XXII

POV: YN 

Knock knock knock.

The door swung open before I could even breathe.

"BIG NEWS! You'll never guess!"

Maru barged in like he owned the place. No greeting. No hesitation. Just his voice booming across the room, arms flailing in excitement, completely oblivious to the emotional earthquake he'd just interrupted.

He blinked, noticing Namjoon, but didn't falter. "Oh hey, hyung. Didn't know you were here."

Namjoon stood quietly. I could feel the shift in him instantly—the retreat, the wall slamming back up.

"I'll go," he muttered.

"No—wait," I reached out to him, but he was already gone. "Maru—can this wait?"

Maru shook his head, breathless, beaming. "No way. I drove over thirty minutes just to tell you face to face! It'll take two seconds."

I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to cry. I wanted to rewind time by five minutes and slam that door shut.

Namjoon had left. He didn't look back as he slipped out the door.

I barely heard a word Maru said after that. Something about Fallon. Something about...the Met Gala?

"You're in," he grinned. "Jimmy Fallon. You'll appear with BTS—it's locked."

My brain barely registered it.

"Oh and... drumroll... You got invited to the Met Gala."

My mouth parted, but no sound came out.

"Not as anyone's plus one. You. Y/N. Three brands want to dress you. Valentino. Versace. Armani Privé." He waited for my reaction, arms wide, basking in what should've been a life-changing moment.

And it was. But I felt nothing. Or maybe, I felt everything else.

The room blurred. My pulse drummed in my ears, drowning out the rest of his excitement. I mumbled something that might've been "thank you" or "that's amazing" or maybe just "later," and walked away before he could ask for a reaction.

Namjoon's door loomed like a cliff edge. I stood there, uncertain, heart in my throat. I knocked. Once.

No answer.

Twice. My voice cracked. "Joon... I need to talk to you."

Silence.

A third time.

Still nothing.

I opened the door. I didn't care anymore if it was rude. I had let too much slip away already.

The room was cloaked in darkness, lit only by the silver cast of the full moon pouring through the balcony. Curtains fluttered in the wind, whispering secrets to the night.

I stepped in quietly, then saw him—outside, just beyond the glass, a silhouette against the pale glow.

He was sitting on the floor, knees drawn to his chest, back against the wall. One empty green bottle beside him. Another, still half-full, dangling loosely in his hand.

I moved to him instinctively, kneeling in front of him.

His face was turned away, but I could see the glint of tears tracing slow lines down his cheek. He didn't flinch. Didn't speak. Didn't look at me.

I placed my hands gently on his knees. "We need to talk."

He laughed—a small, bitter sound. "I think I've already talked way too much tonight, don't you think? I don't have anything further to say."

"Alright," I whispered. "Then I'll talk. And you listen."

My chest hurt. My throat tightened. But I couldn't run anymore. I wouldn't.

"I've been pretending," I began, barely more than a whisper. "Pretending I didn't feel it. That what's between us was something I could ignore, or control, or bury."

He still didn't look at me, but his breathing slowed.

"I told myself it was nothing. That I was just confused. That I couldn't—shouldn't—feel this way. That it would ruin everything. You, me, all of it."

My voice broke. "But every time you were near me... it was like gravity. Like my heart knew something my mind wasn't ready to admit. And tonight... when you said those things—"

He flinched.

I paused. My hand lifted to his cheek—gentle but firm—and I turned his face toward me.

He didn't resist. He let me.

"—I felt like I could finally breathe. Like something inside me stopped fighting. Because I feel it too. All of it. The ache. The longing. The love."

Our eyes met.

His were swollen, glassy, tired. But open.

And I said it.

"I love you, Namjoon."

The words hit the air like thunder after lightning—inevitable. Terrifying. Freeing.

"I've been so afraid. Of myself. Of what people would say. Of what it might cost. But the truth is..." I took a shaky breath, eyes never leaving him. "The moment you said you loved me, it became the greatest moment of my life."

He finally looked at me. Really looked at me. Like I was a sunrise he didn't dare believe was real.

His voice was hoarse, barely there. "You mean that?"

I nodded, swallowing the tears. "With everything I am."

He let the bottle fall from his hand. It clinked softly against the wood.

His hand shot out—fingers curling tightly around my wrist.

And then, he pulled me into him.

Hard.

Our bodies collided, and I tumbled into his chest. His arms wrapped around me like armor, holding me there like he needed me to breathe. My cheek pressed against his chest—and I heard it.

His heartbeat. Slamming. Wild. Uncontained.

Just like mine.

We both let go then—tears streaming freely. But they weren't from pain anymore. They were from something deeper. Relief. Joy. The beautiful ache of finally finding what you didn't know you'd been missing.

And for the first time in my whole life, I felt Home.

POV Namjoon : 

"BIG NEWS! You'll never guess!"

I didn't even turn. I could feel her hand tighten, her body tense—but I knew that look in her eyes. Torn. 

That was all I needed.

"I'll go," I muttered, barely meeting her eyes. I didn't wait for her to stop me. I didn't want to hear her say don't.

I walked away before I could fall further. Before I begged her to stop me.

I don't even remember making it back to my room. My body was moving, but my chest was a warzone.

How could I be so freaking stupid?

Why couldn't I just keep my mouth shut, keep pretending, keep being her safe space instead of making her run?

I was nothing but a wound now, pulsing open.

The bottle of soju I grabbed from the minibar wasn't cold enough. I finished it before I could taste it. Started another. Sat on the balcony floor like a broken puppet, legs pulled to my chest like a boy who'd lost his way, staring at the stars like they owed me something.

But all I saw was her.

The sky was too clear. The moon too bright. Everything was too quiet, and yet I couldn't stop hearing it—her silence.

I love you, YN. I love you.

Over and over in my head. A freaking echo chamber of humiliation.

I knew better. I knew love was dangerous. Especially mine.

But I gave it anyway.

I let the tears fall. What was the point of holding back now?I'd already undressed my soul for her. There was nothing left to protect.

I wasn't BTS's leader out here. I wasn't the man people leaned on or praised. I wasn't anything. Just a man who had laid everything bare... 

I was just Kim Namjoon.

And I was alone.

And then—Knock.

My heart stuttered.

Once.

I didn't move.

Twice.

My throat tightened. I heard her voice. Soft. "Joon... I need to talk to you."

God, don't say my name like that.

I pressed my head back against the wall. Willed her to walk away.

Third knock.

Then silence. A pause. A choice.

The door creaked open.

I didn't stop her.

Her steps were cautious. The air shifted—familiar, trembling.

I felt her before I saw her—kneeling in front of me, placing her hands gently on my knees. Her touch was soft. Kind. Too kind.

She touched my knees gently. Like I was breakable.

I was.

"We need to talk," she said.

I turned my face to the side, letting the wind dry my tears. "I think I've already talked way too much tonight, don't you think?" My voice came out cracked and hollow. "I don't have anything further to say."

I meant it. I'd said all I could.

"Alright," she whispered. "Then I'll talk. And you listen."

I didn't look at her. I couldn't.

Then she started speaking.

Every word carved into me like glass under skin.

"I've been pretending..."

My breath caught.

"That what's between us was something I could ignore, or control, or bury."

My chest physically ached. I had to lock my jaw to keep from shaking.

"...it was like gravity. Like my heart knew something my mind wasn't ready to admit."

Gravity. Yes. That's exactly what she was. A force I couldn't defy.

I hadn't dared hope. Not anymore.

Then came the silence before the storm. And then—

Her hand reached up. Soft. Steady. She touched my cheek and turned my face toward her.

I let her.

And when our eyes met, something cracked wide open inside me.

I saw it before she said it. The truth in her. The storm and the calm. All of it.

And then—

"I love you, Namjoon."

Everything stilled.

Time. Breath. Thought.

The air collapsed around me. I didn't know if I could even trust my ears. I forgot how to breathe. My mouth parted, but no sound came out.

"...the moment you said you loved me, it became the greatest moment of my life."

My hands trembled.

 I didn't deserve those words. I didn't deserve her. But she was there. Saying everything I had prayed—begged—to hear.

I turned to her, fully this time.

Her eyes were shining. Her face open, unguarded. No lies. No hesitation.

Just her.

Just love.

"You mean that?" I asked, my voice barely holding.

"With everything I am."

And just like that—my last defense broke.

That was it.

The bottle slipped from my hand with a quiet clink.

I reached for her—grabbed her wrist—and pulled her into me.

She fell into my chest, head resting just above my heart. I held her tightly, arms locked around her like a lifeline. Like if I let go, I'd disappear.

Her ear pressed to my heartbeat. I knew she could hear it—thundering.

We both cried then. No shame. No fear. Just the warmth of being seen. Chosen. Loved.

And in that moment—I wasn't a leader or a name.

I was just a man finally home.

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A.N. 📅 2025.06.10

Namjoonie is finally home! 💜 To celebrate his return, I've released three chapters instead of one—and not just any chapters, but the confession chapters. Yes, those ones. 🥹💕

I poured so much love into writing them, and I hope you feel every bit of it while reading. If you enjoy the story, please don't forget to comment and vote—your support means the world to me and keeps this story alive. 🌸

With all my love, always,💜