#and I think the along for the ride beauty of the quick burn weird specific morals of it all suits her SO MUCH better than perpetual grief | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

9uk · 5 years

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The Stranger I Met On The Bus

⌲ summary : Your life became a mess of colours the day you decided to leave the luxurious comfort of your home and board the same bus a wandering Namjoon was on.

⌲ pairing : namjoon x reader

⌲ word count : 12.6k

⌲ genre: slow burn......fluff, angst, smut, strangers2lovers...? or not. unrequited love but fate does it thing ye

⌲ warnings : rough times man, sexual scenes

a/n: it’s super messy & horrible i know...but i’ve been dying to get this out and i’ve been feeling all sorts of things as of late :’

“Is there something you need?” He starts, after having mulled over the reason behind your incessant gawking for long.

You blinked.

Something you need? Was there something you need? Why was he suddenly questioning you?

How are you going to tell him that he looks so much like somebody you used to know?

The both of you stayed right there, staring at each other with an equal amount of confusion.

You couldn’t take your eyes off him the first time you saw him. It was a brief, yet impactful eye contact shared. The split second his eyes locked with your own had your insides whirring like a washing machine. He looked around your age, perhaps a little older. Obvious dimples and agonisingly familiar mono lids. Something about the way he left your orbs as fast as they landed on them made you feel like something was going on.

It was too quick.

Too fast till it exposed his scheme. The guy had been watching you the whole time, and you had successfully caught him red-handed. Or maybe you were seeing things. Feeling things. Things you could not decipher what were.

Coincidence is a strange occurrence not many have in their lives. Some call it fate, but really you’d like to believe it as just pure luck. It’s baffling how a mere stranger could be the reason behind your insides shimmering with excitement again.

The bus station was bustling with business men rushing off to their destinations, families making their way back home, or even, wandering souls who have lost their sense of direction in life, travelling far away from their abodes to seek comfort in the beauty of escaping. Take you, for example. To sum it up, you were running away from some family matters back at home. Ones that require way more energy and attention than you can handle.

You were just in line to collect your ticket for the entire bus journey. Quite a long and drawn-out ride, you would say. You silently thanked your brain for the abrupt cue to bring your book along just as you stepped out of the house. 11 hours. What on earth were you going to do spending half a day coped up in a long, empty carriage?

“Nothing,” Your lips finally discovered the courage to open up and let a word out. The exchange of weirded out, perplexed faces of expression resumed.

He raises his brows slightly, expecting you to provide the actual cause as a continuation.

It was a millisecond away from him turning his head back into his own business. But a millisecond seems a tad too long for your short fused patience on a Friday morning.

“What? I said nothing.” The last word is shot like a poison dart to the neck—attack acting as the best shield—and the stranger is utterly surprised by the switch in attitude.

He gets the red-light, diverting eyes to the front in an instant and pressing his lips into a firm line. Your feistiness cooled down and regret immediately settled in as your tone replays in your head.

You absolutely hated repeating yourself and towards the man who resembled him too much, you lost all the rationality you contained. It probably looked like you were a temperamental piece of shit who obviously had some serious anger issues, making it tough to convince him otherwise. You want to apologise straight away, you really do. But you find yourself tongue-tied wondering if you should say it with the pronoun or not. By the time you’ve arrived to a decision, it was too late. Apologising a few minutes after the outburst of questionable annoyance would just seem...weird.

Like you have been thinking about him all this while.

Which isn’t true, at all.

A tiny seed of ego sprouted until you were crossing your arms in fumes, mainly irritated at your own cranky behaviour.

You swore to the heavens that you were much nicer than the nasty impression you left on him.

It was just, a slip of the tongue. At an absurdly wrong timing.

Yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him those two words that could clear your name.

Two hours of terrible attempts at falling asleep. The interaction with the handsome lad troubling the entrance of your dreams. The initial road is a bumpy one, the movements of the vehicle not coordinating with your pulse. One hundred and twenty minutes of stressing over the stranger of familiarity just inches away from you. He smelled like Seven thousand and two hundred seconds of—

“Excuse me, I want to get off.”

The lids you have been trying to press shut to let the unconsciousness close in on you flew open. Back jerking straight up, you realise you were in his way of leaving his seat.

The bus was almost empty, randomly splattered with a few passengers who did not need anything outside of this carriage. Vision a blur, you can only make out a big bright red panel that signified a gas station. He is a man patient enough to let you settle out of your trance before making space for his exit.

“Sorry.”

You snatch your purse and decided to get out of the bus as well.

From behind, a giant figure looms over yours and a sense of smallness washes over you.

Was your seat buddy always this tall?

You never noticed.

The mart at this particular gas station sucks. Out of 10, it barely even made pass 4.

You scanned the rows of snacks once more, as if doing just that would bring your cheese rings into existence. Forget about cheese rings, there weren’t even cheese balls available! The staple of snacks, king of crunches—to you, at the very least.

Shoving your hands into the pockets of your hoodie, you sighed in exasperation.

It is then you are suddenly reminded of the encounter with the guy sitting beside you.

It was time you got rid of the perpetual habit of yours to unleash your annoyance on anyone or anything.

After carefully reviewing every item under the snacks section, you ended up furrowing your brows at a bag of sour cream and onion chips. The grumble rolling off your stomach forces you to grab it off the shelf.

The kiosk is filled with people who were in the same bus as you, but yet you find yourself searching for a specific someone. You remember paying him no mind when you made a beeline for the mart, not wanting to waste anymore time from this precious brief stopover. For the familiar face that you still cannot put together the similarities. The uncanny resemblance in both their heights. It’s a funny thing because you always have a thing for guys around 6 feet tall.

The aluminium crinkles in your grasp as you fail to spot him. And there you are, left wondering about where the tall guy had went.

Placing your sole purchase onto the counter, you glanced over the lollipops decorated in a spiral. You absentmindedly stare at the wide array of bright colours with the beeping sound of your chips being scanned into the register.

Your focus seems to drift away, for you don’t seem to notice the cashier announcing the price of your potato chips.

“I’ll have this too,” Snapping out of the sandcastle building, you fish out a five dollar bill to the poor shop assistant who only just began her shift. “Thanks.”

Stepping outside, a fresh breath of wind whooshes past your face and you never felt this alive. Mainly because you’ve also never been up this early for so long and the morning air really hits different. It’s been forever since you actually witnessed the sun in its early form. It’s been also so long since you’ve had breakfast, and it being a bag of chips is fabulous and says a lot about your eating habits.

Most of the passengers are queuing for the public washroom, some are still lingering in the store heating up a grilled cheese or whatever. And so you drive yourself out of the lane and wander around with the remaining time left.

That would be a lie, truth to be told.

You weren’t just basically wandering around.

You were wandering around in hopes of bumping into that man.

Your legs brought your idling form to the corner of the walls of petrol kiosk.

You were not wholly surprised when you saw exactly what your mind pictured; him standing there leaned back against the white bricks and maybe, a cigarette in hand.

Except there was no tobacco or the cap he was wearing earlier on in sight, just him lowering the cellphone from his ear with dejection written all over his face. Did someone just relay a piece of bad news to him? Or did his girlfriend break up with him over the phone?

You stand there, taking in his gorgeous side profile and the cute tip of his nose you want to kiss. His Adam apple bobs as he swallows and tucks the phone back into the pocket of his navy pants. No one else has the ability to wear an outfit so baggy and casual and look like they belong on the runway. It’s like he knows which style suits him best and puts each piece of clothing to their fullest potential. His exposed brown locks fall over his eyes and your fingers itch to run through them and sweep his hair back.

It is in the middle of your not-so-subtle gawking when his gaze rises and falls onto you.

The expression on his face drops even further if possible, and he stumbles for the right words. The following squint of his eyes tells you that he did not thoroughly enjoy your presence. You roll the ball of the sweet in your palm nervously.

“W-Wha—How long have you been standing there?” The doubt flows out of his mouth and a clear displeasure in his tone.

Shorter than he thinks, definitely. You’ve only just arrived.

“A couple of seconds ago.”

The suspicion of you eavesdropping is not completely wiped off his face despite your answer. The despondency from before has somewhat grown into vexation, and he is ready to leave you alone in this alley.

The tension between the two of you is unbearable, like he has nothing to say to you or even annoyed by your existence while your fingers wrap around the lollipop stick even tighter.

“Hey,” You step in his way, but bodies not touching at all.

Gulping, you raise the candy in front of you.

“I-I wanted to apologise for earlier on,” You ignored the stammering and carried on. “I was being plain rude to you for no reason at all. I was having a bad morning and you just look so much like someone I used to know I-” You’re rambling and he cuts you off deadly.

“Is that all?”

Your breath hitches in your throat and you realise there’s nothing else left to say. God, the lollipop in your hand makes you feel so stupid now. He’s trying to dismiss you as quickly as possible while you wish to become acquaintances with him. You were overthinking it. He is saving the embarrassment for you. This man was driving you crazy. Firstly from how scarily similar he looks to him and second from how you wanted to know everything about him now. The impression he left on you is near perfect—patient, understanding and an offbeat sadness adorning his features.

And the impression you left on him is a horrible, distasteful one. A kind of impression you would never want anyone to have of yourself, let alone the guy who looked so ravishing and have been nothing but nice towards you.

Why would someone acting blue be any of your business?

Precisely, because it’s this guy who you caught staring at you in the bus interchange and it’s the same guy who you lashed out at and again, the guy who you are currently offering a goddamned lollipop to.

You wanted to know who he was calling and why he looked so sad. You wanted so badly to wrap him in your arms and tell him that everything’s going to be fine. The important question however, remains untouched. Why were you trying to fix somebody when you were so broken yourself? You have been so deprived of proper love and care that you want him. It’s a rash burst of infatuation for that man.

If this is what the hours at the start of the day did to your buzzed head and racing heart, you finally understand why you constantly slept in till the peace of afternoon came.

All in all, you just needed him to accept the apology and move on.

You painfully muster the courage to avert your eyes from pink ball and look up at him.

“Yeah, that is all.”

A lie, because you have so much more to say to him and is in no position to put the thoughts out like that. There was no other way to explain a peculiar connection you one-sidedly felt with him without sounding creepy as hell.

He simply takes your answer as it is and receives the strawberry lollipop from you.

The way his slender fingers brushes over the back of your hand sends a shiver straight to your spine. He was warm and cold, polite yet dismissive. A walking contradiction, truly. A contrast that has you secretly swooning over him even more.

Nonetheless, you were glad he did not shove a rejection in your face.

Of all things that you could have done, you foolishly got yourself into a predicament with him like this.

Once everyone was comfortably seated, the bus driver hops on and whirs the bulky engine to life once more.

When you returned to your seat, the wrapper had already been ripped off and the lollipop was being savoured in his mouth already. You try to hide the blooming smile on your face.

You were busy plucking the petals of a non-existent flower in your mind, contemplating at maximum whether or not you should strike a conversation with him.

If you did, you played out the different possibilities of responses he could have and how to carry on talking no matter what. It’s been quite some time since you’ve actually tried to talk to a stranger, and it was hard. But the desire to get to know him is diminishing all the worries bubbling inside you. When there’s a will, there’s a way indeed.

Rehearsing your voice in your head, you wait for the perfect timing to start speaking.

He was not doing anything much, still suckling on the ball of sugar and looking out the window.

You can’t help but admire his angelic features for a while. The cosiness of this coach granted the close proximity you had with him, allowing you to be able to catch a whiff of his smell. He didn’t smell like the sharp colognes of business men that flooded office areas, but rather, he had a soft lotion scent that was not too thick for your nose to hurt, yet subtle which has you craving for more.

Topped off with that coldness in his attitude and gentlemanly ways, you really are beginning to develop a tiny crush on him.

Very, tiny.

You have not much time left, it was easy to figure when someone was shamelessly planting their eyes on you.

He had no earpiece on, which was a good sign because you hated it when people tried to interrupt your music. And end up asking something so stupid, like your name.

“I never asked, but what is your name?”

Loud and clear, not wanting any slip-ups. The thread of tension that was initially pulled taut between the two of you seemed to have loosened on your side.

Like mentioned, you’ve actually browsed through all types of replies he could give.

He could have probed about the reason behind you wanting to know, or he could play games with you and not tell you, keeping it as a mystery unsolved so that you wouldn’t stop talking to him about it.

But no, his answer was the most difficult for the continuation of a conversation.

He is deeply distracted by the greenery outside, peeling his line of sight off the window pane and finally directing it to you.

He thinks—for whatever reason in this world you can about your own name—before gently replying.

“Namjoon.”

A blatant response which leaves you with not much options left to venture.

However, it doesn’t stop you from appreciating each syllable of his name. Nam and Joon just goes so well with each other just like how the colour of his cap matches his pants and you are naturally repeating after him, his name leaving your lips in such a blissful way. You are officially going bonkers for this man.

He doesn’t pay any more attention to you, turning to view the scenery that runs past the moving vehicle. The passing trees and blue sky are more interesting to look at than talking to you very apparently.

“That’s a nice name.” You pointed out and he flashes you a faint smile before going back to the window.

You note that he doesn’t ask for yours and an unexpected feeling of hurt thuds at your chest.

You take it as a telltale sign that Namjoon, is not interested in you like the way you are in him. All practice of the conversation gets deleted and thrown into the trash bin like a child’s silly doodling, and you sink back into your seat, trying to not feel all stupid and crestfallen.

Nothing else is said between the both of you until the next rest stop.

This time, you buy a packet of bread and a hotdog bun because it’s lunch.

He is no longer standing at some secluded corner of this new gas station, just shifting on both feet just outside the doors of this e-mart.

From inside, you spot Namjoon at the same place from before. You tear the package of the ready-made bun and observe him for a moment.

Namjoon had been repetitively trying to call someone. Each time the line reaches nowhere, his jaw clenches even harder and he tongues at his cheeks in a disputable infuriation.

Though, that is all you can see. You have yet to fully understand his actual situation.

The bells jingle as you push through the glass doors to exit.

Again, he removes the phone from his ear and angrily taps on the screen as if that would help his call get through.

“Here,” You offer him the bread. Butter flavoured, nothing too much to be disliked by anyone. You haven’t seen Namjoon eat anything from the start of the journey up till now and you are genuinely concerned about his hunger.

“Oh, no thanks. I’m not hungry.” You know that phrase too well. A statement someone would say even when they in fact are hungry, but the loss of appetite is too overwhelming for the empty stomach. The loss of appetite can be caused by several factors—like one being too bothered about something on their mind.

You retract the bread in hand from him, and fall silent.

“Do you want to use mine?”

You considered for a long moment before raising the suggestion.

The rest stop in the middle of nowhere would destroy reception for some phones, but yours could call from almost anywhere. Well, as the line contract promised.

Namjoon looks up and at last, a glint of care swirling in his orbs.

You wonder who he is trying to dial.

“Really?” It’s like he cannot believe the small offer you made, different from the other times you buy him food. You guess Namjoon really did not have a thing for food at gas stations.

“Yeah,” You click your phone to the dialling page.

“Mine should be able to get through.”

He swipes the device off your hand faster than light, not caring about the desperation he is displaying.

“Thanks.” He mumbles as he hastily keys in whoever’s number that was. It is soft, but it could still be heard.

The call seems to really manage to get through and he mouths an ‘excuse me’ before striding off to somewhere more private for the conversation to happen.

Munching away at your hotdog bun, you watch him grow frustrated as the call goes on, Namjoon crossly gesturing with his hands to try to get his point across and the locking of his jaw every time he spat out a word. Then, his eyebrows are knitted in fury, like he had just met with news of anguish. He stomps around, sometimes even yelling into your phone and at some point in time, you were afraid that he would smash your phone into pieces. The vein at his neck visibly pops and you could tell how many emotions he was trying so hard to contain. Emotions like anger, disappointment, confusion—all at once, bombarding poor Namjoon.

The person on the other end likely ended the call, for Namjoon stares ahead at a red stationary motorcycle with emptiness crowding his eyes. His lips were no longer aggressively moving to negotiate whatever that was, his hand turned motionless as well—and the phone lowers, just like the previous times. This time though, with a knowing answer and clarity clouding his glistening eyes.

His hands were tightly balled into fists and your phone almost gets crushed. Even from afar, you can see the rapid rise and falls of his chest and the grief stinging his eyes. You skipped through the hesitation and made your way over to the bull.

“Hey are you alright—”

“Thanks for the call.”

He is quick to shut you off, slamming the device onto your palm and strolls away to probably hide his moment of sorrow.

Namjoon looked more upset than anything you’d imagine. And it broke your heart to see him this unhappy.

“Namjoon!” You yelled after him.

Tracing his footsteps, his back faces you.

You can’t explain the need surging throughout you to just step forward and smooth your hand over the broad expanse of his back, the itch to calm him down and ask what was wrong. But you weren’t really in a position to do so.

The clock ticks a whole silent round before he slowly turns around with a long exhale.

The sight of his tear-stained cheeks and red eyes wrenches hard at your heart.

Strangers had boundaries, and you yearned to cross them with Namjoon.

“Do you…want a hug?” There was much nothing left on your plate that you could offer.

Awkwardly natural, the distance between your two bodies closes.

Everything afterwards happened in a blink; his head sinking heavily onto the blade of your shoulder, his arms wrapped around your body and your face smashing into his well-built chest.

Heaven, that’s the best description you can make of burying yourself into Namjoon arms.

You were supposed to hug him, and not the other way around.

He takes a deep breath, tightening his hold on you and his nose digging into your hair, making you fight back a shiver as you carefully rest your hands on his lower back. The smell of his lotion grows even stronger when you are this close to him, and you wished you could stay like this with him forever.

His breathing was still hard and you could feel his heart frantically hammering onto yours, as if having suffered a major attack.

The hug was quiet but comfortable. Everything with Namjoon felt comfortable if you even make sense.

“I needed this.” He mumbles into your skin, pulling away seconds after, causing you to cling onto every last bit of him.

The two of you returned to the bus straight away, with no words exchanged.

However, you can feel Namjoon beginning to open up to you.

Still, you’d like to take your time to understand him.

Feelings settled and heart at ease, the subject of the call and his breakdown was never broached again.

He was, as usual, peering at the outer layer of the woods along the road. Namjoon observes them with a concentration not to be disregarded.

It almost feels like he was scripting every line and carve on their barks, counting the number of leaves on each branch and watching how mighty they stood tall—which was technically impossible, but with Namjoon, one would never know.

“Ah, by the way,” You try to casually start a conversation, but at the same time you feel bad for interrupting his tree-watching session. “Where are you headed to?”

“Uh,” He hesitates, the area between his eyes scrunching up. “I… actually have no idea.”

He knew where he was going. But it looks like plans got ruined midway.

Was it because of the phone call? You promised yourself not to poke that matter. Not now.

“Huh. Same here. Probably the last stop or something.” You shrugged, nonchalant.

This huge bus was driving from the city to various locations—from small towns to farms and other districts basically.

You didn’t have a place in mind; you just needed to get out of that hellhole.

He widens his eyes at you because it is not all the time you randomly find someone as lost as you are.

Namjoon really has nowhere to go now. The most he could do would be to buy another trip back into the city—but that was the option he’d leave for last. Other than the mortifying decision to backpedal into your old routes, he could only face frontwards and hope for the best. It would be so easy to return to his hometown—which was along the way—where his parents would more than gladly welcome him with open arms, but the last thing he wanted was to become a burden to his family.

“You really don’t know where exactly you are going to?”

Taking in his words, you had to double confirm. Namjoon looked like someone who clearly knew all the directions in his life, knew for sure what to do and what not to do. Looks can be deceiving, after all.

“I wish I did.” His body turns to face you now, away from the window and the sudden attention is making you panic a little.

“Honestly, there aren’t many places I could go to either, so.” He points out, acting more like he was engaged in a conversation with himself rather than you.

At that, you could only smile in relation. Strangely, the both of you were very similar in thoughts but worlds apart in expression.

Namjoon enclosed his heart and mind, choosing the appropriate timing to open them and to specifically who. Meanwhile, you consistently let yourself out there even though you try not to, it just happens without intention. But the outgoing exterior eventually fades as you start becoming comfortable with keeping low and quiet as well. Many people would be shocked upon witnessing a whole 360 change in your demeanour, just as they would with Namjoon turning talkative.

“I wish I did too.” A light chuckle spills past your lips and as well as you are attempting to hide the misery suffocating your lungs, you don’t think you’re doing a great job at it.

Namjoon inspects your expression for a fraction, not adding on to the conversation anymore, before he throws his attention back at the greens.

Somehow, there formed an unspoken agreement between the two of you that the last stop would be your destinations.

As the trip went by, the number of passengers onboard gradually decreases, each and every one of them assured of where to alight and where they must reach. You were slightly envious of, especially the complete families who got down the bus with joy spread across their faces. They must have a home that is like a safe haven to them, one where the members could retreat to after a long day in comfort and bliss.

One you could never afford to have, despite how fortunate you were.

There was never an end to the screams and fights, the smashing of objects and the destroying of furniture like they costed nothing. The amount of terrible sleep you get every passing day, progressively shredding your sleep schedule to uneven strips.

It wasn’t until the start of spring when you arrived at a decision to leave home. School was still ongoing, but a break was urgent. Anymore of the nonsense you receive at both your workplace and home, you’re afraid you might just turn haywire and end up being sent to the mental hospital. Throw your mentally and emotionally unstable ass into the asylum—your parents had every aspect to perfectly do so.

“But miss, you can’t just leave like that.” Jungkook, one of your dad’s most trusted security personnel and chauffeur begs you to stay put in your sickening stuffy room with his undying persistence.

“Yes I can. Watch me.” He refused to open the gate no matter how hard you try to plea him and this was your final resort. Flinging your bag over the barrier, it lands on the other side of freedom with a heavy thud and that’s when Jungkook relents.

“Oh my god, Y/N!” You know he’s pissed when he says your name.

Jungkook was slightly older than you, but the both of you grew up together. The family feuds put him in an uncomfortable situation at times, but he wasn’t to step into matters as such.

Although maintained at a professional distance, it doesn’t stop him from bringing your favourite cake into the bedroom you would always be found hiding under the sheets from all that fighting. After the storm subsides, Jungkook always appeared with a cake and drink in hand to appease your frightened form, the desserts acting as a type of consolation he couldn’t provide. He was a sweet guy, but you never saw him that way. Jungkook was like an older brother to you. And he wasn’t that good at covering up his silly crush on you.

“Fine!” He unlocks the gate in the most passive-aggressive way ever and you only giggle.

You have him wrapped around your finger and it was no doubt an advantage to you could use all the time.

“Stay safe, regardless.”

You hold both his hands in the most dramatic way ever, swaying up to him like a Disney princess.

When you lean in close to his face, Jungkook is rendered speechless, a flushed mess.

“I will and thank you.” You hum sweetly and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

“Byeeeeee!” You sing and happily leave the stifling confines of the house, as well as an embarrassed Jungkook standing rooted to the ground.

Your eyes never leave Namjoon on the third rest stop.

The both of you sat in the convenience store, devouring bowls of instant ramen.

You wonder how one phone call can lead to all of this.

Everything Namjoon did was hurtingly adorable to you. Your heart twisted in a wickedly joyful manner when he furrowed his brows. You swear your eyes were pooling with endearment when his cheeks were stuffed full of noodles. The type of attraction you were having for Namjoon was fascinating, like never before. A kind of flower you’ve never had blooming wildly in your chest for a long time. You wonder how he feels about you. Whether he sees you in the same light or not.

The bowls sitting in front of the two of you are now empty, stomachs filled with content.

You stared at Namjoon and Namjoon stared back at you, your eyes never averting because you feel like you could drown in his pretty brown orbs forever. Namjoon breaks the contact and raises a question before you could.

“Is your shampoo jasmine?” He flickered his gaze to your hair, arms coming up to rest on the small table barely enough for two. His face suddenly grows bigger, featuring becoming clearer as the gap in between is shortened.

“Yeah,” You breathed out when he moving towards you. He was leaning so close to your face, you feel yourself unknowingly reversing a little.

Then, everything vanishes and he relaxes back on the chair again.

“And h-how did you know?”

“Someone I used to know.” His voice comes out quiet.

The both of you grabbed lollipops before returning to the coach.

This was the final stretch before the journey ends, the longest one amongst the rest and the fatigue is starting to consume you whole, eyelids feeling heavy.

You don’t know how or when, but a shoulder is pressed to your cheek as hand lightly shakes you.

“We’re here,” He says, stirring you awake.

The driver is long gone, in the restroom or something.

You jump off the coach, butt and neck feeling sore.

The two of you stood in front of a shredded motel.

“Looks like we’ll have to make do.”

The room was smaller than it could have already been, the ceiling paint flaking like horrid dry skin and the cream wallpapers looked like they were going to crumble into dust by a touch of the finger. The first blow is delivered to the layer of glass, cracks beginning to form in the center. Something smells. There’s a distinct stench lingering in the atmosphere of this room. Your eyes dart over to the bathroom. A dirty sock naps comfortably on the rusty towel rack—no, hibernates—because the navy piece of laundry seems to be having the time of its life stinking up possibly the entire motel with its century-old odour.

You switched your life goal to become as unbothered as that abandoned sock.

A second hit to the fragile material, completely falling apart but still you try your best to hold it together for the sake of Namjoon’s optimism.

“Sure we do.” You mumble, but it is amplified in the tiny space.

The volume of your voice was one thing, but Namjoon feels more gigantic than ever, his large frame towering over yours and unknowingly you shrink. He looked so much bigger than you noticed from before and it is evident that you have definitely been noticing him for quite a bit. It must be the size of the room, and not the rapid blossoming of your attraction for him.

The only bed sandwiched between both your standing forms was yet, another issue to be solved. There wasn’t even a couch to be spared, you had to place your bags on the crusty floor. You can’t even hide the grimace crumpling your features when you spot a black dot faded under the white sheets, crawling its way to the pillow. That sight itself, shattered the already broken glass pane of tolerance into fragments.

“Trust me when I say this isn’t the worst I’ve seen.”

Namjoon chirps in, trying to lift the frown off your disgusted face. “Honestly, for a place beside a gas station, this is-”

“Not okay at all.”

You arrived at a decision. And that is to get the hell out of this trash can before Namjoon’s witty tongue and strong cologne persuades you otherwise.

An idea flashes in your mind.

No one would have guessed that you were the daughter of a pair of millionaire parents.

Dressed humbly in a hoodie and leggings, you passed off as any other normal person. You did not fancy the wealthy status plastered onto you since birth. Instead, you actually wished for a simple, blissful life. It was true that money could solve most problems, but you were seeking for another kind of happiness. A happiness so genuine and pure. The grass is always greener on the other side. You weren’t planning to let Namjoon know about your family background at all, but the circumstances the both of you were caught in left you with no other choice.

As soon as you laid your eyes on the bed bug having the time of its life under the sheets, you boldly grabbed Namjoon’s hand and flew out of the musty motel.

The sun was already diving into the horizon, daylight beginning to feel insufficient.

The haggard old man manning the petrol kiosk watches the two of you exit the rundown building and if your vision did not fail you—he sniggers to himself.

Namjoon seems to have noticed this as well, head still turned to face the disheveled man after the two of you made your way to the grass patch by the main road. You stare at Namjoon looking at the man. He was unpacking some boxes of food, and you wonder what is so intriguing about that that Namjoon can’t peel his eyes off of him.

“It’s not easy,” He finally faces front, upon reaching the road. You tuck your fists into the warm pockets of your hoodie.

“What is?”

“Working at a gas station.” Namjoon mumbles lowly, fallen deep in thought.

You contemplate for a while before choosing to not say anything to that. You don’t know how to reply to that anyway.

The air outside was not the freshest, but it was heaven to your lungs compared to the interior.

Your first instinct was to call Jungkook.

This subconscious behaviour of yours has yet to be eradicated, and you figured it must have to do with the fact that Jungkook was the man who could do anything and everything in your eyes. Plus, he was someone you turned to habitually whenever you were met with a crisis. Major or minor.

“Y/N! You better get your ass home by midnight or else your father will behead me!”

“Woah, chill Jungkook. Can you help me see if there are any decent places nearby to stay at?”

Jungkook could easily track you down, a feature your parents granted him to better watch over you.

“What in the world are you doing there?!”

“Sorry. But please help me?” That is all you can provide. Namjoon raises a brow at your conversation over the phone. Darkness was racing to swallow the sky whole and there was not much time left for you to find shelter. You mentally prepared yourself for a sleepless night ahead.

“You’re kidding. There is literally nothing but dirt on that piece of wasteland. What did you expect? One of your father’s lavish villas to pop out magically in front of your eyes?” Jungkook sounds extremely frustrated with the situation you landed yourself in. What he doesn’t and wouldn’t need to know, is that you have someone by your side.

“However…”

All hope is not lost.

“Tell me more about this fantastic idea of yours.” Namjoon’s incessant questioning sparks an urge in you to just go up to him and shut him up with a kiss. Out of annoyance, of course. Containing the thought, you continue denying him of an answer.

“Just wait and see,”

You can’t believe it slipped your mind that the last stop was on the outlines of this town, which meant that the sea was close.

The beach that barely had any visitors was probably just a few miles away from this polluted gas station. The only staff who worked there was the old man from before reaching seventy, unkempt appearance for wandering spirits in this isolated town to see.

The place was derelict and untidy. Litter scattered across the road and the walls reeked of rotten flesh.

Finally, the sea approaches you and Namjoon. Compared to the gas station, the area wrapping the beach was spotless and your mouth falls open slightly. Walking towards the edge of the small cliff, down below laid the fine sand that reflected the dusty evening glow who’s rays of pink and purple are slowly overshadowing the initial golden.

It was then you realised the sun had never meant to eagerly head to bed, it was instead fighting against time, refusing to fade into the sea line this early.

Namjoon must be as struck as you are by the sight, for he doesn’t say a word, only calmly tracing your steps.

The both of you sat on the short grass, quietly admiring the sunset-tainted coast and watching the waves accumulate strength each time it leaves and arrives.

Legs dangling in the air and bags thrown on the ground, you wonder when a time like this would ever happen again. The orange sky gently toasting your eyes and the prickly sensation on the hamstrings. A guy who resembled your ex-boyfriend sitting by your side. A possible tent in your backpack.

A smile stubbornly grows on your face and you let out a soft giggle at the strange events of today, shaking your head at the foolishness.

“What’re you gleaming about?”

The tranquility is not broken by his voice, only further accentuating it.

“Huh? Oh. Nothing much really, haha…just everything maybe,”

You turn your head to look for his reaction at your contradiction and his eyes capture yours in bewilderment.

“I see. Don’t worry, I understand.” He smiles and the world vanishes, your heartbeat—the only thing you can feel.

“Sometimes the only thing you can do is laugh. When everything’s too painful, when everything’s too joyous, when everything’s going downhill or when everything’s so…serene.”

His fingers clutches onto a random stone and he begins meddling with it.

“Maybe all at once.” You lean back a little, easing into the conversation.

Namjoon chuckles.

“Sometimes though, you gotta vent it out!”

He swings his arm back and throws it forward, catapulting the innocent stone into somewhere in the salty water. It disappears from sight, so you would never know.

When the second-hand hit a quarter to eight, the moon’s motherly appearance persuaded the mischievous yolk to fully drop into the ocean. Nightfall pays a visit.

The possible tent in your backpack.

The only times you have ever slept outside of the neatly painted walls of your enormous room (excluding the walk-in wardrobe), would be sleeping over in the marvellous pink doll house bedroom belonging to your best friend. That counts…right?

There were a few camps here and there in your entire education journey. The thrill of water rafting with the bumpy rocks, the struggles of kayaking and capsizing in the dirty river, the tall grass that crept up your knees and the mud your track shoes sank into. You wish you knew how all of those felt, because every time your class was required to have the time of their lives in a camp site, your teacher would never pass you a consent form for that. Dejected, you already knew the reason behind the disallowing of your participation. It was too harsh for your body and health, they’d always repeat to you and you would stomp to your bedroom and make a mess out of your sheets with piping hot tears.

You hate living a sheltered life. You detested it, even though some may cry for days to have a pampered life like yours. Call it ungrateful, but you would rather live a simple life with simple happiness. Because money may be the manifestation of bliss, but it also creates problems that it itself cannot be able to solve.

However, money helped Jungkook to create this circular object to pop into a tent once you push the button located inside the mechanism.

“Why and how do you have this?” Namjoon sends you a questionable look.

“Don’t ask. I…uh, like to come prepared.”

You lied. Jungkook sneaked this compacted tent into your bag without you even knowing.

But he informed you about it over the phone and it came in handy at the very least.

“Well then, go ahead and press the activation button.”

“Erm…” You hesitated. What if this was some kind of abduction assistance for Jungkook to bring you back home to your fuming parents?

“I’m having second thoughts about this—Wait no!”

Namjoon yanks it out of your hands and slams the button.

The sphere starts beeping, a red light flashing on the top.

Paranoid, you subconsciously grab onto Namjoon’s hand like you always did to Jungkook when your father raised his voice.

A loud noise erupts from the transformation, and you screw your eyes closed in fear.

The round device jumps and explodes harmlessly, the surfaces opens and nylon sheets are spiralled out into the shape of a tent.

“Y/N,” Namjoon squeezes your hand.

“I think it’s done.”

The both of you view the tent, then the interlocked fingers.

Redness graze your cheeks and Namjoon clears his throat.

You quickly let go and step to inspect the inflated tent.

You silently thanked Jungkook as your body plopped onto the clothed base. Lying on the thin material with the cold ground just beneath it, you are able to feel the earthiness seeping through your skin and the softness of the soil as a bedding. The feeling was no match to the fluffiness of your blankets and bouncy mattress.

Namjoon had gone out to grab booze and a couple of ready-made food from the store earlier and you happily agreed. You haven’t got much of a choice actually, but you were grateful for an opportunity like this with him.

A buzz coming from behind interrupts your stargazing session, you pull your sight away from the deep black sky to realise that it was your phone.

Curiosity overruling your judgement, you reached for the phone.

It was a text from an unknown contact.

Your eyes doubled in size at the series of notifications.

Visiting the petrol station again caused a bitterness to rise up his throat.

He wonders if he will end up like the old man behind the counter in the future.

Namjoon was an aspiring producer and lyricist.

He hasn’t shot to fame with his completed works yet, but he has a strong belief that he eventually will, one day. He struggles with the low income the job as a gas pump attendant, taking care of his ill-stricken mother who had been diagnosed with lung cancer as of last year and all hope seemed to be lost.

The news came off as no surprise to him because his mother turned into a heavy smoker after his father abandoned the pair of mother and son for some other woman. The nicotine helped her relieve her stress and depression that consumed her heart, so Namjoon as a young boy couldn’t really say anything to stop his broken mother.

His only parent had insufficient funds to further continue his education after high school so he was left with no options but to work many part-time jobs to support himself.

As time flew by, Namjoon grew into a man that had no direction in life.

He worked in a polluted environment, paid for his mother’s chemotherapy, ate, slept and wished he’d never wake up to see the light of day again.

His apartment was filthy and small, but he was barely keeping up with the rent payments on time. Medical bills placed a huge burden onto his shoulders but he could not give up on his only family who always looked at him with sympathy and hatred.

Hatred because she had told him that life would be much better without her, and Namjoon was stubborn in not willing to let her life end even if it was for good.

His girlfriend did not improve the situation of his life.

If anything, she only worsened it.

She blamed him for being incompetent and unable to bring her happiness as a boyfriend.

She constantly gave degrading remarks and once mentioned that she felt humiliated by him. If anything, she made him feel shittier about his life than he already was.

She was toxic and he knew it but he was still unable to cut ties with someone who loved him back and was willing to stay with him for so long.

He was a man of strong will and he believes that once he succeeds in his ambition, all the problems he was facing at that moment would disappear.

His girlfriend would stop looking at him like he was a loser and his mother would recover faster in a cleaner and better environment.

This week was a turning point in his life.

His mother overdosed and Sunbin cheated on him a few days after.

To think that his own mother gave up on herself and him when he persevered was heart-breaking. Losing his only kin drove him to the point of insanity.

Beyond devastated, he was a step away from falling off the roof of his apartment.

But something about the bright full moon watching over him that night tweaked his decision.

The wind caressed his cheeks as a form of consolation and the stars sang in the gloomy moonlight for him.

Namjoon thinks, that maybe the occurrence of these events was a sign.

Maybe the heavens were trying to tell him something.

He climbed up the wall of his dead end and saw something greater.

His strength was back when he stepped down from the platform.

That is why the morning after he was at the bus station, waiting for the vehicle that will carry him around to clear his thoughts.

Being on a long bus ride relaxed him and for some reason, made his heart feel at ease.

Perhaps it was the trees passing by or the sun that stayed still in position when he was moving, but it filled him with happiness to distance away from the cruel reality for a while in the comfortable seats of a bus. Bus rides were so peaceful and he enjoyed them to the fullest every time without fail.

As he tossed the lollipop stick into the trash bin, his eyes skim across the people at the station, it hooked onto a book he had been wanting to read for a long time.

Jung’s Map Of The Soul: An Introduction was a book that summarises Jung’s vision of psychological and spiritual life.

He hadn’t got the time or money to think about a book, but now that he had seen the actual copy, he was intrigued.

His gaze travel up to the owner of the book, then to the book, then to your face again.

He wasn’t gawking creepily or anything, but your features were rather beautiful. Not that he went up straight to your face and told you that. But he stared for a while, switching between the book and you before minding his own business again.

Looking at you reminded him of his past and only girlfriend. A book in hand, warming her hands over a cup of coffee as he strikes a conversation with her over the book. Later on he found out that she was not into reading at all, and the precious book was a prop in her scheme to get Namjoon to notice her. He didn’t express the wryness he felt tugging at his insides, but he was a little shocked by her deceiving appearance. He wonders just how many more things she was hiding about herself. The only exception with you is that he did not walk towards you.

His girlfriend had just left him.

Sunbin called and he tried his hardest to not care.

It was impossible. He had to hear her out, know what exactly he did wrong, where it all started.

When you lent him your cellphone he keyed in her number like it was the only thing he memorised by heart and frustratedly waited for her answer.

Sunbin was the type to lie in order to achieve whatever result she wanted, but when Namjoon demanded the truth or she was exposed, she would tell him things from the bottom of her heart.

It was after her true explanation behind her abandonment of the relationship that Namjoon lowers the phone in hand and ends the call with a cold farewell.

It wasn’t anything that had to do with her character. It was about the money and status.

That was the time she informed him about how ashamed she was when she introduced Namjoon to her parents or told her friends about her boyfriend.

Namjoon realised that he had nothing to say about that, only silently agreeing and nodding in understanding.

But he wished that his own girlfriend would have a little more faith and pride in his passion and dreams. Not to the point where she’d went out and slept with another man.

His heart broke even more when she confessed that she brought the man home to meet her parents instead of him because he was more capable, as she stated.

Namjoon loved her like she was his everything and yet, she treated him like nothing.

Sunbin made him question his worth and drive all the time. He should be grateful that the poison in his life had been removed.

The third time you try to talk to him, he gave in to your advances.

Namjoon was just going to let whatever happen happen, not purposely going out of way to shut you out or anything.

He was single and available.

He could do anything he wanted now like a man with freedom now.

He’s got nothing to lose.

Namjoon returns with some greasy mac ’n cheese and some bottles of beer.

He finds you inside, full attention on the book that you did not even realise he entered.

The temperature was dropping and the inside of the tent felt as cold as outside.

“Don’t you find it a little cold?”

He ducks and steps inside with bags of food and drinks.

You put your book down.

“Do you want me to set up a fire or something?”

He pauses, fighting back a smile.

Before challenging you.

“Do you even know how to?”

He snickers and takes out the container, allowing the smell of cheese to roam the confined space.

“Right…you have a point.” You pout, the imaginary little campfire bursting like a bubble popped in your head.

Something even better comes to mind.

“Maybe we can… cuddle or something.”

Namjoon freezes, unable to make proper eye contact with you.

“It’s a friendly suggestion.”

You say that, but your eyes glimmer with hope and admiration for him.

After a long awkward moment, Namjoon seems to have set his mind onto something when he finishes his meal.

“We’ll see about that. Here,” He hands you one of the bottles of booze and you gladly accepted it.

The two of you sit at the exact spot from before, this time with the company of the moon and stars.

Namjoon looks at them like he did with the trees and you concluded that this man must carry a deep love for the nature.

“I have a question,” You take a swig of the beer to give yourself alcohol courage.

Should you ask it now? Or are you taking things too fast, considering that you’ve only met this man today and letting him know that you would give him the world?

“Moon or stars?”

You ask quietly, careful to not ruin the placidity of the hushed waves and bristling trees.

“The moon.”

“Why?” You chuckle at how his reply was almost instantaneous.

“The moon, you see. Stars, there are plenty of them. But the moon is the one and only. It may sound quite stupid to you, but I like special things. Especially when people don’t pay much mind to them…little things. Like the moon.”

You watch and listen to him speak attentively.

The moon isn’t exactly little, but you hold back your interruption to let him finish.

“Everybody is so caught up with their business—be it work or play—that they don’t care about the little things that much anymore. One day, if the moon turns slightly yellow, probably five in a hundred people would only notice. The rest don’t take the time to look at the surroundings, the peaceful nature that is with them in life. Which is quite sad actually. Why is stargazing so popular but moongazing isn’t? They come in a package, it’s unfair to exclude her from the word.”

At that, you burst out into laughter.

“That makes sense,” You laugh again. “Stars appear and disappear all the time, that is why. The moon…well, the moon is sort of always just there. People tend to take these things for granted you see.”

Namjoon turns to face you, allured by your explanation.

“Why do you think it’s whale watching and not fish watching?”

You tilt your head at him, providing an analogy.

“Because we don’t see whales all the time…” He mutters, staring into the distance as if he had just got a math equation figured out.

“Precisely. It’s a strange world.”

You were different.

It was silly of Namjoon to automatically assume that you were the same as his ex-girlfriend, because the both of you were total opposites.

She would have just actively dismissed him before he even started on his thoughts on the topic—no, she wouldn’t even ask a question like that.

Namjoon was sure that she did not even know about his love for the moon.

And here he was, with a stranger he met on the bus, pouring out his opinions and questions about stars and moons. He felt like he was on cloud nine to be able to talk to someone so comfortably about something so random. Something that not many would even give two hoots about.

Your fingers drum on the surface of the ground, your hands propping your body to sit upright on the edge of the cliff.

“Then,” You start again.

“Desert or sea.” You point out to the ocean, which was barely even visible under the shade of night.

“Can I choose beach?” Namjoon chortles, placing his hands behind as well to lean back, brushing over yours accidentally.

His fingers graze and land over your smaller ones, his big hand trapping yours in an almost uncertain way.

He didn’t move, you didn’t move. He just let his hand rest near yours, slightly touching but never mentioned.

You shake your head in response, grinning.

Namjoon was just about to answer with the latter but you beat him to it.

“I’d say desert. When you have everything… it could just drown you.”

You say this and bite on your lip, like having everything actually hurt you before.

Namjoon disagrees, a man who tasted the feeling of losing everything.

“Having nothing is just as equal.” He rebuts, washing the sadness stinging in his veins with a full mouth of beer.

Like a man suffering a drought.

A silence of mutual understanding blankets the conversation, staring at the glittery sky and listening to the rushed waves of the sea, and drinking booze.

Unconsciously, you slip nearer to him.

Blame the alcohol, because the feeling of his thigh touching yours was electrifying.

Somewhere into the slow night, you and Namjoon talked about all sorts of stuff without returning to the tent. The night breeze was cooling to the skin and you enjoyed it very much. Still, your thighs were still touching but no one got onto each other’s lap or avoided the skin contact. You placed the last bottle down carelessly, the clanking of it against the hard rock warning you of the close breakage—but honestly you couldn’t care less.

Namjoon was on his third bottle of Soju and you were on the second, but the answer was clear as to who was the lightweight.

“I think lobsters are immortals,” You made a brave statement, puffing out your chest.

“I think the fuck not, Y/N.”

You never liked your name being called by someone this much.

The way it perfectly flows out of his mouth, his thick voice and blank expression. Heat began creeping up to your cheeks—you’re unsure if it’s from the anger of retorting or your name on his lips.

You’re a little tipsy to be thinking coherent thoughts, but screw sobriety.

“Technically, there is evidence—”

“Oh, why don’t you just shut up and own some crabby petties?” You sassed back at him, ignoring his substantial proof of lobsters dying of age.

“And, leave. My. Lobsters. Alone.”

You draw your face closer to his as you tell him that, the realisation of the proximity between both your lips not dawning right on you yet.

You were in the middle of a discussion on crustaceans with him, and suddenly your face was pulled so close to his own.

Namjoon looks you in the eyes, something fiery can be sensed through his brown orbs and you can feel his breath on your cupid’s bow.

His gaze kept flickering between your lips and your eyes, and you dark your tongue out to lick at them, feeling slightly self-conscious.

Then, he makes home at your eyes.

“Did you just make a pun,”

His voice falls an octave, a hint of raspiness hidden behind his throat.

Both your bodies were leaning so close to each other now, arms behind each other’s backs to keep near.

“Yeah I did. So what.” You breathed out shyly yet your words bagged a heavy tut. You were surprised that you even managed to form a response being this close to Namjoon.

You swear your nose was bumping onto the tip of his now, the one you had so badly dreamt of kissing from the gas station earlier on.

You fired the last question.

“Kiss or be kissed,”

And your heart lurches when he steals the period of the sentence away, by dipping his head to snatch your breath away.

He was nothing like the kisser you imagined with those plump lips; rough, urgent and sensual all at the same time. Namjoon slants his lips with yours fervently, hand coming up to hold your neck firmly as he kisses you.

Fluttering your lids shut, your place your hands on his firm chest before smoothing them up to wrap around his neck. The action made him growl lowly before lunging onto your body like a beast starved.

A light whimper leaves your throat as he moves his lips rhythmically against yours, teeth clashing and breaths exchanged. Your moans in his mouth seem to encourage him further, but still his tongue makes no appearance.

He knew how to take things fast and slow at the same time, and you loved every moment of it.

Namjoon gains full control over you by tilting your head the angle he wants to devour you and he melds his lips with yours like you were going to disappear by the second.

He had pushed you onto your back onto the rock platform already, whole body caging yours when he finally breaks away.

You were a panting mess from his rushed kissing, lips swollen from how hard he had bit onto it and hair slightly tousled from his fingers running through it.

“Kiss. I want to kiss you all night.”

Inside you beamed like the brightest star alive and this time, it was you who captures his lips again.

Namjoon tasted like a mixture of bitter and sweet, he was soft in his actions but his mouth was relentless.

It took you a lot of willpower—with his face stuck to yours and hands caressing your jaw— but you succeeded in pushing him away to get inside.

“Namjoon,” You barely pronounce his name right, because he takes your gesture as a sign to continue his ministrations on your jaw.

“Do you wanna go into the tent instead?”

He plants a final kiss onto your lips before standing up and offering you a hand.

The buzz invites itself onto your phone once again and you internally groaned, wishing he’d heard nothing.

“I think that was your phone,” He alerts you, and you pretend to not care.

“It’s nothing important.” You say as you lean in and press your lips against his cheeks.

He shoves you away gently.

“Wait, what if it’s for me?”

“Nam—“

In no time, he let go of your hand and went on his knees to search for the resounding device.

The same cold Unknown flashed on the screen and you tongued at your cheek.

Namjoon stares at the phone for a while, biting the inside of his cheek in contemplation.

“I…I have to take this,” He stammers and it was all you needed.

You reach for his hand and held it calmly.

“Don’t,” You have no idea what you trying to tell him but you knew that he should never pick up.

“You looked so pained whenever you’re on that call…”

His hair reflected a streak of gold under the mini lamp and his features were so dangerously beautiful. He was still, in one way or another, a stranger to you but you were eager to learn about his world and dive into the deepness of his soul.

You could feel it—from the bus station, to the gas pumps and now by the beach with him—that he was so lost and broken, just the way you were.

You wanted to be the light to guide him out of this darkness but he always deemed it impossible by returning to the old ways.

“Then why are you here?” You take a step, decreasing the space between.

“Isn’t the purpose of this whole short escapade to renew and start afresh?”

You released a sigh, not navigating where exactly this was headed towards.

“It’s your life… It’s yours to decide.”

He doesn’t look at you, only thinking about it hard.

That is before he returns the phone to you and mumbles that he’ll head to bed first.

You rarely stopped yourself from asking questions when curiosity consumed you. But when it came to Namjoon however… you stay silent.

You did not want to intrude more than you should, but you also knew that Namjoon, the guy you’ve been crushing on since the start of the bus ride, would never open his mouth unless you asked him to.

Seeing Namjoon being so despondent reminded you of your situation with your family.

Thoughts about your parents, Jungkook, Namjoon…Namjoon.

The way he kissed you a few minutes ago soared you to heaven temporarily.

Was he ever this attracted to you as you were all along?

The more you think, the more things seemed bizarre and did not make any sense at all.

You wonder what sparked the sudden urge to pounce onto you like he did last night when he wouldn’t even spare you a proper glance on the bus.

You did not want this day to end on bad note.

If this was the first and last time with him, you wanted to make it worth while.

“So…you don’t mind cuddling, do you?”

The body beside you stirs awake.

Seems like you were not alone in failing to catch some sleep.

Namjoon doesn’t reply to that, only proceeding to finally wrap his arms firmly around you. You resist the squeak of excitement popping out of your chest as you feel his muscular chest press against your back. He hums in response, the low vibrations travelling down your spine and you fight back a shiver. Namjoon seemed too tired to say anything else.

You keep still, not wanting any small movement to disrupt his rest.

He falls asleep in two seconds while you carry on with your attempts.

You couldn’t sleep despite the fatigue rinsing you and draining your head of any sensibility.

Clamping your lids shut, you try to focus on the rhythm of your breathing instead to ease yourself into a slumber as well. This time, it twitches against your ass and you can no longer close one eye to the situation at hand.

Bucking your hips back into his, he involuntarily lets out a deep groan at the feeling. Whether he was still in his sleep or not, the noises Namjoon made sent your mind spiralling into a pool of lust.

His dick grows even harder, pushing against the material of your shorts.

“Namjoon,” You try to flip over to face him, but failing to do so as he steadies you in place.

“Namjoon,” You whine in protest, the feeling overwhelming and you have to do something about it.

The second call of his name stirs him slightly awake, hand accidentally sliding down the curve of your thigh and a shudder rumbles throughout your body as he touches the sensitive skin. He seems to get the reaction, doing it again, and this time skimming over the inside of your thigh. He’s doing this on purpose, to tease you to the end of your wits and you are not going to lie there and take it.

You swear you were about to throw yourself over and pin his cheeky hands down, but he beats you to it by a step. His lips ghosts over the shell of your ear, grip tightening on your thigh and you let loose completely.

“What is it that you want so badly,” His mouth travels to the exposed skin of your neck, tongue darting out to give you small licks. “That you keep waking me up?”

“W-Why do you have a boner?”

“It happens when I’m tired.”

“Oh,” You blinked, remembering the feel of it against your ass.

Long, thick and heavy. Throbbing, even. You couldn’t register the fact that you were salivating as he crashes his lips onto yours once more, savouring all of you.

“I want you to fuck me so good, Namjoon.”

He shoots his head up from the curve of your neck, expression laced with confused and shock.

“No pressure.” You blurt out to save yourself when he stares at you like you’ve made a bad joke.

“Say that again.”

He startles you by using his fingers to rub circles onto your clothed clit.

You let out a squeak when he applies more pressure onto the sensitive nub, drawling a moan to spill from your lips.

“What do you want?”

He’s getting impatient, shoving your panties to the side and sliding a finger inside of you.

You sighed and held onto his shoulders when he started pumping the digit in and out of your wetness.

“Can you fuck me please?” You look him in the eye as you say this, making him hiss and groan in satisfaction.

“Since you asked so nicely…”

His finger picks up a rapid pace, your juices smeared messily over his hand.

“Fuck baby, you’re so wet already…”

He sticks his tongue out and you oblige by sucking on his wet muscle.

Shortly after, he replaces it with his soaked finger and you take the whole length of his finger into your mouth and swirled your tongue around it.

Namjoon feels more blood rush to his cock if that is even possible, because he is so hard, he doesn’t even know if he can feel his dick.

You slowly let your oversized shirt fall off your shoulders, sliding down to expose your breasts.

Namjoon rips the shirt apart instead and latches his mouth onto a hardened nipple.

He cups the other breast in one hand, passionately massaging it while his other hand runs up and down the slickness of your heat.

“Everything about you…Mmm—so perfect…” He hums and sucks on your breast.

You were going to explode.

He was touching you in so many places at once, his hard length brushing against your torso occasionally and his hands possessively roaming over every inch of your skin.

“Namjoon,” You whined out to him again, wanting more than just touching and kissing.

“Turn around,” He commands deeply and you hurry to his desired position, giving him a full view of your ass.

He slaps it on instinct, before coming up to rub the sting away.

Namjoon doesn’t give you a heads up before sliding his cock into you easily.

Screaming, he starts off rough like his kisses and you can’t help but feel tears pricking at the corner of your eyes.

The pain was forced into pleasure as he continued to piston his hips into you relentlessly, the thickness stretching you out and filling you up so good.

As he slammed into you harder and harder, you felt like you were being used as a sex toy. Like he was only venting in the sex with you.

You hated it, but it still felt impossibly good and irresistible.

“Ah, god. You feel so fucking tight—argh!” He moans and you clench around him even more at the noise he made.

“N-Namjoon,” You repeated his name for as many times as you could, enjoying the way you can call him like that, in this manner.

Namjoon was close. He could feel it just by seeing you sprawled out naked for him, ass up and head smashed onto the pillow. The way your ass jiggled every time his hips smacked onto them, the pretty little noises you made with every thrust.

The way his name sounded falling from your lips.

He came inside of you, right after you climaxed with the help of the rubbing of your clit with your own fingers and the both you plopped down next to each other, beat from the sex.

Moments like these; him lying next to side half-naked and smiling away about nothing at all, and the small giggles that erupt from your lungs, the accidental light grazes of his hand over yours, his dimpled smile that rarely showed up.

When you wake up to the sun that glared fiercely through the nylon sheets of your temporary shelter, Namjoon was watching you.

Jumping back, you grab the blanket as a form of protection.

“What… are you doing here?!”

He looks down, trying to contain his laughter.

“Wait, where am I?”

The memories start running back to you piece by piece and you nod in realisation.

“Ah, right.”

Namjoon flashes the last of his full smile that is equivalent to the sun.

Moments like these, are short-lived.

“Y/N,” He says, tone somehow serious but casual.

“I’m leaving.”

You gather yourself and listen.

“Last night, was spectacular.” He tells you confidently. A shade of coral brushes over your cheeks.

“Not just…that, of course. I really enjoyed every second spent with you and I’m so glad you came into my life. Even if it was just for a night. Or day, whatever.”

Because nothing ever goes smoothly in life.

Even Alice had to leave Wonderland.

“I’m going to find her and get her back.”

Happiness was still something you were going to continue searching for, while Namjoon fights for his own.

“Oh,” It’s all you can reply, your head a pool of thoughts, words, feelings and emotions. But you wouldn’t voice them out. You couldn’t.

“Goodluck. I had a fun time as well.”

Even though you wished for more.

“I hope you’ll be heading wherever you need to be as well?”

Namjoon stretches his hand out and you slap it.

He was inserting all this platonic gestures to not make it feel weirder than it already is.

“Yeah. Will be on my way.”

You can already sense a Jungkook driving his way here to pick you up according to the summon of your father. While Namjoon will look for his lover and seek the clarification he needs.

In fact, the both of you will be on your separate ways now.

This, is where the true journey of a bus ride with him, ends.

It’s been exactly ten weeks since your strange encounter with Namjoon.

An encounter that consisted of almost everything an adventure had in store.

All of this is not a coincidence , you like to believe.

Every single time you were on a bus, you can’t help but wonder if Namjoon would magically pop out and turn your life downside up. Cause the butterflies in your stomach to form again. You want to know what he’s doing. If him and his girlfriend are well now.

Even as of right now, you can’t help but anticipate the next bus ride to happen, rejecting Jungkook’s offer for a ride.

At night, you cannot sleep without thinking about the moonlight that shines in his eyes.

The way your name falls from his lips.

His soft touches and gentle caresses.

His sweet and plump lips with his big hands on your hips.

As much as you’d like to forget, no one has ever brought you to close to euphoria before.

It was considerably the happiest moment in your stagnant life.

Being with Namjoon made you feel like achieved something great. The strong thumping of your heart, the words that flowed so smoothly out of your mouth, your jumbled thoughts coming together perfectly with him around.

It just felt so right.

A tap on your shoulder caused you to remove an ear bud.

“Excuse me, miss. Is this seat taken?”

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