-Night 1-

The workshop that evening had gone well. No song had been created by the end of it, but it had worked as a good practice round for future ones. Despite the long drive and little sleep, everyone was invested and in full work mode. After a few hours of satisfied work, we ended the shop and decided on dinner.

Yoongi took lead in the kitchen once again and managed to cook something fast for us.

As we shared our meal and the guys talked amongst each other, I played a melody in my head. The melody had been on repeat since waking from my nap. Believing it was the key I needed to fix a gap in the song I was presenting tomorrow in the workshop, I felt the urge to head to the backhouse and work on it. However, I knew it would be rude if I didn't wait until after dinner. I finished as quickly, stating I wanted to work on the upcoming workshop. Namjoon, Yoongi, and Hoseok all said they were going to do the same.

Yoongi was using their old trailer as his personal studio. He invited Hobi and Namjoon to join, but only Hobi took him up on his offer.

"I'm going to work out for a bit first," Namjoon explained.

"I'll join you," Jungkook said.

"Me too," Jimin piggybacked.

"You guys just ate," I pointed out with slight worry.

"It'll be light work. And we'll wait half an hour before we do," Namjoon promised. He got and headed to the exit so he could head to the back house to put on his workout gear. I was right behind him.

Once we got to the house, I set up my station as Namjoon got ready.

"I'm feeling a bit tired. Hopefully, this workout wakes me up for a few hours so I can work," Namjoon said as I finished setting up my workstation on our shared kitchen table. "Care to join me?" he asked with a teasing smile.

"I'll pass," I said, rolling out my keyboard and connecting it to my computer.

He left with a smile and I stared after him through the window. I did my best to not allow my eyes to linger on his ass for too long.

I shook my head and went to work on the song for tomorrow, trying to fix in the melody that had popped in my head earlier.

Thankfully, it didn't take long for my focus to be solely on this project. For almost two hours I worked on it on my keyboard, trying different chords to see what flowed well. I had been so engaged in the task that I didn't realize Namjoon had arrived and set up shop on the kitchen island. He had even taken a shower; I could tell from the water dripping off his dark grey hair.

Seeing him sitting there on the island startled me a bit. "When did you get here?" I asked, trying to settle my heart rate.

"A bit ago. You were so focused, I didn't want to interrupt." He had his laptop, headphones, multiple notebooks, and an iPad in front of him.

As I looked at him, I noticed his attire. He had on joggers and a black, muscle t-shirt. That was it. There had been a few times I'd seen Namjoon's bare arms, but it was rare, and the last time had been months ago. The guy just kept growing. I could see the outlines of his pecs from the t-shirt he was wearing, could see the sharpness of his collar bones, and the mountains that were now his biceps.

I took a sip of water, feeling my throat a little dry. "What are you working on?" I asked, looking down at my notes and away from him.

He explained some of the ideas he wanted to discuss in the workshop. He had printed out a few pages with literacy passages he felt might go well with the feel of the music. He had come up with some melodies and lyrics but was unsure what he wanted his main focus to be on.

I let him do most of the talking, knowing full well he sometimes needed to talk out an idea until he figured it all out himself. I knew this because we had written several songs together. Sure enough, after only two questions prompted by me, he had a full strategy for his song.

Looking satisfied, he wrote in his notebook and closed his laptop. He came over to the table and took a seat. It didn't pass me in noticing he chose not to seat in the closest chair to him—which would have been direct across from me—but had gone around the table to take the chair next to me. "What are you working on?"

I took another sip of water as he leaned over and picked up one of the worksheets I had printed earlier.

I disconnected my headphones from the keyboard so I could use the speakers. "I've had this melody in my head most of the day. At first, I thought it would go well with the song I wrote for tomorrow's workshop, but now I have a feeling it's an entirely different song. I know I should focus on what I wrote for tomorrow, but I kind of want to chase this new song."

"Play it, girl," Namjoon encouraged as he placed his elbows on the counter, readying himself.

I looked away from his bulging upper arms and played the music. It started with the D6 chord, followed by Em7 and then G. Bm and Em7 and D. I repeated the set a few times before stopping. "That's all I got." I ran my hand through my hair and scratched my head, a thought creeping its way to my full consciousness.

"What seems off about it?" His voice was quiet, but I could clearly hear him.

I turned to him, not understanding. "What do you mean?"

He held my gaze. And like so many times before, I felt he was looking into my soul. "You tell me. Something about what you played isn't sitting with you."

"What makes you say that?" I hunched my shoulders, trying to hide as much of myself from him as I could.

"You scratch your head when something is bothering you—but it's only when it comes to music. When it's something that's not music, you put your hair up in a bun. And if it's already up, you take it down only to put it up all over again."

I honestly didn't know how his words made me feel so naked. He saw so much of me when I thought I was doing a kick-ass job in hiding. He never used this gift of his against me; always said it so nonchalantly as if he was telling me I had something on my face—like it was no big deal he knew my private habits. At times it felt like he knew me better than anyone else in my life. And being the private person I was, it made me nervous that someone knew me in such detail. However, I was quickly reminded that this was one of Namjoon's many gifts. He had a tendency to read his members just as easily. There really wasn't anything special in the way he read me.

After reminding myself I wasn't special to Namjoon, I decided there was no point in telling him he was wrong about his observations. I let out my thoughts regarding the song. "It seems personal. It's not for someone else. I don't think I want to give up this song."

Namjoon's face turned bright. "A song for yourself?"

I gave a slight nod.

He placed his big, warm hand around my shoulders and gave me a tight hug of excitement. "That's awesome!"

He knew it had been a long time since I had created a song for myself. If I was being honest, I was feeling a little excited myself, but I didn't want to get too ahead of myself. This song could lead to a dead end and stay in my folder as an unfinished project—like so many other countless songs.

"Do you have everything ready for tomorrow's workshop?" he asked, his arm still around me.

I looked over the checklist I had made for myself. "As much as I can."

"Then just work on this song." He rubbed my arm softly and gave me another squeeze before pulling away.

A chill made its way through me, making me shiver.

He must have caught it. "You cold? Want some coffee?"

There was a sweater next to me that could help, but I could never turn down coffee.

"I'll go make us some." He got up from his seat and made his way to the door, exiting the house.

As soon as he left, goosebumps made their way across my arms. This time, it was for a different reason; I had the sudden thought the house was too dark and lonely. And quiet. I looked around the dimness of the kitchen and living room and felt uneasy. No more than two seconds later, I was dashing out of there and hurrying after Namjoon.

He stopped for me, having heard me bail out, and snickered. "You live by yourself, how are you afraid of being alone for a few minutes?"

Once I was at his side, he resumed walking. "That's a house I'm familiar with," I explained. "I don't know the ghosts that live in that place."

I could feel Namjoon rolling his eyes in the dark.

As we entered the main house, we were having a small banter about the belief in the afterlife. I wasn't religious, hadn't been since my 20s, but I liked to argue with Namjoon.

And he knew I liked to rile him up, but he always took the bait.

Tae, Jimin, Hobi, and Jin were in the living room, half hanging out, half working.

Namjoon turned to them. "Does anyone want to trade me rooms? She's bound to drive me nuts by the end of this week."

"Punishment is punishment," Hobi pointed out.

"Weren't you working with Yoongi?" I asked, arriving at the kitchen.

He was about to answer me, but Jimin beat him to it. "Yoongi-hyung was being too quiet."

Hobi laughed but didn't defend himself. "How are you driving Namjoonie nuts this time?"

"He doesn't believe in ghosts," I said simply. "He's judging me because I do."

Namjoon pretended to ignore me from the espresso maker.

"We all have our difference of opinions when it comes to religion," Tae tried to rationalize, trying to be the peacemaker but also doing it sarcastically. He knew I was exaggerating.

"She doesn't even believe the stuff she is arguing for," Namjoon said with slight irritation.

I took some mugs and set them around the coffee maker. "No, but it's annoying you."

Namjoon just glared at me, unamused.

"Maya is the only one who can bug Namjoon this much," Jin said, then went back to his notebook. "It's fun to watch."

For the next hour, most of us had coffee and hung out in the living room.

Yoongi and Jungkook joined when I sent them a message that coffee was ready. Yoongi had given up caffeine but took the decaffeinated one I made.

I was currently sitting on the couch with Tae and Jimin. Namjoon was sitting in front of me on the floor. The conversation was on tomorrow's workshop. It was getting past midnight, and no one seemed to be the slightest bit tired.

Jin had just finished making one of his cow puns—why was it always cows?

Only Yoongi and I were the ones left with straight faces.

Jin caught on and began scolding the two of us for not having a sense of humor.

"It wasn't funny," Yoongi stated, looking at Jin as if he was crazy to think it had been a good joke. "Do you want me to lie to you?"

"Yes, it would boost my self-esteem," Jin said with a straight face.

"Oh, yes because you're lacking in that department," I said sarcastically.

He dismissed my comment. "Ok, I got another good one."

I dramatically rolled my eyes at him. "You are so bad at these—god help your future children."

He gave me the question and didn't even wait for me to give an answer before he started to laugh at his upcoming joke.

"You haven't even said the pun yet. How are you already laughing?" I teased.

Jin gathered up some composure and pretended to be outraged. "Ah! Maya, why are you always so mean to me?"

"Why are you calling me out? Yoongi isn't laughing either."

We went on bickering back and forth for another good minute before Jin turned on Yoongi. Then, it was the pair of them going at it as the rest of us laughed.

I noticed Namjoon rolling his right shoulder and then moving his neck back and forth. Since I'd known him, he had an issue with his right shoulder—something to do with an accident from back when he was a kid.

Instinctively, I reached over and put my palms on his shoulders.

He stayed still and let out a small sigh once the bottom of my palms began to rub his shoulder blades. His neck hung, allowing himself a good massage. I pushed my body forward and pulled his upper body closer to mine. He got the hint and backed up closer to me.

I straightened my arm as my fingers did circular motions on his right shoulder. I found a couple of knots and focused on them. His muscle shirt was making it easier for my fingers to move freely up and down his upper back. Once the knots had gone, I focused on his neck, where I could feel tension.

I placed my legs a little more comfortably on either side of his body. I then wrapped my arm fully around his upper chest for leverage. He let me push down his neck as I worked on the back of it. He let out a few moans and voiced compliments toward me.

"How's your head feel?" My mouth was level with his ear, so I didn't really speak up much.

He replied with a deeper moan.

I sat a little straighter and pulled his neck straight up, my fingers then slid through his short, dark, grey hair in circular motions. His heavy head then fell backward, my chest catching it. I kept him there as my hands went to massage his shoulders again.

He was doing a lot again. His visit to the UN, the upcoming concerts, and the workshops were working him to the bone. And I'm pretty sure this "rough patch" Yoongi had mentioned was adding to the stress. He loved his job but his body needed a breather.

His face looked so serene as if he was dreaming. "I could stay here forever," he mumbled.

I scoffed. "I'd have to charge you." He was so close; that I didn't have to speak up.

This only made him snuggle closer. "I'll give you all my money right now."

No more than two seconds later, those chocolate-brown irises of his sluggishly opened and looked so intensely into mine.

"Your laugh is cute," he whispered.

Had I been laughing? I felt my cheeks get a little warm. "I snort when I laugh."

"That's what makes it cute."

I was so close to Namjoon's face that I could see the lines on his forehead clearly. I was reminded of the years that had passed since we first met. Back then, Namjoon had some baby fat on his cheeks, but the plump features had left him, being replaced by fine lines. I knew he wasn't the ideal handsome type by Korean or world standards, but to me—at this very moment—I don't think I had ever seen a man look more handsome.

"There is an empty house behind us for you guys to have some lovey-dovey time." The voice made us both pull away from each other.

I looked up to find the guys looking at us with teasing smiles. I wasn't sure who had interrupted us, but it didn't matter. They all looked to share the same sentiment.

I pulled myself up on my seat, feeling some embarrassment for the way things might have looked between me and Namjoon. But Namjoon stayed where he was at. He slouched a little and lifted his arm to place it above my thigh. Both my legs were still on either side of him.

I didn't understand why I stiffened as he got into a more comfortable position. We had sat together like this before. Why was it feeling so awkward with him all of a sudden?

I tried not to allow my thoughts to drag me away from the guys. I didn't want to make it awkward for anyone—including myself—so I pretended to listen in on their conversation.

I heard bits and pieces of it. They discussed their upcoming concert, the next album, and what we were going to eat tomorrow. But my mind was too focused on Namjoon. My feelings for him were intensifying. I wasn't able to ignore my attraction to him like I used to.

The guys caught on to my silence.

"Mai-Mai, what is it?" asked Hobi.

I looked up and found five pairs of brown eyes on me. When had Yoongi and Jungkook left?

I made some excuse that I was thinking about needing to get work done. I checked the time and saw it was past midnight. I said my goodnight to the guys and headed to the backhouse.

Once I was sitting down at the dining table, I decided to focus on the sample music I was going to be using at the morning's workshop. Music always settled me.

I played the workshop music on my keyboard with the speakers at full volume. As I played the guys' song, the new chords I had crafted earlier kept coming up. My fingers felt an urge to play them.

After working for a good twenty minutes, the backdoor opened and Namjoon stepped into the house. "Why not work on your song?" he asked as I continued playing.

I waved it off. "It's ok. I really should focus on this."

He made his way to his station on the island. "You got the itch, Maya. Chase it."

I knew what he meant. There were always those songs that caught your full attention and wouldn't leave your mind alone until they were complete. This song felt like one of those.

Namjoon put on his headphones, took out his glasses, gave me a smile and wink of encouragement, and started to work on his own.

I took his advice. I put on my headphones to not disturb his own work.

Surprisingly, the chords came rather easily, but I was getting annoyed by hearing the music only in my ears. The music called for this to be louder. I got Namjoon's attention. "Is it alright if I leave the headphones off? I kind of want to hear it fill the room."

Namjoon nodded. "Yeah, I have my headphones on anyways. Go ahead."

"Thanks." I took off my headphones and put the speaker on full blast. I wished there had been a piano on the property. An actual piano. The keyboard just didn't hold the same feel under my fingers.

I played what I had created and allowed my fingers and intuition to take over. For the next half hour, I found the notes that flowed well together. I played it over and over, a feeling of familiarity coating me. Had I written this song before?

After a few seconds of no longer playing, I heard a deep voice. "That was beautiful."

I honestly had forgotten Namjoon was present. I was so lost in the song that I thought I had been in my apartment rather than this old house.

Namjoon's headphones were hanging around his neck and staring at the keyboard in front of me, a puzzling look on his face. "Almost sounds like something you would hear at a wedding."

That's when I knew why the song sounded familiar. I had created a melody similar to this song years ago.

I didn't say anything, but Namjoon caught onto my enthusiasm by my facial expression. "What?"

I immediately went into my files to find the song. Thankfully, I recorded everything and kept it all organized. It didn't take me long to find the file.

Namjoon was waiting for me patiently. "Found something to go with the music?"

I nodded as I opened the file and hit play. My voice came out of the speaker that had a melody with a faster pace than the piano piece I had written.

"Don't want to feel weak in love, give up control. I'm never gonna let down my guard, be vulnerable. Don't want to feel helpless or be too comfortable. I'll make it on my own."

My voice sounded too rough for the softness of the piano and, again, the melody was too fast for it, but it was all in the same key as the music I had created. Plus, the emotions and words felt right for the music.

I uploaded the lyrics to the song and thought of how I could change them to fit together.

Namjoon had the same idea as I did. "Slowing down the tempo could work. What are the lyrics again?" He asked as he pushed his glasses up his nose. He looked super adorable. Almost like a nerd.

I repeated the lyrics back to him. He thought for a moment as I hummed the lyrics again. I played the piano music and worked on the lyrics I had for the other song. It didn't take long to find the right formula to mesh both creations. I did a quick, rough recording of it and played it back.

"That works," Namjoon nodded in approval. "How did what I say about this being a wedding song make you think of those lyrics?" he asked curiously.

"I wrote those lyrics after Jerry and I broke up," I said easily.

Jerry and I had been together for two years. He had been my last serious relationship—the only happy and positive one I had. But, in the end, we wanted two different things. Everyone I knew didn't understand why it hadn't worked between us. And as much as they asked, I was too private to share why we broke up.

"Oh," Namjoon said simply. He had asked about my breakup with Jerry right after it happened. I hadn't given a sincere answer and Namjoon was too respectful to pry, so he had never asked again.

This time, though, I felt compelled to finally give Namjoon the full story. "He proposed to me."

Namjoon's eyes went wide with shock. "For real? When?"

"It was right after Ana's wedding. We got back to the hotel that night and he proposed. Big, diamond ring and everything."

"You hate diamonds," he said quickly, with a confused look on his face.

It felt nice to know at least my best friend remembered. "I think he forgot."

Namjoon shook his head to the side, in a 'that sucks' kind of way. "How bad was it?"

I tried to think back to the exact words I had used that night. "Well, seeing that the first words that came out of my mouth right after he popped the question were: 'This wedding is not making you think straight', I will say it was kind of bad."

"Maya…." His tone had a hint of reprimand and disappointment in it.

I groaned at recalling my bad behavior. "I know, it was not the best thing to have said. That, of course, led to a big argument. Found out we wanted two very different things. We had never really discussed the future, which is why the proposal was so out of the blue. We broke up that night."

After a moment of silence, Namjoon asked softly, "Do you mind if I ask a personal question?"

"Sure," I said without hesitancy.

He looked to think about the right words to use before he spoke up. "I thought after that breakup—because you appeared to be content and happy with him—that it was going to inspire all these songs. But the whole reason you came to Korea was that you said you had no inspiration for your music. You honestly didn't get any songs out of that breakup or relationship?"

I nodded. "These lyrics are the only ones I wrote about our breakup. I don't even think I wrote a full song during our relationship that was about him. Yeah, he inspired a few lyrics and maybe some melodies. But never a full song."

"Why did you say no? Didn't you love him?" He was very direct.

I thought about it for a moment, even though I knew the answer. "Yes. But not enough to marry. He was kind, a hard worker, got along with my family, smart, successful…and the sex was really good," I said with a laugh. I felt the need to lighten this heavy conversation.

It worked because I heard a deep chuckle from Namjoon.

"How about you, Namjoonie? Did you love your ex enough to want to get married?" It's not that I didn't want to talk about Jerry anymore, it's that this was a genuine question I had wanted to know about my best friend. And for whatever reason, I had never asked until now.

He nodded. "I did love her. A lot" He didn't look up at me but kept his eyes on the ground. Almost looking shy.

This made me feel happy. Love was such a beautiful feeling. I wanted everyone I cared for to experience it.

"What happened?" I asked. We had never really talked about his breakup.

He took a breath, still avoiding eye contact. "It was far too complicated. When it was great, it was great. But then when we were at our lowest, it seemed like the world was going to end—too dramatic. We had that attitude that 'love will save it all' kind of way. I was too naive to see that it takes more than love to make things work." There was a slight sadness in his eyes, but there was a heavy amount of serenity—he held no regrets. "In the end, we started becoming different people. Our goals were no longer the same. It ended when it needed to end."

"How long were you guys together for?" I asked, not remembering.

"Four years." It was half the time he had been in Bangtan.

Another question popped in my head, but my stomach kept me from speaking it out loud.

"What?" Namjoon asked, clearly reading me like he always seemed to.

I couldn't not ask now. "Do you miss her?"

Namjoon took a breath and appeared to think about his answer.

I don't know why my stomach felt as bad as it did, seeing his reaction. I tossed it to the stupid, idiotic crush I was trying to move past.

"Not her, necessarily. I miss being able to feel good about myself." He shook his head and made a look of slight disgust. "It's going to sound bad, but I don't see any other way of wording it. But, being with her made me feel like I was good enough. Before her, I always had this sense of almost worthlessness. Being in Bangtan has given me confidence in music, but she gave me confidence in something else." His eyes looked sad and my heart squeezed for him. "Like I said, when it was good, it was great. During our great moments, I felt on top of the world. And that's what I miss. I miss the love. And I don't think I'm going to have it again."

This threw me off. "What would make you say that?"

Namjoon's warm, sad eyes looked straight into mine. "I'm too well known. I'd have to find a girl that knows nothing about me to think she's actually interested in me. Most would probably be with me for the status."

Namjoon's insecurities and self-loathing would swim onto the surface every once in a while. He usually was good at keeping it down himself, but there were times one of his loved ones had to try to drown it themselves. It was my turn this time. "Believe me, most girls interested in you would be genuine. I say 'most', because there's always crazy bitches out there."

"Again, that's because of who I am. If I wasn't part of Bangtan, no girl would give me the time of day. I'd be too ugly for them. They would think I was too long and slim to be considered good-looking."

"Is that why you got all bulked up?" I asked, curiously.

"I think that was the inspiration behind it," he answered honestly. "But the more I worked out, the more I found I enjoyed it. Feels good. Plus, I can now eat more since it helps me build muscle."

"I can never understand you guys," I said. "All of you except for Taehyung and Hobi. I know you love your food but my dislike towards working out is greater than my love for food. I think that's why I prefer to eat healthy and box or bike rather than exercise."

Namjoon shook his head, disagreeing with how I viewed food and exercise. "My love for food led me to enjoy exercising."

We were quiet for a moment, allowing our newly discovered facts about each other to sink in. I liked how almost every day I learned something new about him.

"You were handsome before you bulked up, Moni." It wasn't often that I used this nickname with him. His old nickname I only used when I was feeling extra sentimental with him. And then, I have no idea what possessed me to say it, but I admitted something that I never thought I would. "I actually had a crush on you back then. I thought you were really good-looking."

He looked shocked and confused.

It was because of his reaction that I didn't regret being honest with him. He needed to know. Needed to realize that he wasn't the ugly duckling he thought he was. "You're pretty hot now, but you didn't have to bulk up. I always thought you were handsome."

Still looking shocked, he began to speak, "You thought of me as a kid back then. You treated me like one."

He was right. Upon first meeting them, I treated them like boys. It was the reason why it took many of us a long time to form a genuine friendship. The guys took issue with the way I addressed them—as if they were all teenagers. The maknae line enjoyed it mostly, but Namjoon, Yoongi, Hobi, and Jin made remarks on my treatment of them. In the beginning, it was what kept us from having a full, honest friendship. Due to our different cultures, we both acted in ways that prevented us from being close.

Over the years, I changed my demeanor with them. I still babied Jungkook, Tae, and Jimin occasionally, but I learned to speak to the others on a more equal level. As the eldest, I was the one who insisted on the use of banmal when we were alone. The maknae line didn't take long to convince, and my friendship with Hobi had naturally gotten to that point after a couple of years. Yoongi didn't take long to convince. But it had been Namjoon who kept up the boundaries for a lot longer. Out of all the members, it was Namjoon who was the most straight-edge and conservative when it came to manners—at least with me.

"May I remind you that you're the one who refused to drop honorifics when speaking to me? It took you years to finally drop the noona with me," I accused.

"Jungkook, Jimin, and Tae still call you noona," he threw back.

"That's different."

"How so?"

"They're like my baby brothers."

"So the rest of us aren't your brothers?" he asked with a teasing tone.

"Jin is like a friend-brother to me in the sense that we're the same age—except when he acts like a child. Yoongi and Hobi are like my older brothers," I said the phrase in English, "so them calling me noona makes no sense."

"What about me?" he asked. "Did you ever think of me as your brother?"

I could feel my face scrunching up in disgust at the thought. "Not at all."

There was a slightly hurt look on his face. "You didn't think of me as part of your family?"

"I always thought of you different than the others," I said simply.

Before he could actually get upset from my words—and not just pretending he was—I began explaining myself, "What I talk to you about, I would never be able to tell the other guys. Not even my actual brothers. There are things that I don't even share with them."

This didn't seem to make things better. "So, I'm one of your girlfriends?"

The thought of it made me giggle. "Definitely not a girlfriend. Believe me, I'm well aware you're male." My eyes automatically went to his muscular arms.

"Then what am I?" he repeated.

I smiled widely at him and made my way over to him. "My best friend. I can tell you everything. I can hang out with you all the time and not get bored. You're the person I know won't think of me as uncool when I analyze a book or a movie or a character. You don't poke fun at my journaling. You challenge me and take me out of my comfort zone. You're the reason why I like going to museums now and exhibits. I touch amphibians now because of you. I get excited about bike rides. How sad is that?"

He gave me a shy smile.

I walked over to him, glad that he wasn't bothered with me anymore, even if it had only been for a moment. "You still mad?"

He looked taken aback. "I didn't get mad."

"Good. I don't like the idea of you being mad at me," I said, feeling the corners of my mouth rising. I leaned over and poked his side.

He pretended as if I had hurt him.

I did it again.

He dodged me and took hold of my hand before I could poke him a third time. "Your giggle is cute."

I hadn't noticed I had giggled, but I smacked him with some force. "Don't call me cute. Makes me think I'm a puppy."

"But you are cute," he held both my hands away from him.

I pretended to struggle to get out of his hold. "So, I call you hot and all you got for me is cute? That's not fair." I managed to free one hand and slapped his leg.

He was still sitting on the stool. He managed to take hold of both my wrists in just one of his big hands. With the other, he pulled me against his chest and used his legs to wrap around my own legs to keep me still. I was now looking into his chocolate browns. "I also think you're hot," his volume was low, but due to my proximity to him, I heard him clearly.

I felt as if I was on one of my bike rides with him, my pulse was picking up. "Liar."

He pulled me a little closer and dismissed my words. "Especially when you braid your hair because the next day you let it down and your curls make you look pretty fucking sexy."

"Sexy?" I could feel the warmth on my cheeks now. I knew he was playing with me, but I couldn't help but hope he was being honest. It felt good to know I was attractive to him.

This fucking crush was definitely out of control now. Here I was allowing myself to fantasize.

He stopped manhandling me. His hands were holding my own and his thighs rested along my hips, no longer wrapped around me. I was now leaning onto him of my own volition. And the woodsy scent coming off of him filled my senses.

There was a sharpening and intense look in his eyes. His monolids were low as his dark irises looked intently into mine. The shape of his eyes reminded me of a dragon's, one getting ready to strike. "Very sexy. And then when you wear yellow or purple…nothing about you is cute anymore."

Looking into this predator's stare felt too intimidating, my eyes pulled away. But as they made their way down, his full lips filled my view. A smirk danced on them and I felt a need to lean further in.

But the sound of an alarm snapped me back to reality. I jumped back, startled and feeling embarrassed.

I heard a low grunt come from him when I stepped away. I walked to my phone, turning off my alarm. I had set up a reminder to be in bed by 3 AM. I had to slightly tug my hands from Namjoon's and walked over to my phone.

I took some deep breaths as I turned off my alarm. The distance between us was making me think a little clearer. "I should really head to bed."

I didn't wait for him to answer as I closed my laptop and cleaned up a little. The workshop tomorrow was going to be held here anyway, so I didn't have to disassemble anything.

"I should get some sleep too," Namjoon said as he also tidied up.

After we cleared things up in dead silence, we made our way up the stairs.

When we reached my room, I mumbled a quick "Good night." I made a step to my room.

However, Namjoon had other plans. We usually hugged goodbye at the end of the night after hanging out. But because we were going to see each other again in a few hours, I hadn't thought about hugging him. I mean, we hadn't hugged that night I had slept over at the dorms. He, on the other hand, wanted to continue our ritual.

He was so smooth I didn't notice him leaning over to wrap his arm around my back until I was in his cozy embrace. I tried to lift my hand and wrap my arms around him, but I was too in shock to move.

"Night." His voice almost sounded one with the night, so calm and still.

I felt his full lips brush against my forehead, leaving a feeling of warmth behind.

In all our years of being friends, we had only kissed a handful of times. And it had always been on top of the head, where there was plenty of hair in the way of us feeling lips against flesh. I should be questioning why he was kissing me on the forehead right now, but instead, I was wondering if he was going to wrap his other arm around me and pull me closer. Maybe lean down more to place those lips against mine.

But, as quickly as I had found his warmth against me, I found it cold as he stepped back. Even in the darkness, I saw the smirk on his face. The light glistering from the window allowed me to see the wink he gave me behind his glasses right before he went into his room and close the door.

I took a few steps back into my own room and shut the door behind me, completely baffled by what had just occurred.

Had he just put the moves on me?

That smirk, the hug, the wink…. I had seen Namjoon interact with other girls before. I could tell when he was interested and working up the courage to ask a girl out. His whole persona had felt and looked like that.

Was Kim Namjoon into me?


AN: I would really appreciate some feedback. Is there something not working? Confusion? It's been a long minute since I last posted my work, so I would appreciate some constructive criticism.