37

Outside the room, there are ceaseless footsteps and noises of movement, which are quickly replaced by the gentle closing of a door.

You sleep on your side on your childhood twin-sized bed, which impressed you because it could accommodate your body without hurting your neck. But you manage to make it work.

Obviously, you weren't the same size as when you were an adolescent and had grown a few inches in height, curves and all, wondering how long it had been since you left Namjoon and your father downstairs once the house grew silent.

Although the sloped attic bedroom is commonly thought of as a dark, dusty space where rarely used holiday decorations and castoff pieces of furniture collect cobwebs, your parents managed to preserve the oft-overlooked top-floor space, which, with its lofty vaulted ceilings, windows, and secluded location, actually makes for a cozy bedroom.

It's every teenager's fantasy. At the very least, it was for you.

The brief snooze you took after taking a soothing shower in the common bathroom down the hall and changing into cotton shorts and a pajama shirt, was short lived as you were certain it was now past midnight.

The door gently creaks open to let a touch of light in through the gaps before you can even hear it, causing you to stir from another presence in the room, just as you let out a restless groan and bury your face into the pillows.

The door immediately closes and you hear a lock click, which startles you the most. If it were a horror film, you wouldn't let it go without thinking about who it could be.

On the one hand, there is a fuzzy shadow moving across the small space and toward you. A towering, muscly build you're all too familiar with.

"Baby."

"Oh my god, Joon," you rub your furrowed brow as Namjoon enters the room, the laughter in his voice returning as he silently curses himself for your startled reaction. "You scared the hell out of me."

His face appears when he clicks on the lamp by the bedside table.

Sighing in annoyance to himself for waking you, he rounds the bed and sits at edge of it as if were second nature for him to be cautious around someone else's safe space.

"I'm sorry. Didn't mean to give you a heart attack," he whispered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Just thought I'd check up on you since you kinda disappeared back there."

He had sought for you when your father compelled him to undergo some kind of background check, hoping to see you give him encouraging glances in the kitchen, but the moment he returned his focus to your father, you had vanished.

Normally, Namjoon would not be absentminded in the middle of a conversation since he considered it rude, but when all that was left was awkward silence with your father, he couldn't help but seek comfort. 

Lifting your duvet, you stressed your eyes and said, "C'mere, you big baby."

With a twinkle in his eyes, he scampers to the bed and purses his lips. "We won't be able to fit."

You nod to the space next you, shaking your head and pushing up your cushions, encouraging him to join you. You toss two pillows from either side of the mattress to the ground.

"We can cuddle," you answered flatly, despite his grin. "You're not that big." The final sentence is delivered nonchalantly, as if you haven't already noticed how his face creases at the lighthearted jest.

"Y/N," he warns, a veiled amusement in his voice as he can't stop thinking about it. "You already know that's fucking bullshit."

"Language!"

"You're saying it's not that 'big' when we both know you can barely fit all of me inside your mouth-"

"Joon!" You smack him on the bicep. "You're so filthy."

He scoffs in disbelief. "Me? I'm the filthy one?"

"I'll get on top of you," you joke, which he dismisses and instead grabs you by the foot and scratches the sole, knowing you're sensitive there.

Understands that once the spark is lit, there is no stopping it.

You grab his wrist and pull him beneath the covers with you before he can question your reasons. The bed creaks beneath you, and a grin lights your features as you notice his eyes expand.

"I can never escape you," he says jokingly, his warm,minty breath causing shivers down your spine.

"You're the one who came into my room," you remarked as you scooted to his side.

"You're the one who invited me to her bed," he says it with no discernible effort to move.

"What time is it anyways?" You ask, ignoring his words as his body sinks into the comfortable mattress. Even so, you hear the ruffling of his shirt fabric brush over your stomach skin and fall onto the bedroom floor.

"Almost two."

Namjoon preferred to sleep without a shirt on, which you had grown accustomed to by this point. He was hesitant to sleep like that at first for fear of making you uncomfortable, but he quickly realized you didn't care because you also slept in your underwear or without a bra.

With the exception of his spending patterns and organizational abilities, which you were honest with him about, he didn't need to change much about himself in order to get used to this new shared environment with you. Leaving his dirty garments lying around the room, and having to clean up after him, was something you didn't enjoy doing.

You, on the other hand, had already considered doing those things for him. You appreciated his willingness to take on cleaning duties and his patience with you.

Sliding in next you, he felt like a human warmer, so you cuddled him like you would a real heater.

"You're like a Koala," he murmured, aware that you were groggily attempting to converse with him. "Always clinging onto me."

Namjoon thinks it's adorable. He adores the physical just as much as any form of affection. He was the one who favored physical touch over all else in the beginning of your relationship, but it appears that you've adapted to the same love language.

"No, you are," you repeat back.

He chuckles beside you before moving on to another matter. He knows these conversations will go on indefinitely because you would never accept defeat - not like he was making it a competition. Just thinks there are far more things he wants to know. "Did you have a good talk with your mother?" He asks, watching the yawn escaping your lips.

You let him cradle your body.

"I did, though it's been a long time. We'll make up for lost time tomorrow."

"Anything else?" He asks slowly and timidly, even though you already know what he wants to know.

You try to recall your chat with your mother, and Namjoon is correct in his view that the most of it was about him. However, as much as you'd like to recall each one, you can't seem to focus, and you know your brain is incapable of functioning due to a lack of energy.

"Love..." He murmurs.

"Mmm?"

"You're dozing off," he notes.

You muttered something nonsensical against his chest before succumbing to your curiosity. "Was my dad mean to you?"

"Eh, maybe a little," he conceded. "At first, I thought he was going to strangle me. Then I started talking about you, and he didn't look at me as intently as he had when he first saw me."

You grimace, not wanting your own boyfriend to feel unwanted or excluded, like the way Sunho and your father may have.

"It's nothing I can't handle, really. I was only concerned about you. I know things were tense earlier."

"I'm fine," you say, and Namjoon can feel the rise and fall of your chest against his own. "I'll most likely have to talk it out with them before we leave."

You were both on your backs, Namjoom sitting up with his head against the headboard and you staring back at your ceiling in complete silence.

He turns and begins to trace random patterns on your bare arm with his fingertips.

You swallow, almost shivering from how good it feels.

"That's good," he drawls as his hands caress your thighs involuntarily beneath the warm sheets. "We'll start fresh tomorrow. Maybe have breakfast or lunch? My treat, of course."

You smile at the idea. "That would be nice, Joon. I think they'll love it."

He fiddles with his thumb. "You think so?"

You hum and press a kiss to his jaw. "Yeah, we won't have to get up so early to cook. We can enjoy more quality time together."

"We think alike," he says cheekily, and you nod in agreement before the room falls silent again.

Somewhere in your mind, you want to ask him what they talked about while you were gone, and whether there was anything that could jeopardize your relationship in the future. You don't want to appear nosy, and Namjoon would have told you by now if he wanted to.

You're mainly concerned, though.

Just like in the movies, the father bribes the guy to leave his daughter. You start to question why he stayed with you in the first place, why he chose you over all the gorgeous females who are literally waiting in line for him, affluent companies eager to hand over their daughters for marriage. Dammit. Your family isn't wealthy, and your father certainly doesn't have the means to marry you off.

Your paranoia is on a different level.

You're thinking about everything now, which is tiring you out even more. Namjoon can tell if your demeanor has changed if you don't speak for more than a few minutes.

"Something's bothering you."

"Just...thinking."

Your lips are pursed in a tight line. This was you being insecure and allowing it to ruin what should have been an excellent day with the person you care about. You both agreed to communicate whenever it was required, but you chose not to tell him.

Namjoon speaks as if he already understands a portion of what is going on in your mind. "Just so you know, we only talked about good things."

Your heart jumps at his words, even if you're not sure what to believe.

"Is that right?"

You feels soothing breaths on top of your head. A naked torso to rest your burning cheeks on.

Peeking into your space is a slightly ajar window and a midnight sky.

"Mhm. And we discussed business matters. I was actually surprised to find out he was willing to partner up by expanding his brand all the way to Seoul."

Glistening stars that waited to be wished upon. But that wasn't necessary, this was it. This was it for the both of you. The ultimate end goal. Your most desired hope. A wish buried in the recesses of yourminds to be later excavated in the depths of your soul.

You were almost speechless at this revelation.

You hadn't once looked up at the sky till you were in each other's grasp, yet everything was coming true. You weren't making fun of the sky; rather, you were trying to make sense of this particular scenario. 

To bury this in your memories forever. Because this had been the happiest moment for you.

"We'll get right on it when we get back," he informed. "Of course, just if you allow it. After all, you are the co-owner of the family restaurant."

"You don't know how happy I am right now." You were tearing up with emotions.

He grins, showing off his dimples. "Good. I always want to see you happy."

You wipe the lone tear in the corner of your eye. "What else did you guys talk about?"

"I told him I was serious about you," Namjoon replied, his fingers entwined with yours on your stomach. He takes a deep breath. You place your fingers delicately on top of his stiff shoulders. "And everything that followed was just how I felt about having you in my life. That certainly came across as a rehearsed version, but I meant every word."

Kim Namjoon never fails with his heartfelt words. It's like he's a poet trying to woo himself into your heart.

What else would you expect from a Literature and Modern Languages major?

"He would have felt your sincerity," you squeeze his palm and press your nose against his collarbone. "Because I wasn't even there but I believe you."

The way your voice cracked at the end doesn't go unnoticed by Namjoon as he finds you softly sniffling. Your left leg is easily thrown over his hips as his other hand pulls you even closer until your foreheads are touching and one movement would have your lips pressed to his inviting ones.

"Hey, don't get emotional on me now," he softly chuckles and grabs your jaw so he can finally crash his mouth to yours.

He invades every part of you.

And you let him.

His tongue speaking languages you can't comprehend, and it's okay because it's the feeling that matters the most.

Although unlike the usual lustful and aggressive kisses you share, the kiss is passionate and tender and slow as if you were both savoring this moment and letting it last for as long as you can.

When it's time to catch your breaths, it's like the room is spinning and your vision hazy, you have to bring your hands to his face to make sure you aren't dreaming. That this is all real.

"I love you, Joon."

"I love you more, Y/N," he presses you closer. "I won't get tired of saying it."

"Don't make me cry." You bury your face in the crook of his neck and the scent of his body wash from this morning still lingered. "My dad'll bring out his shotgun."

His brown eyes widened. "His w-what?"

"He was in the military," you shrug.

"You didn't tell me that."

"Oh, must've slipped my mind then."

"Does he have it...now?"

"Not sure," you hum, letting your heavy lids shut. "Maybe. Why? You scared?"

"N-no," he protests despite sounding like a teenage boy fearing for his life. "Y/N?"

"Hmm?"

"C...Can I sleep here tonight?"

"Appa will chase you out with his sh-"

"I'm up!" He exclaims in an instant, scurrying out of your hold, but before he could get out of the bed, you cage his legs with your own despite the difference in strength. "I'll go sleep on the couch."

"I was just joking, Joon," you laughed, "you're not going anywhere."

He frowns. "Your dad is going to kill me either way if he finds out I didn't sleep in the couch and instead snuck into your room."

"Yeah, if he finds out," you declare, "You're not gonna tell him, are you?"

"Y/N..."

"I promise it'll be fine. We'll just need to get up sooner."

"But you said he has a shotgun," he worries.

With Namjoon's style of thinking and the look on his face, you know he'll never let this go and will most likely remain up all night fretting. You spoon his body while weaving your fingers through his silky hair instead.

"There's no shotgun," you say falsely. It wasn't entirely untrue. Your father did own a shotgun, but it was back when water Deers were not protected in demilitarized zones, which was years ago when you weren't even born. So you've never seen it in action before. It was amusing to watch Namjoon's reaction.

"You lied?" His mouth drops when he cranes his neck to look down at you.

You yawn and turn to face him as he retrieves his hand, observing the obvious exhaustion in your eyes. He wants to continue the banter, but he realizes you both need to sleep after a long day.

Namjoon snorts and squeezes your hips before spanking you on the buttocks with a light smack. "You're unbelievable."

You give a worn smile. "Tomorrow will be a long day. They want to visit the sea."

"I'm so excited," he beams. "I haven't gone to a family outing in years."

"I know, love. That's why I suggested it. I thought it would be a good idea to escape from the bustling city for a while."

He agrees with a hum. Namjoon has always been fascinated by nature. He spent his spare time reading, going for walks, and riding his bicycle, yet he wasn't able to enjoy the little things.

"I almost forgot how the sea looked."

"Then we'll make it count," you tell him. "I planned an entire itinerary just for the both of us."

"Really?"

He shouldn't be astonished by your skills at this point. You knew he was looking forward to this, so you made sure it wasn't just you who got to enjoy it. This was your first trip as a couple, and you wanted to leave with lasting recollections.

"Yeah, just us two."

"I shouldn't tire you out then..."

You snicker, still having the energy to roll your eyes.After being woken from your nap, it was getting harder to fall back to sleep.

He lifts your thighs higher. "Can't sleep?"

You simply nodded.

"Want me to help?" He lowers his tone and you're about to question him, until he suddenly removes your leg from his hip and swiftly dips under the covers. The thick duvet curtains his bare shoulders and his face comes into view.

"I'll tire you out," he offers, flicking his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. And then he's hovering over you before you can blink, your mind going blank for a good minute when you realize the hardness in his sweatpants poking right at your clothed core.

The shock leaves you yelping though, slapping your hand against your mouth.

Your body immediately heats up and you can't help when your legs widen apart for him. "You don't h-have to..."

Namjoon cocks his brows, and this time, there isn't a hint of playfulness on his face, which makes you gulp.

"Okay, just this once."

There is something that swirls in his eyes as he never breaks eye contact with you. You both know this won't be the last time and eventually one if you will come begging for more.

"Don't make a sound or else they'll hear you."

Oh God.

The thought of anyone hearing you will be the end of you and you won't be able to recover. But deep down, there is something thrilling and gets your blood pumping at the secrecy of it all.

"But the walls are thin-"

Your voice is cut when suddenly he's lowering himself so his face is at level with your shorts. With one swift motion, he helps you discard them down your legs before he tosses it somewhere on the floor.

You can't see his face properly, but if you could see each other's features, you'd burst out laughing. When Namjoon sneaks his way between your thighs, the desire to giggle vanishes in an instant.

As the pads of his fingers make contact with your clothed heat to conceal the moans that want to break out of your throat, you clear your throat shakily.

It only takes one touch to send you to oblivion. He traces your panties with his fingertips before applying more pressure causing your breath to hitch.

He hooks another finger behind your panties, teasingly moving it from left to right before tugging it up, prompting you to groan as the lace material sticks to your folds. It's an automatic reflex to wriggle and tighten your legs together for some form of stimulation since you know you won't be able to endure this long of foreplay that he so enjoys.

"Tell me to stop," he says simply.

A snicker leaves your lips as soon as he says it.

"Isn't it too late?" you nudge to the mess between your legs.

As if refusing to take you seriously, Namjoon smirks and presses his fingers harder, making you gasp. "It's never too late to stop."

He can't be serious.

"Jesus, Joon, you're fingers are already buried in my fucking walls!" You hiss, making sure you aren't making unnecessary sounds.

He suddenly takes both fingers out, pushing them back into your entrance and muffling your moans with his mouth.

"And you're still complaining," he chuckles,sassily.

"Fuck y—"

He curls his fingers into your sweet spot before pulling away from your mouth, while you grow desperate to get your lips on something to mask your lewd sounds.

"You're clenching so much."

Your eyes roll back as you try to relax from the high. "Well if you'd just started a long time ago, I wouldn't be."

"Look at yourself," Namjoon husks. When you glance down at yourself, his middle finger has entirely disappeared inside of you. "Taking my fingers so well."

"Motherfucker," you grit your teeth, prying your eyes open just to cast him a look of irritation. "Hurry and fuck me."

"Ah, ah. Language, love," he replies cockily and you reach out your hand toward his cock in attempt to take your revenge but Namjoon is quick to grab your wrist before you can. "Who said anything about fucking you?"

You glare at him, "Me."

"Feisty," he replies cheekily, putting some space between you as he leans on his hands even more. "I love seeing you like this."

Submissive, he means.

"You know what, I don't want it anymore- oh"

✧ ✦ ✧

Your nose creases at the sound gentle pad of his bare feet against the hardwood.

Namjoon was creeping around the corner of the room, oblivious to the fact that he was being watched. With sunlight streaming in through the windows, an all-white color palette builds on the abundance of natural light, making the small space appear and feel larger than it is. The wicker baskets and warm wood floor bring warmth and texture to the otherwise colorless space.

Namjoon is fond of it. He hadn't seen it the night before, so he makes reparations. Taking in the black and white polaroids of faces he's never seen before hanging on a board wall. He figures it's between middle and high school. This is confirmed by the unsightly tan line between your arms and neck.

He takes the time to notice the trinkets of collectors on top of Mahogany drawers, which he had no idea about you.

"Didn't know you were into these, too." Namjoon says, eyes a little puffy from only six hours of sleep. He'd gone to the toilet an hour before and changed into more appropriate clothing that didn't scream "post-sex high" and more of an innocent boy-from-church look.

You sit up on the headboard, drawing the blanket over your exposed skin, which pales in comparison to the man across the room. It's not your intention to stare at his chiseled back and broad shoulders that he worked hard for, with your burning gaze, and then act oblivious when he catches you.

"Does that make you love me any less?" You wonder if it's cheesy because a recollection of an asshole you met once on a double date with one of your college acquaintances put you on it. You're relieved that time in your life is done with it.

"Tsk - no." Namjoon scoffs, perplexed as to why you even asked that in the first place. "Hyung has a lot of Pokémon cards back home that he still collects. He's nearly thirty-two, yet it makes him happy."

You scoff at the way he easily brings up Seokjin's age and how the older would react if he heard any of this.

"I mean I don't collect them anymore, but it's nice to look back on. It's a part of my childhood."

He simply giggles and continues on his little task, stopping right at the wall of early 90s hip-hop posters taking half of the wall. It takes you back to all sorts of flashy fashion, and the crazy hairdos that took the nation by storm.

"It's not obvious you were into the crazy stuff," he looks over his shoulder, the corner of his lip tilting. "You were an emo, no?"

The way you gasp in offense is almost comical. "I was not an emo," you argue, failing to fling a pillow at him when he catches it on time. Though horrifying, you couldn't have lived with that embarrassment.

He sends you a wink instead, satisfied seeing you wide awake now. More lively than the time he spooned you into his arms.

"And even if I was, I'm pretty sure we all went through that phase in middle school."

"Sure, baby," he bites back his tongue, "Need you up now. They'll be awake soon."

"But why were you up so early?" You finally make it out of bed as he hands you a robe. You mumble a soft thanks, to which he reciprocates with a delicate peck on your cheek, and plug your phone to charge, which you forgot to do the night before. Gotta make sure you have enough battery to capture moments you're gonna bring home.

"We don't leave until eleven."

"Had to make sure the couch looked like someone's laid on it."

"Seriously?" You giggle simply thinking about him purposefully scuffing up the couch linens to sell an act you both know were never going to follow.

His dimples deepen as he sits at the foot of your bed, waiting for you to grab toiletries from the suitcase, like a child with his feet tucked under his butt.

"Besides I had to make arrangements with one of my associates that owns a good restaurant in the city," he says. "They have the best Italian food."

"I should have known you wouldn't let up." You mention, despite the fact that you had another destination in mind, an old restaurant you used to visit with your family and were thrilled to bring him after finding it was still open after all these years.

"Oh," he realizes as he rambles on, "did you have something in mind already?"

You shrug, indifferent. "Yeah, but we can go there some other time if that's what you want."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, but there's like, eight of us."

"Y/N," Namjoon softly says. "It's my treat. I told you I wanted to spend time with your family, and that the best way to do it is through a hearty meal."

He makes no mention of the fact that he intended to impress them, particularly your father, whom he had observed to be an expert in various dishes and cuisines. Doesn't tell you that he had one of the most notable chefs in Japan flown in the country for the day, and how he rented out the entire place, usually filled with tourists, to enjoy quality time looking over the breathtaking coastal view of your hometown. Doesn't tell you that with his efforts to woo them, comes a personalized present he thought they'd like.

Doesn't tell you how he'd planned days beforehand how he's going to surprise you with something he's been wanting to do for months.

Is so utterly oblivious - as he rambles on about a place he wants to visit with you alone - to how your breath catches in your throat when something - in a form of a box - collides with your nimble fingertips in the pocket of your shared suitcase.

Oh my God.

I think you guys already know what's coming 👀I didn't see it coming, too, haha. I never do. Everything I write is never planned out throughly beforehand, so everything you guys are reading, are all last minute ideas that I've only thought of in the moment. I think the only time I plan something beforehand, is the conversations among the characters. It's an odd way to write a story, but that's the fun of it! Being spontaneous.

How do we feel? Are we excited or sad that this book is coming to an end?