal a tattooed young man with the clear words in big blocks of Old English font: Sinner; on his back. You held your breath and widened your eyes. This man, gangster, who was putting on his Japanese robe, had striking blonde hair and undercut on the sides. His brows strong and purposeful in one glimpse, charismatic in another. You knew that this man was a leader with many loyal followers.

Yoongi was incredibly relaxed and you could tell that it was not his first time meeting this man. He was also cautious enough not to let you know.

"I'm sorry I almost forgot about today," Yoongi started to explain himself and next to Yoongi was another men with long earrings, chirpy and far too smiley to be in a gang, but he oozes an aura of loyalty. It's really difficult to see who else was there but you held on to listen more.

"The boss had been enduring several sleepless nights because he had been getting some unwanted calls from the authorities and wondering if there's anyway you could, pardon the harshness of my words, shut them up..." The young man had a high-pitched voice.

"I know, I've been pulling some strings as well, but it will take time. I want to talk to Namjoon...Jimin, alone." Yoongi dropped his gaze on the table and Namjoon eyed Jimin to leave. 

"...I will have to know what happened that night Namjoon," Yoongi explained, "I can't help you if you don't tell me a hundred percent."

Namjoon was visibly obedient by the request. He nodded twice and inhale then exhale, "I will give you all the information needed. I'm not exactly a clean slate to begin with," His voice was an octave lower than Yoongi's. More stories about to be unfold, once Namjoon fixed an appointment to meet Yoongi again, at a later and a more convenient time.

Yoongi excused himself and left Namjoon alone. You watched him sat there, hanging his head low before straightening up in his seat to nip another roll of sushi in his mouth. You were absolutely unafraid.

Yoongi returns to an empty car. He spun around to search for you. "Where the hell did she go?"

Pushing the sliding door open slowly, Namjoon froze in his seat, reaching for a blade underneath his cushion. He softens when he saw a drape of long hair falling on each side of your shoulder. Crawling on all four, you grunted out of your hiding place. And Namjoon began to chew slowly as if it didn't bother him.

"Didn't think I'd meet you this way," he grumbled.

"How much do I need to pay you to not bother Yoongi?" You spat.

And Namjoon answered that with a low chuckle. "...you think you can afford me?" He smiled to his food.

"I'm not playing Namjoon. He's not one of you." You warned, standing up.

"Because he graduates from law school and is from a good family? Congratulations," he was bemused by it.

You rolled your eyes to the side. Namjoon shoved another sheet of dried laver into his mouth. Unaffected by your childish play, he stares back at you like an audience to a performer. He was rather enjoying this.

"You didn't see me here today," you warned him, feet halfway out of the room when you heard Namjoon say, "No reunion kiss?"

Growling inwardly, you left the room undetected at came out of the Japanese Restaurant.

"Where were you?" Yoongi asked from a distance.

"I went to the bathroom, I was about to pee in my pants!" You jogged to him, crossing the empty street. "Hurry, we can still catch up if we go right now. The printing shop is still open."

You sat in the car while Yoongi settled the bills in the printing shop. Your phone dings a message from an unknown number. It said only one thing,

"Pandora, @ 1am."

Of course he'll have your number. Namjoon is capable of anything, including murder. 

The faceless and nameless man is Kim Namjoon. Watching Yoongi walked back into the car with two bags full of printed invitations card, you felt your heart tug. 

You were certain that this meeting needed to be done so he knows where you stand. You have a life now, and you're determined to keep it. That's why you're here in Pandora at 1 AM as instructed.

Namjoon stood by the handrails, overlooking the night sky, in a grey tuxedo and black dress shirt that compliments his blonde hairdo. His long arm stretch along one side while the other is holding a glass. Musky scent filled the open air on the verandah, in contrast of the hyped clubbing floor just underneath. The smell of cigarettes was still lingering around your nose making you appreciate Namjoon's cologne. Hearing the sound of your sneakers on the wooden surface of the veranda, Namjoon tipped his head up to the night sky, downing a glass of bourbon in his hand.

"Cancer sky's out here tonight to mock me, despicable stars," he rolled his head around, still giving you his back, "Funny how I almost thought you wouldn't come," he added a dry chuckle.

"I came to tell you that it's finally over," you sounded determined. Namjoon hung his head low then throw his head back, in a manner that a broken man should behave.

"He's treating you well?" he paused, smiling at the sky and biting his lips, "...With his expensive Rolex and Gucci ties, his Rolls Royce and wit? You like how he treats you?" He tries to edge you, he turns around to face you, leaning his back to the rails and watch the drink in his swirl with a tut of his tongue, his lips parted a little.

His elbow is on the handrail, as he took another sip, "You've always liked men in high places. Always falling for a fool with great brains," he said in a mocking tone. You marched straight at him and gritting your teeth while he fixes his stance, you growled, "...At least I was not starving."

His personal space was invaded and it was nothing foreign to him, "...I'll give him credit for that." He cocked his eyebrow, gliding his eyes away from you, challenging.

"It's always been about the money isn't it?" You heard him say, pulling his gaze back to you and you stepped back when he took a step forward, downing another painful gulp of strong alcohol into his throat. But the burns he felt in his systems is not as horrific as the wounds you left on him.

You spun around, throwing your hands in your hair before you turn to him and shove him back once, twice.

"I fucking loved you Namjoon. Very much," you growled in his face and stepped away, facing away from him.

"Yeah, but not enough to stay..." Namjoon taunted you while he tailed you.

You faced him one more time. Tears brimming, glassy eyes and pained.

"I would have died for you..." you choked, and, "...I would have fucking died for you."

You pushed banged his chest with your fist and gradually, you weakened as the tears spills.

"You know what we had, it was real..." your lips quivered, your eyes pleading at him to understand.

But his gaze remains hard and unaffected. Those eyes used to be so soft on you. Those hands only held yours and those arms were your home. Those lips belong to you and they say all the things you want to hear. Those intense gaze was yours to take.

Namjoon was yours, all yours.

In a small apartment in the outskirts of town, not more than five years ago, with broken windows and one bedroom, you were so in love. It was your little paradise where Namjoon is a troubled boy everyone stayed away from. Who gave you a peek of his sentimental side and made you fall for his dimpled smile, Namjoon was stained soul with untainted heart. But his appearance made people stay away from him. He couldn't find a job because people don't want to employ a young adult with a mistake he made in his teens. You were his only support system. With no job that pays enough, you were the one sacrificing your time to work in two places. You tutored in the day and worked in a convenience store at night. He walked you to work and back. And even when he smiles, you know he was upset.

"What's wrong baby?" You asked, curling your arm around his waist as you walked. Some people passes you by.

He dropped his gaze to the floor, "...I know what impressions I gave out. I see them giving me 'the eye'. I know I'm a piece of trash, they don't need to be loud about it. The car wash center fired me today, and no pay..." He chuckled dryly and you stopped in your tracks.

Namjoon continued walking but halted after a bit, turning his side at you.

"Come on, I want to be home," he waved his hand, coaxing you to come to him, "The rent is due this week and I have no idea how to pay that," he mumbled.

You put money into an envelope and slid them in the drawer when Namjoon showered. You were prepared. You always put money aside in case shit happened. He slid into the single bed with you, smelling like soap. The bed is so small, your legs overlapped his just to give him more space. Laying on top of him will provide both of you enough space to wriggle about, so it has been a common practice. You lay your head next to his chest where you could hear his heartbeat while his hand will find their way on the small of your back, rubbing them in meaningless circle, thumbing your flesh to soothe you. His touches are always entrancing, gentle and tender. Unlike anything his tattoos represent. He called your name when you're half awake, in whispers, and,

"Do you ever feel like leaving me?" He asked in a small gritty voice, "...you can have a better life without me, you know..." He blinked at the ceiling and inhaled.

That's when you gaze up to him in a newfound consciousness and gave him a peck on the lips, "...Don't say things like that, you know I would never survive a day without you."

He switches on his side and make you lay on your side as well. You lay face to face, while his arm draped lazily over your thin waist. Nose clashing with each other as he sighed,

"I only want what's best for you. I cannot promise you things I want to give you. I want to give you so much...I don't deserve you," his eyes were frightened so they glided away from you.

You look at him with certainty and affections, "...Hey, look at me."

They trail up to you, slowly, almost hesitantly, "...You will find another job. And they'll pay better. And don't worry about the rent, I got you," You patted his chest gently, twice, and an assured smile. He thumbed your chin and then let his thumb ran along the length of your lower lip. His eyes were fixated on it and slowly, he placed them in between his very own, and began to suckle them softly.

"What are we doing baby?" You sighed when he dove his face in your neck, and you feel his lips on that small patch of skin that's known to drive you over the edge without him doing much.

"...The only way I know now that will make you instantly happy," he grazed his teeth on that same spot, pulling you closer than you already are, his voice already throwing your conscience out the window. You don't have to tell him where to caress. Namjoon knows every little spot that would make you weak, like it was in the back of his hand. Guaranteed to make you a writhing mess underneath him.

Making love in small tight places. The fact that you can't make noises makes it even better and rewarding.

When it's good, it’s going great.

But desperation could drive any sane man to become what he's not. Namjoon was going to make money, and he didn't care how.

He didn't like to see you working two jobs and the household is doing things the other way around. You were earning money and raising him. It scarred his pride. So he resorted to the one place you told him not to go, the club. He was quickly and most frequently booked by many wealthy females.

Most of them were lonely widows and secret mistresses of powerful men, who paid Namjoon a remarkable amount of money for his time and a little fun. All the while he was beginning to create his rapport, he had money stacked in one bank account. No longer were you starving to pay the rent and even though he sometimes disappeared into thin air when you search for him, being able to afford things was becoming more important than the reason behind his frequent absence. He was extremely generous in bed and he got better with his words and brought himself with more confidence than before, it was a very good change.

He brought you out of that shitty apartment to a better one.

You have more space but you felt him drifting away. And you don’t know why. 

Walking home from work, alone is your everyday now. Namjoon traded his casuals to tuxedos and sandals to leather shoes. He began to bring home many colognes and tell you that it was a gift from the marketing team. One night you found a pink vibrant G-string in his black pants, while doing the laundry. Unable to wait for him to leave the tub, you stormed into the bathroom and threw them in his face. Disappointment. Betrayal.

Namjoon grabbed his robe and went after you, chanting, "Baby, I can explain! Its yours. I got it for you..." A stinging slap went across his face.

"You think I didn't know..." you tipped your head to one side, quizzically, grumbling back at him with glassy eyes, "I know you're fucking around with the widows in this city Namjoon. And wealthy women, you like money that much that you sold your dignity?" You cocked your head to one side, your voice clipped. You grabbed his wallet and took out all the cards he had.

"Thank you for tonight. I had a lot of fun after a long time." "Namjoon, I look forward to our next meeting." "I'm all yours Mr. Kim."

You scoffed. "You create quite a stir now ha... tattooed good-looking man with incredible proportions, you loved the attention? How dare you come home and kiss me with those filthy lips of yours."

"You wanted money. We wanted money." "Gained the right way!" You raised your voice at him. "Well the right way is taking too long!" And he roared just as loud.

You turned away from him, "...Unbelievable."

Namjoon shook his head, pinching his temples between two hands, "...Let's talk about it in the morning," he reaches for your arm and you yanked them away at once.

"Get your hands off of me," You grumbled. He clenched his jaws.

You grabbed your jacket and put on your jeans while he sat on the edge of the bed, covering his face and exhaling.

"Where are you going...it's 3AM," He sighed, "You're giving me a hard time right now. I did what I needed to do," he watched you shove some clothes in a backpack.

You added a chuckle, "My ass. If I was selling myself, we would make more than you ever did."

Zipping them up angrily, "Have fun fucking girls while I'm gone. I'm never coming back. You can give them my clothes," You yanked the door open and stormed out.

“I gave you everything you wanted… a better house, pretty clothes, good food, how dare you do this to me…” he growled, holding the door shut as you struggle to leave.

“That was what you wanted!” you roared in his face, and he visibly froze. You softened,

“I only wanted you,” your voice cracked, brittle and hushed.

It was obvious that he didn’t want the same thing. He was blinded by wealth. And he got comfortable standing on the middle ground at the cost of his soul.

Namjoon's performance dwindled down. He began losing clients, one by one. And although he had more than enough to maintain his lifestyle, he can never fill the hole you left. You cut too deep and he didn't intend to have your replacement anytime soon. His heart was a fool for you and only you.

You were gone for weeks. Jumping to one bathhouse to another with some money you saved from having two jobs. Namjoon knew where you worked so you decided to leave that job and find another. You took wages in doing small sewing jobs just to keep up with yourself. And one night, your free-lance job brought you back to Namjoon's place. You wondered from outside his windows why it's still on. Sitting at the curb to watch some more, you had clothes barely enough to keep you warm, gazing up at the level of his apartment. His extravagant penthouse.

"...Are you sleeping well without me?" You whispered to him as if he was there next to you. You fold your arms and rested them on your knees before laying your head on top of it. I’m not sleeping at all, you whispered in your heart.

Namjoon on your side of the bed. His eyes were unforgiving and he didn't allow himself to sleep since you left. He was going insane on his own that he began to speak to you as if you're in the same room.

"I left the door unlocked, and there's keys under the mat," he said. He sets two plates on the table when he eats while even without you. Bought your favourite chocolate bars that you two used to share. He sat in the walk-in wardrobe and took one of your clothes before sniffing them, inhaling your scent because he misses you so much he could barely think.

"Please come back... please." He prayed. It's just not the same without you.

You remember it all. How he stood by the lamp post with his flyers promoting jobs in his worn out shoes and foolish smile to every stranger that passes him by. Those flyers get stepped on, thrown away and torn. You remember how you gave up half of your instant noodles, so he could have more. Money pinching life, but the happiest you had ever been in your entire existence. It didn’t matter if it was raining and he’s drenched, giving out flyers, it didn’t matter if your back is sore from washing dishes in a nearby diner and finger calloused from days on end using detergents, it didn’t matter that it was a hard life to live because Namjoon was there to help you go on. You had Namjoon, 

and that was enough.

Just weeks to spare until the wedding. Invitation cards stack on the corner of your shared room. You shouldn’t be thinking about another man in the bed you shared with your fiance. You shouldn’t be thinking about his smile, or his laugh, or the way he looked at you. You shouldn’t be able to word every touch and every moment you spent with him. You shouldn’t be able to make of the shape of his face, the sound of his voice when he is angry, when he is happy or when he is sad, or remember with utmost precision where all his birthmarks are and you shouldn’t have remembered where your favorite one is, the one that’s on his upper right thigh. You shouldn’t be able to point the scars on his right knee and how long it was. You remembered him details. You remembered Namjoon in details. And it’s a wretched thing to do for a bride-to-be.

Tears streamed across your nose bridge, as you lay on the side, boring into the view of an opaque translucent curtain, moving softly. You wipe the tears harshly, with the back of your hand, along with the thoughts of Namjoon and that’s when you hear Yoongi coming in.

“Why are you’re up so late?” he crawled into bed, holding the blankets up, simultaneously, pressing his lips on your shoulder, draping his arm around your waist, inhaling your scent. Thunder crackling in the black sky, flickering lightning behind thick puffs of clouds, and then,

The rain pours. Just like that night.

Dusk until dawn, you promised me. 

Not even the rain could stop you two from wanting to dance in the streets. Your skin is wet from sweat and it washed down from the heavy rain. Big smiles on both of your faces, he twirls you around and you go on your tippy toes feeling absolutely safe even when the lightning strikes. Sharing one cup of noodles in the convenient store because that was all you could afford to not go starving for the night. You sewing up his only dress shirt’s button on while he stares down fondly at you, holding up the flashing lights because the room you both rented had the electricity cut off from outstanding bills. You both had nothing, and yet, everything.

You promised that I won’t be alone, and when things go wrong, you’d still be here. You promised. You lied.

You were a fool in love. You gave up your family for that boy. And where else could you have gone, if not back to your family? They built you up from scrap, had you meet the man you’re with today. The wind strikes your face the same way it did with Namjoon, but with feigned calamity. A false security and deceitful smile. Are you convincing yourself that you’re okay with the man you’ve promised to marry? Or are you deceiving yourself into believing that he was right to marry? Especially when you saw his greed to defend someone in the wrong? Just for the sake of his firm?

An unfinished business. A lingering string of thoughts. It buzzes through Namjoon’s mind as he sat in his leather chair, swirling his glass of wine. Scents of Mahogany strikes up his nostril, drilling through his thoughts at the possibility of jail time should he be proven guilty. The boy. Right, the college Chemistry boy.

He threatens the market. It was the only market that feeds Namjoon of his lavish expenses,his uncontrollable urge to possess everything he only dreamt of.

“It was the words that came out of that boy that made me feel he shouldn’t be alive,” Namjoon arched an eyebrow and Yoongi visibly stiffened. Tactless, and merciless--was the way he said it. Namjoon really did sell his soul to the devil. And he proceed to gorily describe how he killed the boy.

“He regurgitates, sputtering blood all over the cord I wrapped around his Adam’s apple, and I dragged his pulsating body through the dirt and put his face into the liquid cement that hasn’t dried. Then I put his entire body inside…” Namjoon’s dark gaze lifts up to meet Yoongi’s and he did the unthinkable,

He smiled.

Without remorse.

“D’you know what he said?” Namjoon rests his elbows on the edge of the table, “Called me a beggar. The nerve of that boy.” He chuckled. But Yoongi didn’t join.

Namjoon downed a mouthful of wine and left his chair. Army of loyal followers waiting for him outside. The police are at the door, with handcuffs. They have him remanded until trials began. Will he remains his stance as not guilty? It is hardly so, now that Yoongi had known the truth. The prosecution's will soon find out what other crimes he did. And he will be in jail for good. While he got remanded, he received a visitor.

“Does your fiance know, you’re here?” he asked, with that boyish grin you were familiar with.

“He won’t, if you don’t tell,” you snapped.

You took one long look to his figure, his face, the features that stood out, the tattoos that boldly peek through his neck hole and syncopate on his skin, his forearms and knuckles.

“Do they make you stronger? Those drawings on your skin?” you asked, through your lashes and your eyes tips up to meet his.

“The pain that comes while I’m getting them, does. It made me feel something after you were gone,” he shrugs his shoulders, sitting slouched in his chair.

“I’m getting married, Namjoon,” not wishing to beat around the bush anymore, you shot, “I’m really getting married…”

Namjoon jutted his chin out, hollowed his cheeks and somberly nodded. His gaze cast down to his lap, “I know…I’ll be in jail.”

You don’t love him, you pitied him. At least, that’s what you told yourself, forcing your eyes stay open and it stings, till tears fall to your cheek.

“Don’t cry,” he whispered, even though he wasn’t even looking at you, he knew, and, “You should be happy, Yoongi’s a great person. You’ll be very happy. Even within this thick walls, I still make you cry…”

“Don’t tell me what to do…” you grumbled. Wiping your tears with the back of your hand, you grab your purse and took out a bank account book he had shipped to your home address, “I can’t accept this.”

Along with the handwritten letters that came with it.

The chair scratched against the concrete floor, and Namjoon stared at the bank account book while you exited the room. His lips hung open and he blew hot air to his forehead as the door slammed shut behind you.

The crowds begin to cheer as you walk into the aisle, hand-in-hand with your father. He had a vibrant smile on, to match your subtle ones. And at the end of the aisle was Min Yoongi, your soon-to-be husband. And with every step approaching him, you leave Namjoon and his words behind.

This bank account I started when we rented a room in that run-down apartment.

Veils covered your face. Forward.

I made a vow that I’ll give them to you once the money inside is enough for a decent wedding.

Heart thumps. You tighten your grip around your father’s arm. Forward.

Of many promises that went unfulfilled,

Your knees feel loose but you held on. Forward. Forward.

At least I could fulfill these.

One last row and Yoongi is within reach. Forward.

I wish you happiness, even without me.

Namjoon basks in the sun in his prison attire, by the monkey bars, pondering about the love he had once received, and now lost. 

The cost of a million dollar house is his soul, his future and his past.

.

.

.

.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Namjoon…” I instantly blurted out as we made eye contact and he looks at me and smiles. Wait did he forget what happened today? Should I remind him or should I just act like it never happened… Wait, am I stupid? Why would I possibly want to remind Namjoon I seen him completely naked…

“Wow haven’t seen you all day today. Feels like you’re trying to avoid me,” Namjoon blurts out as the two of us watched the elevator door close right in front of us and I awkwardly laughed.

Yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing.

“Ha… Me avoiding you? Why would I possibly do that?” I said trying my hardest to remain calm however that statement made me sound completely awkward and guilty. I glanced over at Namjoon and I could see him smile big and wide.

“Look, if you’re afraid that things were going to get awkward after this morning, you’re mistaking. Honestly, it’s not a big deal… I was just caught off guard that’s all.” Namjoon says completely calm and all I could do was stare at him.

Wait… Namjoon doesn’t care that I basically have seen every part of him?

“Ah… right…” I have no idea why I feel awkward about this situation… It’s not like I was the one to expose my body anyways… However, I guess I don’t do good with this type of situation…

“I get it,” I quickly lifted up my head and looked over at Namjoon.

“You get what?” What did Namjoon possibly get? I’m lost.

“Have you never seen a guy naked?” Namjoon suddenly asks and my eyes widen. Woah well that was extremely straightforward. I didn’t know how to answer this question so I had to think of a way to change the subject.

“So remember when I told you that I wasn’t planning to head to the party?” I said hoping Namjoon can just forget about what he asked and although he looked confused because that came out of nowhere, Namjoon went along with the conversation.

“Yeah what about it?” Namjoon asks looking at me and I looked at him and smiled.

“So… I guess I agreed… to go,” Namjoon instantly smiled and I couldn’t help but stare at his dimples and smile.

“Really! Wait… What made you change your mind?” Namjoon asks a bit confused and I was about to mention Jimin name however I know if I did Namjoon would probably say something about him liking me….

“Yoongi changed my mind,” it was the truth. Namjoon was about to speak but he suddenly stopped when the elevator doors opened and the both of us stepped out and began to walk to our apartment side by side.

“Wow, look at you, you already have two of my friends falling head over heels for you,” I wouldn’t say that Yoongi even liked me… I think after that whole incident Yoongi is just trying to be nice and there is nothing wrong with that.

I would rather be friends with Namjoon friends then have any of them even hate me especially because we are roommates...

“No, just because he’s being nice doesn’t mean he likes me. He barely knows me anyway,” I said looking at Namjoon and he just shrugs.

“I mean no guy would want you to go to the party unless they like you?” Wow, this boy really should watch what he says.

“So why did you invite me? Do you like me too?” I asked and Namjoon stopped walking and looked at me. I have no idea if I got him mad or something but it’s true. I don’t want him to assume that all of the boys like me because it’s not true.

“Fair enough,” Namjoon says smiling and the both of us continued to walk and at last reached our apartment.

~ To be honest after basically confirming that I was going to attend this party I have no idea what I’m supposed to wear. I mean it’s a party so I’m expecting a dress am I right? Or do I have to dress casual?

I wanted to ask Namjoon but honestly, if I asked him he would probably laugh at me and I don’t want that.

I opened up my closet and began to look at everything I owned but nothing looked good… I know I’m new to college but I should have tried to make friends… Instead, I have no friends I can ask for advice too. Just my luck…

“I don’t even want to go anymore,” I said speaking to myself sitting on my bed now feeling less motivated and completely scared of the idea of others possibly making fun of me.

I mean I was never the type to ever fit in… Never have and probably never will.

“Mina!” I hear my name being called, I got up from the bed and walked over to the door. The moment I opened the door I found Namjoon standing right there looking right at me.

“Hey, I was wondering if maybe… I can have this place to myself for a little… If you know what I mean?” Namjoon asks and at first, I was completely confused. I have no idea what Namjoon is trying to say… Why can’t I just s- OH!

“Right now?” I asked finally catching on and he quickly nods his head.

“Please?” I would say no but I did kick Namjoon out of the apartment on short notice so I have to respect this and do the same.

“You got it,” I said smiling and I walked over to my bed and grabbed my phone and keys. I have no idea where I’m going but clearly, I need to be out of here.

~

I didn’t mind leaving the apartment so Namjoon can do his thing… The only thing that does suck is that I don’t have any friends so what am I supposed to do for the time being?

Should I go for a walk?

I pulled out my phone and looked through my contacts. No one to call… At this very moment, it made me wish that I asked one of the boys for their numbers but nope clearly didn’t do that.

One by one I continued to walk minding my business till suddenly something felt weird. I’m by myself and I could feel someone behind me but it feels like they are following me...

Or maybe I’m paranoid. Yeah, that’s what it is. I kept walking trying to find something to do for the meantime but then I heard a noise behind me and it made me even more paranoid.

At that point, I was picking up my feet and I felt like I think I should run… Without hesitating I began to run. It felt like I was in a horror film... Was I going to die?!

“MINA!” The moment I heard my name I knew it was clearly someone I knew. I stopped myself from running and I looked back and see Taehyung running up to me. At last, when he caught up he looked at me and tried to catch his breath.

“Gesh, here you are making me do exercise just to have a conversation with you,” I couldn’t help but to giggle but I couldn’t help but feel paranoid that it was someone trying to come and possibly kidnap me. “I’m sorry, I thought you were ready to kill me or something,” I said glancing over at Tae and he placed a hand over his chest and looked offended.

“Anyways where are you off to?” Taehyung asks looking at me as the both of us were casually strolling by the campus.

“To be honest I have no idea… I had to leave because Namjoon has a visitor if you know what I mean and… Yeah, let’s just say I was trying to be a good roommate and leave the apartment to himself,” I told Taehyung and he nodded his head.

“Well since you’re not busy, how about you join me to go to Jimin’s dorm,” Taehyung says moving his eyebrows up and down and although I was still getting to know these boys I decided why not.

“Sure,” I said smiling and from that point on Taehyung and I were now on our way to Jimin’s dorm. ~

As we stood in front of his door waiting for him to open up, for some odd reason I felt very nervous… I felt the palm of my hands beginning to sweat and I felt my heart race faster than it was two seconds of ago. On top of all of this, I even felt this unfamiliar feeling in my stomach…

I guess after everyone telling me Jimin possibly has a crush on me…. I’ve been feeling nervous around the boy.

Eventually, the door was open and instead of Jimin looking at Taehyung he looked right at me. It’s like he completely ignored Taehyung existence and honestly noticed mine.

“Hey what brings you here?” Jimin asks smiling looking over at me and I don’t think I was the only one who noticed how Jimin didn’t even bother looking over at Taehyung because seconds later you hear Taehyung making a comment.

“I’m fine thanks for asking,” Taehyung says and he walked into the dorm now leaving you there in front of the door alone with Jimin.

“Well… I happened to bump into Taehyung and he decided to invite me back here since I don’t really have anywhere to really go,” instead of Jimin asking me any more questions he opened the door wider and he smiled.

“Well it’s a pleasure to have you, come in,” it wasn’t long till I walked in and for some odd reason, I felt nervous. I mean I shouldn’t but just the thought of an attractive guy possibly being interesting in me is so hard to believe.

“Where’s Namjoon?” Jimin asks as he closed the door behind him and you looked at him.

“Well, he actually has a girl over… I don’t want to intrude so I decided to go out and let him have the apartment to himself,” in other words, I actually got told to leave by Namjoon but I’m not going to tell the boys that.

“Ah, you did the right thing,” Taehyung says and I couldn’t help but laugh.

~ After spending a couple of hours with the boys I looked at the time and realized it was getting late. It’s weird to say but I actually had a fun time with the boys… Especially with Jimin, however, I wasn’t going to admit that to anyone or they would be quick to think I like Jimin.

“I should probably head back to the apartment… I’m sure Namjoon must be done with his victim,” after saying that Taehyung suddenly burst out laughing.

“See at least I’m not the only one who thinks this way,” Taehyung says agreeing with me and I nodded my head.

“I know I don’t know Namjoon but the girl is either his girlfriend or he's going to be hooking up with a lot of girls.” I didn’t mean to make Namjoon sound like some type of womanizer however from what I do recall is when we both were making agreements he did mention about leaving the apartment when he is hooking up with a female… I mean why else would you enforce that rule.

“I mean Namjoon did mention that he wanted to have fun this year… No strings attached just pure fun,” Jimin says and I nodded my head.

Not that Namjoon is a bad guy but during the school year I know I need to be careful trying to get close with him… I don’t want any feelings involved and I definitely don’t want to get hurt at the very end…

“Well thank you, boys, for having me but I should probably head back,” I began to walk to the door and just as I was planning to leave Jimin quickly and awkwardly clears his throat and looks over my direction.

“Um… Can I walk you back to your apartment?”  Jimin asks nervously for some odd reason but of course instead of rejecting his offer I agreed.

“Aw look at the lovebird,” Taehyung commented. I looked at him and he sent a wink at my direction.

The comment didn’t bother just because I’m not offended by it… Jimin is incredibly good looking so why would I be offended hearing that both of us are going out… Right?

I said my goodbyes to Taehyung and after that Jimin and I were off and about. It was time to finally head back home. I’m just really hoping Namjoon is done with his business so I can be home and relax… I mean I understand a guy gotta do what a guy gotta do… But like can I be comfortable?

As we left Jimin’s dorm room we began to walk side by side in pure silence. I mean I know Jimin offered to walk me home but I wasn’t expecting this to suddenly get awkward. I mean the moment Jimin has met me he always tried to spark up a conversation but for some reason, the tension feels different.

“Ready to meet any boys at the party?” Jimin suddenly blurts out and I glanced at him and shrugged.

“I mean I’m not really looking for anyone but if the time is right and I meet someone who actually catches my attention then why not right?” It was an honest response especially because I can’t predict the future.

“I see,” I hate how Jimin is suddenly responding with such dull answers. I know he had a lot to say just from body language but I didn’t want to ask him because there is clearly a reason he’s not telling me a thing.

“What about you? Ready to meet some girls at the party?” I asked Jimin and he just simply smiles.

“Eh I mean I already met a girl I’m into, I just hope to spend time with her at the party,” Jimin says glancing over at me and although I have no idea who he’s referring to, I smiled as the both of us continued to walk. ~

At last, when I arrived back at the apartment I walked over to the door seeing nothing around it. Perfect it was now my chance to go in there and be comfortable! I turned around and looked over at Jimin.

“Thank you for walking me, you really didn’t have to,” not that I mind having the company but I didn’t want to make Jimin go through any trouble.

“Of course I did, you shouldn’t be walking alone around this time,” it was cute to see Jimin’s cute protective side… It’s rare for a guy to feel like that especially with a girl he just met.

I wasn’t the type to really make any type of human interactions but I couldn’t help myself in this situation. I got on my tippy toes and before I even knew it I kissed Jimin’s cheek.

He looked completely shocked at first but then a huge smile spread across his face.

“Goodnight Jimin,” I looked over at Jimin and he bowed before he walked off. At that moment I reached into my purse and it wasn’t long until I pulled out my keys and was finally back into the apartment.

I know I wasn’t gone for too long and I understand Namjoon needed to get get some but still, I had a couple of plans in mind but that all changed when I was asked to leave the apartment.

“I’m back,” I said as I removed the key from the door but I heard pure silence.

Did Namjoon leave or something? Or maybe he’s here naked somewhere… I swear lately I’ve been having the worse luck when it comes to seeing Namjoon….

The first time was when I saw Namjoon shirtless and that was the first time I was moving in… Then the second time was when I saw him completely naked, and I’m not saying I was disappointed but I shouldn’t be speaking about his naked body.

I continued to walk in and continued to look around. Maybe I’ll see Namjoon somewhere in sight, hopefully not naked tho or even his girl because now that will be a tragic scene if you ask me.

As I walked to my room I have no idea what I was thinking about but I was so lost in my thoughts. Everything was going by smoothly till…

“Mina!” I jumped and looked next to me finding Namjoon there smiling popping both dimples in each cheek.

“Namjoon! You jerk,” I blurted out hitting him over the shoulder and he just began to laugh.

I hate being scared, clearly, if you see me caught off guard please don’t try sneaking up out of nowhere.

“What did I do?” Instead of explaining myself I just walked past Namjoon and walked over to my room. Right now all I want to do is go to relax or even sleep.

As I walked over to my bed and was about to lie down till Namjoon followed me and sat on my bed.

“What did you do while you were gone?” Oh right, when you kicked me out. “Well I was planning to walk around but I actually bumped into Taehyung and went over to Jimin’s dorm,” the moment I happened to mention Jimin, Namjoon stared at me and smiled.

“Why do I have this strange feeling that Jimin and you are going to go out?” It doesn’t sound like an awful idea, however, I still have to get to know the guy. I mean I should be able to tell anyone anything about him but I barely know him.

It’s nice to see that others can see us going out but right about now I see otherwise.

“I mean it’s not entirely impossible however I like to take baby steps with these kinds of things,” Namjoon just shrugged.

“You could possibly just be saying that now but trust me it won’t be long until I see the both of you cuddling up and kissing,” Namjoon continues to insist that he will see Jimin and I becoming a couple and I sigh.

“Whatever you say, anyways ready for that party on Friday,” I said trying my hardest to change the subject and Namjoon smiles.

“Of course I am, I’m always ready to have a good time,” good time…. Right.

“With your girlfriend?” The moment I mentioned girlfriend I stared at Namjoon and noticed how he looked right at me confused.

“Did you just say, girlfriend?” Wait did I say something wrong? I mean I would assume the girl he just slept with must be his girlfriend unless...

“I don’t have a girlfriend, it was just a random hookup,” at that moment I realized my roommate is a complete fuckboy…

Why did I not see that coming? Namjoon is good looking, if he doesn’t have a girlfriend then there is a chance all he does are hookups. I mean I shouldn’t even be disappointed… Namjoon is nothing but my roommate and that’s all he is going to be.

“I see, so I’m assuming you’ll be finding a new victim to hook up with,” I said looking at Namjoon and he smiles.

“I wouldn’t say, victim, I mean I satisfy their needs,” without thinking I quickly covered Namjoon mouth and smiled.

“Okay, I think I heard enough for today,” Namjoon continued to smile and before I know it I looked down at my hands and realized my hands were on his lips….

I froze and just stared at Namjoon… His lips are really soft…

Without thinking twice I quickly pulled away and looked away.

“I uh better get ready for bed,” I swear that was weird… I never had an experience like that with Namjoon…

I need to pull myself together… We are just roommates... That’s all….

It will stay that way…

I promise….

Suddenly, he was on the ground, on one knee, holding a little box open, a ring made on gold sitting inside. Atop it, where you'd expect a diamond placed, was simply the continuation of the shank itself, looped into a square knot.

"This symbolises infinity." Namjoon started. "Infinite love, infinite devotion, infinite us. It is a promise for a future together. Everytime someone tries to pull us apart, the knot will only grow stronger, bringing us closer. So, my love, will you marry me?"

You looked down at him, your jaw feeling like it would graze the ground any second. You didn't know what to say, you were still too shocked.

Namjoon took the silence as rejection at the simplicity of the ring. "I knew that you didn't like fancy gems or big rings, so after months of consideration, I thought this would be a good idea. We can change it immediately, if you want. You know I could afford any ring you chose. That would not be a problem. We cou-" he was cut off as you attacked him with a hug. He was taken aback at first, but soon slowly slid his own arms around your waist.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, a million times yes, I will marry you!" You replied as he stood up, your arms still around him. "And no, we are not changing that ring."

Namjoon smiled at your positive reaction. He was a man good with words but even he had none to express exactly how ecstatic he felt at that moment.

"Well, my fiancé," you started as he slid the ring on your finger, fitting perfectly. "Do you always carry a ring around with you, or is this just a special occasion?"

"Actually, dearest fiancée," you put your arms around his neck as he held your hips to pull you closer. "I just got it resized earlier to fit your finger, specifically. So no, I do not always carry it around. I was hoping to give it to you on an even more special occasion, but that didn't go so well."

"I know this might be rude, but, can we get out of here? Please? Without having to tell many people? Because I don't want to explain why I'm glowing brighter than the bride herself." You asked, desperate to spend some time alone to celebrate your new engagement.

Fast forward to a year later, you were now having your first kiss as a married couple with your newlywed husband. You were now Mrs. Kim, and you couldn't believe it.

Breaking apart, you stared deep into the eyes of the man you loved so much, still unable to believe that this amazing man, him right here, was all yours for the rest of your lives. You were so lost in those eyes, you almost missed Jin's next words from behind Namjoon.

"Yah, Kim Namjoon, I think you broke your wife."