14

"She wants to m-meet my family?" You choked out, accidentally dropping your utensils against the counter as it makes a clattering noise.

You both jump in unison, and Namjoon looks over at you with his brows drawn together. "What's the matter?"

You gulped, unable to think rationally. What the hell were you supposed to say? That you had doubts about the idea of your family meeting his? Of course, you weren't going to tell him the reason why you were opposed to this.

"And I take it you're not quite happy with the idea," He comments, sounding a bit dejected with your reaction. He didn't expect your reaction to being like this - he at least thought you'd be happy with the idea.

"I, uh...that's not it, sir," you swallow awkwardly, not wanting to ruin his mood so early in the morning. "But, may I ask why?"

He raises his brows, confused as to why you were making a big deal out of this. It was just a simple question. "Because it's her birthday?"

"—But I've always attended her birthday every year without my family." You don't understand why they suddenly want to meet your family now.

Namjoon drops his fork down and turns his stool to face you entirely. "Hmm, do you not want to?"

"No, no it's not that," you grimaced. "It's just..."

"Just what?"

"Don't you think it's a bit odd?"

'Odd? Where did this come from?' Namjoon wondered to himself.

"No, I don't Y/N," Namjoon sighed. "It's not odd at all. Mom just wants to finally meet your family. And... I do too," he whispered, raking his hair back.

Your heart sinks at that. You were aware of your family's opinion on your boss - like they weren't a fan of Namjoon when he was brought up during conversations.

Of course, these weren't valid reasons to dislike your boss, but seeing him in the media changed their perception of him as cold, heartless, and a self-centered, stuck-up human being that only cared about himself. And that was far from the truth.

But maybe this was a chance for them to see Namjoon as he is with you. Get to know him in the same way you've gotten to know him over the years - without judgment - and that he was nothing like how the tabloids and headlines made him out to be.

The cogs in your head start to rotate. Your heart slowly warms, your brown eyes and the hard exterior of your expression slowly soften with realization as you look up at his almond-shaped eyes. The sharp edge of his eyelids curve downward as if he was regretting the question, but he hides his emotions well.

However, before your mind could catch up with your body, your fingertips were already making their way under his chin. It was hauntingly beautiful and carefree, it terrified you.

You don't realize what you've done until he meets your gaze with his hopeful ones, and you know your abrupt action caught both of you by surprise. Your eyes stay on each other even as you weave through the multiple voices in your head telling you to retreat.

This isn't appropriate.

You've never initiated such intimacy before, and the moment you do, the same line you've both been afraid to cross doesn't seem too scary anymore.

"Y/N," his breath hitches in his throat when he pronounces your name with such gentleness as if he was afraid the moment would soon come to an end if he said something that could ruin it.

Weirdly enough, your fingers are still where they are, cupping his freshly-shaved jawline, allowing you to feel the movement of his syllables.

"If the idea makes you uncomfortable, you don't have to do it," Namjoon offers you a reassuring smile, not wanting to force you to do something you aren't comfortable doing. "I'll just explain to my mom, okay?"

You shake your head. Namjoon brings his hand against yours, and your attention is automatically brought down to it before it stays on his plump lips. A lump forms in your throat, and you quickly retract your hand, dropping them to your sides, and away from his warm ones.

You clear your throat, ignoring the uncomfortable sensation between your thighs caused by his touch. "No it's fine," you say, gulping a glass of cold water to calm yourself. The least you could do was seem disrespectful towards his family.

What could go wrong? Just one day, and you'll be out of their hair.

"I'll give my parents a call."

He searches your eyes, masking the smile threatening to grace his lips. "Are you sure?"

You nod your head shyly, shifting your gaze back to your meal. "Mhm, thank you for the breakfast," you mumbled quietly. "It's tasty."

You really know how to make him satisfied with your words alone, and he swears he can feel his heart wanting to lunge against his chest to embrace you in a hug as he glances down at you quietly munching on freshly cut fruits.

"You flatter me too much." What he meant was that, it felt really good to hear you say those words.

You raise your brows at him. "Is that a bad thing?"

"Nope," Namjoon shook his head, beaming at you. He can feel his heart swell with this simple interaction. "Keep it up, and maybe I'll commit to making you breakfast every day." He whispers the last words to himself, as if he was too shy to voice it out loud.

He's so close you wish you could hate yourself for how quickly your lingering gaze hypnotizes his lips. "That would be every woman's dream," you blurt out mindlessly, and when he realizes your words, his grin deepens.

"Is that your dream?" He quips, resting his elbow on the cold surface to focus on you, growing confident by your words. You grow self-conscious, unable to eat properly with him eyeing your every movement.

This was the worst time to skip your makeup routine, you think - not for him, but just for yourself to feel better with the proximity. He can probably see your pores and the dull complexion around your eyes.

Namjoon notices your silence, taking it as a sign that you were trying to ignore his previous comment. "Are you ignoring me?"

You press your lips together, reaching for a cloth to clean the side of your lips. "Me? Of course not, sir."

"Stop calling me that," he let out, suddenly getting serious. "I don't like it."

"But it's what I've been calling you for ten y-"

"Exactly. We've known each other for more than ten years, so it's better if we drop the formalities, yeah?"

"Sir—"

"Namjoon," he corrects you. "It's Namjoon to you from now on."

"But—"

"No buts. Or else I won't be able to let you go."

"Okay, Namjoon." You uttered, ignoring the fluttering of your heart at the way his name rolls off your tongue smoothly.

✧ ✦ ✧6:00 pm

"Noona?" The voice of your younger brother echoes from the other side of the line. You let out a sigh of relief as you rest your head on your office chair.

You just finished briefing Hana on her new tasks. She was a fast learner -given the excellent work she's done from her previous job - you didn't have to explain to her every little detail when she already memorized most of the things written on the documents you gave her.

She was rather more concerned with handling Namjoon's personal obligations; like remembering family members' birthdays, and business partners, that she needed to study in case she was put in a situation where she had to be the one to take important business meetings.

Now, it was roughly six when you decided to phone your family members about the news - ending with your brother, who you thought would be much more difficult to convince.

"Hey, Sunho. How's it going?"

"What do you mean 'how's it going?'" he sounds suspicious of your unusual tone. "You never say that, noona. There must be something you need from me, am I right?" And there he goes, the same little brother you've always known. He can already tell by your choice of words, your tone, and the pattern in your breathing when you talk.

It's anything but weird when you are both practically the opposite version of each other. Except in terms of appearance, because you thought you were more attractive with your dark, brunette hair and his light-colored one.

"That's a bit rude, after all I've done for you," you dramatically say as if his words hurt you. "Can't I check up on my precious little brother?"

"Precious?" He almost burst out in laughter. "Yeah, noona, you're really proving my point," he mutters. "So go ahead, spill it out before I hang up on you."

"You brat," you hissed, making sure to look around the almost empty floor with some employees still finishing up their work before they clock out for the day. "I don't pay for your tuition just to treat me like this, uh?"

"Alright, whatever." He replied flatly, causing you to get to the point before he really ends the call.

"I..." you feel nervous all of a sudden, knowing your brother's opinion about Namjoon. "So...basically..."

"Why are you stuttering?" He interrupts. "Have you committed a crime or something?"

"What? Of course not, you idiot!" You can't help but shake your head at his stupidity.

"Then what is it?"

You sigh nervously and bite your lips before blurting out, "My boss' family wants us to come to his mother's birthday party."

There is a long awkward silence until you hear Sunho erupt in laughter. "What? Did I just hear correctly?"

You roll your eyes at his childishness. "Sunho, I'm serious," you huff out. "I was calling to let you know that the party is tomorrow evening. I need you guys to come down to Seoul."

"'Noona, you can't expect us to just show up. Mom and dad probably won't c—"

"I've already called them. They will arrive tomorrow morning."

"What? You can't be serious!" he exclaims his frustration about the idea. "I don't have to be there. You already know how I feel about your boss—"

"Park Sunho," you cut him off once he mentions him. You let out a disappointed sigh, rubbing the side of your face in clear distress. "I know you're not the biggest fan of my boss, but I don't want to hear you badmouthing him—" just as you were about to finish your sentence, the sound of someone clearing their throat takes you by surprise.

"Y/N?" Namjoon emerges from his office, leaning against the frame of your cubicle with his coat in his hand, leaving him in a black turtle neck, securely tucked in matching slacks, and dress shoes. You can't take your eyes off his exposed arms until he tilts his head in question. "Who are you talking to?"

"No one, sir." You quickly stood from the comfort of your chair. The nerves you're starting to feel causes you to forget to address him using his name, though he doesn't comment on it. "Did you need anything?"

"No, I was just leaving," he said with a monotone voice. "Why are you still here? I thought you left early with Miss Kang," he refers to Hana who had already clocked out a few minutes ago.

"Uh, no. I was just finishing up something."

"Oh, is that right?" He inquires, his voice low. You nod your head in response. "Sorry if I disturbed you. I'll get going now," he mumbles, and you are quick to catch the slight frown on his face as he turns his back to you.

You press your phone back to your ear, ignoring the comments Sunho is making at the sound of your boss.

"Was that him?" he asks rather annoyingly. "What did he want from you? Don't tell me he's overworked-"

"Shut it, Sunho," you cut him off, pinching the bridge of your nose as your eyes follow where Namjoon just disappeared.

"Noona—"

"I'll see you guys tomorrow, alright?" You say before hurriedly ending the call and grabbing your stuff from your desk.

You sprint towards the elevator, hoping to catch Namjoon, and just as you were about to reach it, the elevator doors finally shut. "No, wait—"

The last thing you see is Namjoon leaning against the wall, and his eyes meeting your desperate ones.

You're practically on your knees as you catch your breath. You look down at the floor, pulling at the roots of your hair.

Dammit. You forgot to tell him that you left your car at his place.

"What a dumbass . . ." You mumbled to yourself, rubbing your eyes, waiting for the elevator. It takes a moment for the elevator to finally reach the top floor, and you don't know how long you've sat there with your aching feet.

"Y/N?" A breathy chuckle causes your eyes to snap. And there you see Namjoon staring down at you as if you were some kind of attraction worth laughing at. Your eyes widen in embarrassment as you rise to your full height, ignoring the flush on your cheeks.

"Namjoon," your whole face practically lit up at the sight of him. You let out a breath of relief, scratching the back of your neck. You're glad he hasn't left yet.

He bites his lips, not bothering to conceal the amusement that has formed on his flawless features. "Did you need anything, Y/N?" Namjoon smirks, and you're not sure if it's to mock you for desperately trying to chase him down, only to have the elevator door close in your face, or for something else you can't put your finger on.

God, was that embarrassing. With your hair tussled in different directions, you probably looked insane.

"I... I need a ride back to your place."

His smirk gradually becomes more evident. "To my place?"

Your eyes widen as you realize how wrong your words must've come off. "Oh, no! That's not what I meant," You mentally slap yourself for how awkward you must appear right now - all the confidence you usually have vanished in a split second when confronted with your attractive boss.

"I forgot my car at your place."

"Is that so?" He presses, shoving his free hand into his pocket as he approached the elevator door. "Or is that just an excuse to taste my special breakfast?"

You become even more flustered as you struggle to find the right words. "I...that isn't—no."

He catches you off guard when he grabs your wrist and pulls you close to him. You hesitantly freeze in place, jerking out of his grasp, or attempting to, but he quickly tightens his grip on you.

"Y/N, I'm just joking," he chuckles, pulling you to him, and for a moment you felt paralyzed. It was as if your feet were glued to the ground. But you couldn't take your gaze away from his dark eyes.

"W-what are you doing?"

"The doors are about to close," he explains as you frantically look to the sides, flinching when you see the metal doors so close to your face. But before anything could happen, Namjoon is already holding you against him as he leans back on the wall, his hands resting respectively on your waist.

"That was close, Y/N." His hand raises to your cheek as he tucks away the strands of hair. "You're planning on using your medical insurance before you leave, uh?" he jokes, ignoring the erratic beating of his own heart.

You're not sure if it's your heart pounding against your chest or his, but all you can seem to focus on is the way his large hands fit around your waist. He squeezes the fats around there, maintaining eye contact as if he wanted to make sure you weren't bothered by his touch.

You aren't. And he can see that by the way your tensed shoulders relaxes at his touch. He sighs, resisting the urge to rest his forehead on yours. This was not in his plans when he decided to go to any length to keep you.

You can't help but stare, you can't help but look at him. To really look at him. To admire him through his dark, mono-lid eyes. Every ounce of you didn't want to. This was a dangerous path, and one you never dared cross before.

"Y/N . . ." He softly calls out over the sound of classical music coming from the speakers above you, as well as the faint sound of the elevator reaching another floor, which he wasn't sure you heard. "I can't wait to meet your parents," he says louder.

You gulped, wondering why he was so eager to meet your family. He presses his body against yours, his heavy breaths fanning against the side of your face. "I can't wait to meet the parents who raised such a wonderful woman."

You're at a loss for words to calm his nerves, and maybe to reassure him that everything will be fine - that it will go as smoothly as you wish - but that is not entirely up to you.