#bestfriendturnedlovers

[mae-gi-writes]

We’re Just Friends (RM/Namjoon x OC): Part One

Synopsis: In which Namjoon and Yehwa have been best friends since childhood, until Namjoon falls in love with one of their classmates. Cue the drama. 

Part: One | 

When I was little, my mother used to tell me that confiding everything to a single boy was a bad idea.

I couldn’t understand where her logic had come from.

But now, maybe I do.

Scratch off the maybe part, I really do understand what she means by that.

“Please Yehwa,” I can see the desperation embedded in Namjoon’s features as he begs for me to lend him a copy of my homework, just because he does not understand the simple concept of French Grammar and had totally ignored the homework given by the teacher yesterday just before the bell rang, his desire to go skate getting the best of him. And now, he’s on the brink of breaking into a sweat, either that or having a panic attack. It’s understandable, considering that the French Teacher is a real bitch and doesn’t give any second chances.

Where Namjoon’s concerned, he’s already on her blacklist.

It’s not like he’s always struggling like this in all his classes. To be fair, he gets along quite well with Maths, Physics, and all the other subjects that require logical thinking and critical perspective. But French is the one thing that I can gloat about in his face, for although he has the brain of a mastermind that can solve literally anything —and I’m not joking when I say literally everything— it seems like his ability to learn new languages is almost as weak as a red goldfish’s.

I push his restraining arm away with a roll of my eyes, “That’s what you get for not listening in class.”

“Come on, It’ll be the last time. I promise.” He cups his face with his hands as he slides his elbows onto the table and sends me that look, that look he always does when he knows he’s wrong but tries to convince me to help him anyway. “Hm?”

I sigh, and with a reluctant hand, hand him over my assignment in defeat. He’s never going to let me off the hook if I don’t show a bit of compliance. And who am I to kid anyway? He would’ve gotten someone to help him either way, even if I didn’t help him.

He grins and ruffles my hair, “You’re the best, you know that?”

I huff, “Of course I know.”

It would’ve been a normal day, like any other. The bell had rung for fifth period—French— and Namjoon managed not to get his head chopped off by the French Teacher once more, and school ended as per usual. I remember standing there, waiting for him to come out of the classroom because we always walked home together. It was an unspoken rule between us ever since we became friends — best friends— and really it had just become part of my routine.

And then I remember.

I remember that it had been raining that day.

The rain was what started it all.

I watch the droplets fall to the ground, plummeting onto the sidewalk in an echo of soothing symphonies  like pebbles rolling along a river, before fetching my umbrella from my backpack. It’s not like I dislike the rain, but when I have to walk all the way back home it gets kind of annoying to have water sloshing in your shoes and water making your hair stick to the sides of your face like you’d just taken an involuntarily bath. Now I know how dogs feel like whenever they had their shower times.

“You’re kidding me,” the familiar alto belonging to the owner I’m waiting for rings behind me, and I turn with a scowl to ask him, “Why are you so late?”

“Sorry, I got caught up talking to the guys.” he rubs the side of his head, an act that he only does when he’s slightly guilty, and my heart softens a little.

I punch his arm jokingly when he comes closer, “Please tell me you have an umbrella.”

“I do.” He makes a face at me and pulls out his own, opening it with an extravagant flourish that causes a chuckle to fall from my lips. He tilts his head at me in a silent proposal to go home, and I answer with a single nod, a small grin on my face.

The raindrops seem to pick up their pace and rhythm and the wind isn’t helping as we try to make our way out of the courtyard. I try my best to make myself as small as possible when the water splashes involuntarily up my legs, the cold wetness making me hiss, more in shock than in pain. If it’s like this when we’re still in school, then I’ll sure be drenched by the end of my walk back home.

Ain’t that great.

In my peripheral, I notice a figure running past us, their coat flying behind them as they try their best to cover their heads against the heated rainfall.

Pity swells slightly within my chest, before Namjoon suddenly voices out his thoughts, “I think I know that girl.”

“Huh?” I turn around once more to watch the said individual take refuge under a tree that isn’t doing a very good job at keeping her dry from the endless rain. I squint and wonder whether her face is a familiar one, but nothing comes to me.

I shake my head, “I don’t know her.”

“She’s in my Creative Writing class. The one I take as an activity?”

“Mhm.”

He adjusts his bag more securely onto his shoulder, “Maybe I should go help.”

“Oh, prince charming now are you?” I snigger, but before he can open his mouth to retort back his answer, I swat him away with a hand, “Just go. She needs it.”

“Stop making fun of me,” he throws me a pointed look before walking away. I pull my tongue out at him behind his back while replying, “I’m definitely going to ask about this when I’m home!”

I didn’t know then, that this one agreement would mean that I could lose him for the rest of my life.

I didn’t know that this would set off an alarm and wreck the deeply embedded roots of our friendship.

I didn’t know.

-----

I see him at school the next day and proceed to slap his back with everything that I have, a punishment for not replying to me yesterday when I asked if everything had gone alright.

But when he turns and flashes me this smile, the smile that made me realize years later that there was something underneath the waters that I didn’t know about, I knew for a fact that this boy had been a goner from before the time he requested to accompany her to a nearby bus station.

“What’s up?” I say as I casually sit down next to him like I always do. He has this sort of expression on his face, the kind that’s unidentifiable and yet, makes me twitch with a sense that there is something he’s hiding behind that face of his, behind that seemingly innocent expression.

“Nothing much.” his reply comes a little too quickly, where I can only raise a brow in question, “Oh, something’s definitely up.”

I haven’t seen Namjoon blush in a really long time, and the last time he’s confessed his affections for a certain individual had been in elementary school, sixth grade, where he almost immediately got rejected. That was before the time we actually started talking, and I remembered feeling pitiful towards the boy whose heart and soul got broken when the said girl had skipped away after telling him that he as an ugly monster and that no one would date him.

Up until now, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Namjoon trying to hit on other girls.

So might as well start now.

“Care to tell me about your walk after school yesterday?” I say, wriggling my eyes suggestively, to which he can only roll his eyes and turn away from me in an attempt to hide the growing smile on his face.

But I catch him anyway, and cross my arms in satisfaction, “Oh my god, Namjoon. It only takes a rainy day, a soaked girl and a shared umbrella for you to be so smitten?’

“It’s not like that.” he protests even though the way he avoids my gaze says otherwise.

“Come on,” I nudge him consistently so that he’d give up and start talking, if only to get rid of me being an annoying pest at his side, “just tell me what happened.”

“Nothing. I asked her if she wanted to share the umbrella. She said she was going towards the bus station, so I walked her there. We talked. And that’s it.”

Still, I know he’s not giving me the full story, and I know that he knows from the look on my face that I’m not completely satisfied with what he has to say. So he sighs in reluctance while scratching the back of his neck, a slither of a murmur leaving his lips, “And we might have exchanged numbers and texted yesterday night.”

Now that’s better. “So that’s why you haven’t been replying my messages.” I grin, “Totally makes sense. Usually, I’d scream at you, but since this is a special case, I’ll let you off this time.”

He scoffs, “You talk as if you’re actually a threat.”

“What did you say?!”

“Nothing” He singsongs, “Come on, before I get another lecture from that poor excuse of a French Teacher.”

I still didn’t know then.

A/N: First chapter is up! What do you think of it??? :) This will be your typical stereotypical bestfriend au and yes ladies and gentlemen I am not afraid to say that stereotypes are actual truth. My experience is the living proof of it so cheers to the cute predictable bestfriends turned to lover’s story!  Thanks for reading :) xx