#lmk oc ping | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

magicshopaholic · 2 years

Text

Seoul (Namjoon x OC)

Summary: You and Namjoon meet in Seoul again, this time as exes.

Pairing: Namjoon x OC

Genre: Fluff, angst

Word count: 13.8 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: language, break-up, talk about parental issues, stress, infidelity, kissing

A/N: So... this got a little longer than expected. Some questions will be asked, many will be answered. A lot of holiday cheer and pretty Christmas lighting. But the best part about this fic has to be the fact that I haven't proofread it.

Set approximately nine months after Next Time but can be read standalone.

Tagging: @bbl32, @meirkive, @quarter-life-crisis2, @kflixnet (if you want to be added to the taglist, lmk)

Listen to: “ghost” by parekh & singh

namjoon masterlist | main masterlist

The last cloud floats away, and the sun peeks out apologetically. Bathed in light, the landscape looks like a colourful painting - a blue sky with a hint of purple, the edge of a green hill cutting it at an angle, and a winding road finishing it off. Visible in between two parallel rows of buildings, it feels like a glimpse of summer on a cold winter morning.

Kaya raises her phone to click a picture, ignoring her frozen fingers. This is Instagram-worthy, she decides - story only, even though she rarely posts anything else. She considers a caption for a brief moment, but it feels almost cruel to disturb the picture.

Over an hour later, when she’s in the car on her way home, her phone pings and she sees a reply to her story.

artisfolly [12:45] You’re in Seoul?

Kaya’s heart skips a beat. She suddenly realises why she’d felt the need to take a picture of that particular hill and it’s no surprise that he’s recognised it, too. His question is unexpected, though, and she can think of nothing to say but the obvious.

kaya_m [12:46] Yeah.

artisfolly [12:47] Why didn’t you tell me?

She stares at the screen, at a rare loss for words. She can’t fathom why he would ask her this, and the fact that they’re speaking to each other for the first time in nearly three months reduces her to simple honesty.

kaya_m [12:50] I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me.

A beat passes. Kaya realises only a moment later how tightly she’s clutching her phone and forces her fingers to loosen up.

artisfolly [12:51] I always want to hear from you.

Another beat. Then –

artisfolly [12:51] Can we meet for coffee?

—

The city is already lit up and ready for the holidays. There’s the faint sound of instrumental carols from somewhere down the street as people enter and exit shops in a flurry, all bundled up in fashionable winter wear.

Namjoon still isn’t entirely sure why he picked this place to meet up. Gangnam just made sense because it was reasonably close by, but it’s also busy - it makes him feel less exposed somehow, although he isn’t fully sure what he’s trying to stay hidden from.

He glances at the menu of the coffee cart as he waits for her. Again, it wasn’t what he’d had in mind when he’d proposed to meet up for coffee, but his mind had gone blank when he’d tried to think of a place. For some reason, all he could think about was this small cart and the fact that it had a hazelnut drink. Around two hours ago, after nearly a whole day of thinking, he’d realised he couldn’t put it off anymore and texted Kaya with the location of the department store next door.

Namjoon exhaled, trying to ignore the low hum of anxiety in his stomach. A lot had happened in the last couple of days: a new track had been submitted for approval, their appearance at the AMAs in January was under review, he had a package that was currently stuck in customs - and then he’d found out his ex-girlfriend was back in Seoul. The anxiety is warranted, he decides.

It’s a few minutes past four pm when his phone buzzes. He feels a jolt in his stomach as he answers. “Hey.”

“Hey. I, uh… I think I’m at the location…” Kaya trails off, sounding unsure. “I can’t see Aldo, though.”

Namjoon swallows; the last time they’d spoken on the phone, she’d sounded very different. His heart skips an uncomfortable beat when he thinks about it.

“Oh.” He clears his throat. “Um, where are you right now?”

“I’m at…” She trails off again, and he pictures her looking around, eyes big and upward. “Okay, I just passed Zara.”

“Okay, just keep walking straight,” he tells her, turning to face the direction he knows she’s coming from. “You’ll see an auditorium kind of thing on your left -“

“There’s just a turn here.

“Yeah, no, you’ll have to cross the street. Be careful,” he adds automatically when he hears a car horn at her end.

She says nothing to that but stays on the line. “Okay, I think I see the auditorium… is that an auditorium?”

“Kind of, I guess. Street musicians, up and comers perform there and stuff.”

“That’s nice. Did you?”

“Still a stage I have yet to conquer. Can you see me?”

“Not yet. It’s pretty crowded. Is there an inflatable Santa near you?”

Namjoon turns slightly on the spot. “There’s a 3D Santa cut-out, if that’s what you’re referring to. There’s, like, three of them, though.” He bites back an unexpected chuckle when she swears under her breath. “Try to look for a banner with the directions to Santa’s Village.”

He can hear her stop in her tracks. “A banner? Everything’s written in Hangul, Joon. Oh, hang on, I think I see shoes - it might be Aldo…”

Namjoon nods wordlessly, trying to ignore his heart racing. He tries to look over the heads of the people on the street, hoping no one recognises him as he looks for Kaya - and spots her. She looks… exactly the same, or more beautiful than every single person in Gangnam put together. Probably both.

He can hear her murmuring on the phone, trying to look for him as well, but he can barely make out what she’s saying. He’s reminded, inexplicably, of the last time he’d seen a similar sight: London, almost two years ago. They weren’t dating yet, and he’d waited for her by the entrance of his hotel as she arrived from the station. He’d spotted her just like this in the crowd, albeit much later in the night. The moment she’d seen him, her face had broken out into a happy smile, complete with Disney princess eyes, and he’d asked her flat out to be with him two minutes later.

It’s a bittersweet memory. Namjoon blinks rapidly a few times before clearing his throat. “I can see you,” he says, hearing how low his own voice is all of a sudden. He raises his arm halfway. “I’m here. Right in front of you.”

He registers the moment Kaya sees him. Her mouth stops moving mid-word and she halts for a moment before exhaling slightly and giving him a small, polite smile. They lower their phones at the same time and Kaya continues walking towards him, dropping hers into the small sling bag hanging from her shoulder. He notices her gaze travel up and down his figure before lingering on his chest, and he’s suddenly glad he chose the turtleneck at the last minute.

“It’s cold,” she says when she finally reaches him, rubbing her hands together and shivering slightly.

He nods, feeling his heart leap unnecessarily. “It’ll get colder,” he informs her. “You look nice,” he says after a moment.

“Thanks. So do you.”

There’s an awkward moment of silence before she exhales. “So this is the coffee place,” she states, looking up at the lit up cart, at the fairy lights, the menu written in both English and Korean - anywhere but him, he notes.

“Oh - uh, yeah.” He shakes his head. “You should - we should order,” he stutters, fumbling with his wallet as he fishes it out. “Sorry, I know you probably weren’t expecting this, but I couldn’t decide -”

“No, no, it’s totally fine,” she says immediately, the silver hoops in her ears glinting as she shakes her head. “This is nice. I’ll have the hazelnut, I think,” she adds, retrieving her own wallet. “Uh, one hazelnut,” she repeats to the barista, enunciating a bit and holding up a finger before turning to Namjoon.

“Oh, right. One caramel macchiato,” he adds in Korean. He pulls out two bills and is about to place them on the counter when Kaya beats him to it. “Oh, I was going to -”

“That’s alright,” she interrupts, glancing up at him with a stiff smile as though to let him know it’s still good-natured. “I can pay for my own coffee.”

They don’t say much else until two steaming lattes are placed on the counter, smelling warm and cozy. They pick up their drinks, and Namjoon is suddenly faced with the consequences of choosing an establishment with no designated seating area.

“Um…” He looks around, starting to feel a bit silly, before looking back down at her and sighing. “Do you want to walk?” he asks finally.

She seems to have already expected this. With a glint of amusement in her eyes, she nods. “Sure.”

They begin strolling down the sidewalk in Gangnam square. The place is busy and most people are bundled up, meaning it’s one of those rare occasions when Namjoon is likely to make it through unrecognised. He tenses up for a moment when he thinks about the fact that he isn’t alone, but then remembers he has no business caring about that anymore.

“So… how’ve you been?”

Namjoon looks up, wondering where to begin. He isn’t sure how much of his post break-up state is appropriate to reveal, and if she even wants to know. He can talk about work… but even that could be a delicate topic, given recent events.

“Not great,” he says finally, surprised at his own honesty. “You?”

She shrugs, once again not meeting his eyes. “About the same.”

He bites his lip. The distance between them, while expected, feels awful - and wrong. Namjoon takes a brave step closer to her. “How did the seminar go? The second one was in October, right?”

Kaya pauses for a fraction of a second before nodding, and Namjoon knows she’s caught the deliberate tone in the question. He doesn’t regret it, though. Forgetting the first one was bad enough; the guilt that had washed over him when he’d realised he’d missed an academic milestone in her life had been one of the last straws for him.

“It wasn’t bad,” she says, taking a small sip of her drink and cracking a smile. “Went better than the first one. But I got to design the lecture series at the end so I guess it worked out.”

“That’s great,” he replies, meaning it. She seems taller, the top of her head almost reaching his cheek. He looks down to see her boots, long and straight up her legs… swallowing, he looks away. “You didn’t sound so good about the - about the last one,” he adds quickly, wincing a moment later.

“Yeah. That one was… way worse.” Kaya doesn’t say anymore, taking another sip instead. “Coffee’s good.”

“Yeah. We got a bunch of these delivered to the studio about a week ago. Thought you might like it.”

“Right.” She nods. “How, uh, how is the studio? And the collabs?” she tacks on at the end.

Namjoon feels his stomach twist again, his eyes falling to his cup at the mention of what was probably the breaking point of their relationship. Hwasa, Sunmi and IU. In the aftermath of their break-up, it had become increasingly clear to him that this was the core of the issue and yet, it seemed like the one thing they avoided talking about.

Kaya seems to remember, too. “Sorry… I didn’t mean to make it weird,” she mutters.

He shakes his head. “You didn’t. Don’t worry.”

She bites her lip. “I was genuinely asking. You were working pretty hard.”

I’m working hard, too. And not just at my job.

“They’re in post production now,” he answers as they turn into a quieter street. “Except for one. It came out last month.”

“Oh, really? That’s - that’s great. Must be doing well.”

“It’s doing fine. Just finished promoting it earlier this week.”

“So does that mean you have Christmas off?” Kaya raises her eyebrows. “Must be doing really well.”

Namjoon chuckles. “Yeah, I don’t want to jinx it. I’m going over to my parents’ house tomorrow night. I’ll probably stay there for a few days.”

Their coffees are almost done now; as the sky darkens, they throw their empty cups into a trash can by the sidewalk and continue walking. Namjoon shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket, glad for the momentary warmth.

“God, it’s colder than usual,” he mutters. “You know what it reminds me of, though?”

She looks up at him with the first genuine smile of the evening. “London?”

Fucking hell. “Yeah, exactly. Except there it was cold and wet.” He shudders. “I don’t know how you made it all the way from the station with a suitcase in that weather.”

Kaya shrugs. “It wasn’t so bad. The hot shower after really helped,” she adds absently.

It’s not super high up in the list of things Namjoon wants to be reminded of right now, the image of her in his shower. What’s up, boyfriend? she’d greeted him when she’d stepped out, wrapped in a towel, her wet hair swept over one shoulder. The memory makes him smile involuntarily.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” He straightens his face. “I read that Sean Scully was touring Europe again. Did you get to go?”

She sighs hugely and groans. “No, work piled up way too much. But, I found out he was going to be in Belgium and he was putting up some of his figurations on sale,” she says, shaking her head already, “and I started saving up - and I mean saving up. And two months later, the sale happened, and the painting was nowhere to be seen.”

“Wow. You know, some of his stuff is in the National Gallery here, too,” he says, pointing generically behind him. “We can - I mean, you should check it out… if you have time,” he adds lamely.

“Yeah, probably. I’ve been checking out more indie stuff lately, though - but, yeah, maybe.”

“Oh, is that why you were in Hongdae yesterday?”

“Yesterday? No, I was there to see a play.”

Namjoon frowns. “In English?”

“Nope.”

He bites his lip, trying not to laugh, but gives up a moment later. “Are you serious?”

“Shut up,” she mutters, looking adorably embarrassed and nudging him with her elbow. “Jae-lin wanted me to come along.”

Ah. “And there was no way you could say no to her,” he finishes in understanding.

“Exactly. Even the best of us have some weak spots.” She peers at something across from him on the other side of the street. “Hey, is that an ATM?” She stops and looks up at him. “Do you mind? I just need to -”

“No, go ahead. I’ll grab a bottle of water.” He watches her jog across the empty street and enter the vestibule before he ducks into the convenience store behind him. It’s easier than he’d expected, being around her - except for the part where he wishes he could forget for a moment that they aren’t together anymore.

As he wordlessly passes the bottle to the cashier, he wonders for what feels like the millionth time in the last three months if this was the right decision. It had felt like it at the time. The snapping and the fighting was becoming more frequent than before, but at least that was mutual. Disappointing her each time was too much, though, and before he knew it, he was doing the one thing to ensure he didn’t hurt her anymore.

“Thank you,” he mutters to the shopkeeper and exits the shop. The cold air hits him again and it feels as though the sky has gotten several shades darker in the last few minutes. His eyes go straight to the ATM, noting two or three more people apparently in line, before he spots Kaya among them. Her uncertain expression, ducked head and hunched shoulders tell him everything he needs to know, and all thoughts of their break-up disappear in an instant.

Striding over, Namjoon registers three other men, two behind her, seemingly chuckling at something the third is saying to Kaya. It’s clear she isn’t able to understand him, but his proximity to her is enough for Namjoon to automatically feel his pulse race in annoyance.

“Which - country?” The third guy says in English, louder and more deliberate. Before Kaya can answer, Namjoon reaches over and wraps his hand around her wrist, gently tugging her out of there. The relief in her face is brief but evident, and she immediately falls into step beside him as they walk away.

“You alright?” he asks in a low voice, dropping her wrist but staying close to her. “Do you have your wallet and everything?”

She nods and exhales, her arm brushing his shoulder. “Yeah,” she murmurs, her voice shaking slightly. “Thanks.” She doesn’t move away from him, not until they turn into a busier street. It’s more brightly lit, with Christmas decorations and fake snow everywhere, and Namjoon can’t help but feel sorry when she finally takes a step to her right and the familiar scent of coconut and vanilla disappears.

They don’t speak again for a while but unlike when they’d initially met at the coffee cart, Namjoon doesn’t feel pressured to make conversation. Some kind of ice between them seems to have broken and he suddenly feels a lot more secure in the fact that she’s here with him, that they’re here together.

“Oh, my God!” Kaya gasps suddenly, halting in her tracks and clutching his arm, and for a moment Namjoon thinks the creepy men are back.

“What?” he asks hurriedly, looking around and automatically stepping closer to her.

She doesn’t seem to notice. “What - the hell - is that?” she stutters, pointing shakily at something in front of her. Namjoon follows her finger, expecting danger, only to find something even more terrifying.

“Oh,” he exhales, running a hand through his hair awkwardly. He wracks his brain for an appropriate explanation but soon gives. “That’s… yeah, that’s a cardboard cut-out of Taehyung.”

Kaya looks up at him incredulously. “It - what?” She turns back to the six foot tall cut-out of Taehyung in a suit, smirking and making a finger heart, before she looks behind it to see the rest of it.

“Okay, Namjoon, there’s no easy way to ask this,” she begins, taking a step back, “but why is there a shrine to Taehyung in the middle of Seoul?”

Namjoon chuckles, a little embarrassed. “It’s his birthday in a week, so… they do this every year. Birthdays are a big deal around here,” he adds, following her as she gingerly continues down the aforementioned shrine.

“No, I get that,” she says slowly, lightly touching a fringe of sparkly streamers bordering a photo booth. “This is just…” She trails off, looking up at the fake snow and candy canes decorating a line of photo cards and smaller cardboard cut-outs.

“A lot, I know.”

“Kind of sweet,” she finishes. “You know, once you get used to it.” She stops at a wall-sized poster of the entire group, a shot from their last concert in the summer. Namjoon isn’t sure, but he thinks her gaze is lingering on him in the corner, hair a lighter blond than it is now.

My man looks so fucking sexy in a suit.

“What about you?”

It takes Namjoon a moment to focus. “Uh, what about me?”

“Does this happen for everyone’s birthday?” She raises her eyebrows playfully. “Was there a life-size Kim Namjoon here, too?”

“God, no,” he says, shuddering a bit. “Although there is a graffiti drawing of my face back in Ilsan. It’s actually pretty good!” he exclaims when she laughs, feeling his cheeks grow warm. “I’ve only seen pictures, anyway. I guess I’ll see it when I go back tomorrow.”

“Spend some good old quality time with it?”

“Not that much time. Our schedule starts on the…” He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to recall. “Twenty-eighth, I think. Need to double check that.” He opens his eyes to see Kaya frowning.

“You’re working on New Year’s?”

“Yeah,” he says, shrugging. “New Year’s Eve special in New York. Holidays, birthdays… doesn’t really matter,” he adds, hearing a note of bitterness in his own voice. He stops by a pop-up stall. “Honestly, it’s a miracle we got Christmas off.”

Kaya stops beside him, facing him slightly. “I’m sorry,” she says after a moment. “About your birthday. I didn’t forget,” she clarifies when he looks up. “I thought about texting or something, but… it was just too soon.”

Namjoon nods, feeling his heart clench a little. That hadn’t been a good day. “I get it. It was less than a week after… everything.”

“Yeah. Didn’t think you’d be working, though.”

“I didn’t mind. Kept me occupied.”

She bites her lip, glancing over at the collectibles. Namjoon watches her, recalling with a heavy heart just how much he’d been hoping she’d call. It hadn’t been fair to expect it, given that he’d ended things just a few days prior. He’d tried to do it as amicably as possible, tried to reassure her that it had nothing to do with how he felt - it was just a consequence of their situation. Long time coming, he’d said. Despite that, he’d kept his phone on all day, hoping that at least special events would mean he could hear her voice again.

“I did… wait,” he confesses after a moment. “I thought we ended on good terms.”

Kaya exhales, and he can see her defenses go up. “We did. That’s why we’re here right now.”

“Three months later.”

“Yeah, well. I needed time to process it,” she counters, folding her arms across her chest. “You really caught me off guard.”

Namjoon lowers his head, unsurprised at her astute observation. He had caught her off guard - and not accidentally. He can still remember the rain in the background, the sound of the people around her as he revealed what he’d been thinking for a few days by then. Most of all, he can remember how confused she’d sounded. That had been the worst part: her confusion. Sadness, anger, denial; he would’ve chosen all of them over her uncertainty, how she’d taken a few minutes to realise what he was proposing, by which time it was too late to argue.

“I wouldn’t have been able to go through it otherwise,” he confesses quietly.

After what seems like several minutes, Kaya sighs. “Well. In the spirit of processing things,” she begins, and he looks up to see her reaching for one of the small stuffed toys on the cart, “a belated happy birthday.” She hands it to him.

“Thanks. And thank you for…” He looks down at the toy and back up at her. “... for this stuffed doll of Taehyung?”

“A stuffed doll of Taehyung holding a wreath,” she points out, jabbing a finger at the plastic decoration. “And wearing a Santa hat.”

“Wow. This is, uh…” He looks back at the doll, stitched down to immaculate detail. “... so terrifying.”

Kaya laughs. “What are you talking about? He’s a good-looking kid.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want a voodoo doll of him staring at me while I’m, like, changing or something.”

“Well, that’s your punishment for breaking up with me while I was running late to class,” she says lightly, already handing cash to the shopkeeper.

“Fair enough,” he mutters, stuffing the silly doll deep into the pocket of his jacket as they begin walking away.

“So?” she continues as they stroll down the street. “How are the other guys?”

“Good, mostly. Pretty tired.”

“And your parents? Your family and everyone?”

“Also good.” He pauses. “My mom asked about you.”

“She did?” Kaya sounds surprised.

“Yeah,” he answers, nodding. “Nothing specific. Just how you were doing and stuff.”

She’s quiet for a moment, hands tucked into her elbows. “You didn’t tell her?”

“Not yet.” Namjoon bites his lip, realising only at this moment, that it’s because he was hoping he wouldn’t have to at all. “Guess I’ll have to, soon enough.”

“Believe it or not, it was hard to tell my mom, too.” She squeezes his forearm sympathetically. “Although, if I’m being honest, the hardest person to break it to was Jae-lin,” she adds.

He snickers. “Really?”

“Yup. And not to pressure you or anything, but she’s expecting some seriously deep music to drop soon.”

His heart jolts uncomfortably. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

When he says no more, he notices Kaya give him a curious sideways glance. “And speaking of my sixteen year old cousin’s obsessions,” she begins, the forced upward lilt in her voice evident, “what about Taehyung and Dilara Komyshan?”

“Oh, who knows with them,” he replies absently, stretching out his neck before looking back down to see her raised eyebrows. “No, they’re dating now. Officially.”

“Wow. Score. For Tae, I mean,” she clarifies.

“I agree. They went on some trip or something recently.”

“Ah, the honeymoon phase,” she says knowingly, shaking her head. “Children.”

“He’s happy now. And I mean too happy,” grumbles Namjoon. “He’s smiling into his phone all the time like an idiot; I swear, he looks high.”

Kaya snorts. “Wow, single people really are bitter.” When he doesn’t respond, she looks up, biting her lip awkwardly. “Too weird?”

He winces theatrically. “A little bit.”

She chuckles. “Sorry.”

They stop at a traffic light, waiting to cross the street. The sky is dark now, but the area has never looked more lively. Namjoon is suddenly glad he asked her to meet today; the closer Seoul gets to Christmas, the prettier it looks.

Which reminds him.

He glances at her beside him; they’re both standing tilted towards each other, almost automatically. To anyone else, it might look like they’re midway in conversation.

“By the way,” he begins, shifting to face her. She does the same, her silver hoops catching the light again. Namjoon pauses; there’s a certain science to this, a certain combination of elements that will get him the reaction he wants - or at least the one he’s hoping for.

“Yeah?”

Hands deep in his pockets, he lowers his head slightly to look her in the eyes. Disney princess eyes. His blond hair falls onto his forehead and he gives her a small smile, just enough for a dimple to appear. His gaze drops to her mouth before meeting her eyes again.

“You look really pretty,” he says, meaning it, hearing his voice low and deep. The flicker in her eyes makes his heart race, but he holds it, waiting for her response.

“Thanks. You look…” Kaya swallows visibly and her gaze falls, lingering near his chest for a moment. Thank God for the damn turtleneck. Namjoon is almost anxious at how she’ll finish her sentence.

“... really pretty, too.”

“Huh.” He nods. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” She pauses, clearly awkward. “The blond suits you,” she adds, reaching up as if to touch his hair but stopping herself at the last moment.

“Yeah, it’s, uh… the stylists like it,” he replies lamely, running his fingers through his long hair.

“They’re doing a good job, I guess. You’re looking thinner,” she murmurs, her eyes on his chest and shoulders before they dart up to him. “Not in a bad way,” she says quickly. “Or - or a good way. I was just… it was just an observation.” She shakes her head. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“It’s okay,” he says simply, placing a light hand on her back as they cross the road. “I haven’t had a lot of time to hit the gym lately. I’ve lost a bit of muscle mass. What about you?” he asks after a moment, feeling his gaze drop to her hips as she walks a step ahead of him, before averting them with an effort.

She turns around and waits for him to catch up, raising her eyebrows. “Am I losing muscle mass?”

“No, are you… you know. Taking care of yourself and everything,” he clarifies. “Eating well, locking your door… that stuff.”

She laughs without humour. “Remember when I told you I was saving up for that Sean Scully painting? Yeah, that means two whole months of nothing but instant noodles.”

Namjoon stares at her, unamused, until she looks up at him. “Are you serious right now?”

Kaya raises her eyebrows. “Are you? Do you seriously think you get to lecture me on a healthy diet?”

“God, I hate it when you have a point.”

“Which is often,” she says fairly, nudging his shoulder playfully. She looks around then, frowning slightly. “Wait, I thought we were going to your car. How far away did you park it?”

“Not that far, actually. There’s a shorter route through the alleys inside,” he explains. “I just thought you might… feel safer this way. Out in the open.”

He wonders for a moment if he’s made it weird again, for he can’t decipher Kaya’s expression. She licks her lips and looks at the ground, but before he can begin getting anxious about it, she looks up.

“I always feel safe with you,” she says calmly, gesturing for him to start walking again.

As he falls into step beside her, Namjoon feels, for the first time all evening, as though he finally knows what he wants. He sees her hand by her side as she walks, half-covered by the sleeve of her dark striped sweater, her nails painted black.

He imagines what it would be like to hold it; lightly at first, fingers grazing her palm before linking their fingers together. Holding it tight then, tugging her closer to him, feeling her long hair brush his chest… for a moment, Namjoon feels like crying.

“Wow, I didn’t realise how hungry I was.”

Kaya breaks him out of his reverie, and he looks up to see her peering at a passing tteokbeoki stall.

“Do you want to get some?” he asks, although he can’t imagine eating anything right now.

She waves her hand. “No, I’m good. Ji-eun’s making dinner and she’ll kill me if I ruin it.”

“Yeah? What’s she making?”

“Not sure. Something with noodles.”

Namjoon laughs. “Sounds about right. She may have grown up in America but she’s Korean at heart.”

“Completely.” Kaya shivers as a cold wind blows. “And Korean by blood, clearly, because there is no way winters back home were this cold.”

“Yeah, the winds are a bit harsh,” he acknowledges fairly. “Why did you decide to visit in the winter anyway? There’s a reason tourism is at an all-time low this time of the year.”

“Oh… my mom wanted to visit. Said she wanted to spend Christmas with family.”

There’s something off in Kaya’s tone, but Namjoon doesn’t want to pry. Not too blatantly, at least.

“Don’t you usually go to Connecticut to spend Christmas with her?” he asks.

“Yeah.” She nods, falling quiet for a few seconds. “She’s dating this guy,” she blurts out. “And they’ve been going out for a few months and it sounded like everything was fine, but I think - and I’m pretty sure I’m right - that he asked her to spend Christmas with his family. And it freaked her out,” she finishes, breathing slightly heavily.

Namjoon doesn’t say anything for a moment. From the way the words tumbled out of her mouth, it’s clear she’s been waiting to talk about it.

“Is it the dating part?” he asks gently.

“No,” she mumbles, looking at the ground as she steps within the tiles. “My dad’s been gone ten years, you know? I’m glad she’s dating. But when she does things like this, I know it’s because she’s scared. And I just wish she wasn’t.”

He frowns. “Did she actually tell you about him asking her to come over for Christmas?”

She opens her mouth but deflates. “Not exactly,” she admits. “But I know I’m right. The way she sounded, the words she used - she was avoiding talking about it.”

Like mother, like daughter. “Why don’t you just ask her?” he suggests. “You and your mom are close, aren’t you?”

She bites her lip and shakes her head. “I can’t tell her what to do. It’s not up to me to tell her how to move on from her dead husband.”

Namjoon touches her elbow, wishing he could do so much more. “I didn’t say to tell her anything. I said you could ask her. She knows you just want her to be happy, right?”

Kaya swallows, stopping as the parking lot comes into sight. “And then what? We talk about it? Because I’m such an expert on how to be happy?”

There’s a moment of heartbreaking silence before she looks up and blinks. “Shit. Sorry. I didn’t mean to dump all this on you.”

He frowns. “It’s okay -“

“No, it’s not. This isn’t your problem anymore, and we don’t -“

“Kaya.” He gives her a look when she stops talking abruptly. “You know, I didn’t intend for… this to mean that we cut each other out of our lives. You can still talk to me,” he says earnestly. He sighs and looks at his feet. “I know there are still things that I can't talk about with anyone but you,” he admits quietly.

He watches her expression change from confusion to curiosity, and then to a kind of concern. Her shoulder makes a movement and he wonders wildly, hopefully, if she meant to reach for him.

“Like what?” she asks softly.

Now that she’s asked, the words seem impossible to say. Namjoon looks down at his hands, feeling months worth of anxiety creep in again.

“I think I’m losing my touch,” he says finally, still not looking up at her. “With songwriting, producing… everything. I’m not… I can’t…” He trails off, wincing in irritation as he struggles to recall English words for his exact emotions. “I can’t write anymore. And the more I can’t… the more I have no idea who I am anymore.”

From the corner of his eye, he sees Kaya watching him closely, her forehead in a frown. “Why?”

“I don’t know. The words just aren’t coming. The music… I can’t hear it in my head the same -“

“No, I meant,” she interrupts him, and gives him an apologetic look when he meets her eyes again. “I meant… why don’t you know who you are anymore?”

“Because if I’m in the studio for hours and hours and I can’t actually… produce anything, or create anything, then what the hell am I doing in there?” If I’m in the studio for hours and hours, what does it all matter if I don’t have you?

“Joon…” She takes a step closer to him. “You’re… it’s recency bias. You’ve been producing great stuff all year. Didn’t BTS just win, like, five awards at the MAMAs?”

“Yeah, but not for anything I wrote,” he counters immediately. “And that’s fine. We always win for the popular hits, and that’s fine with me. I just… I can’t write anymore,” he says in a small voice. “The words aren’t coming.”

Her eyes flicker, as though searching for the right words. He knows it’s far out of left field for her, that a lot of his work is something she can’t contribute a lot to, choosing to primarily listen.

“Well…” She sounds a bit uncertain. “What did you write about before?”

He shrugs, looking away. “Just stuff. Things that made me happy, things that made me sad.”

“And you don’t have those things anymore?”

Namjoon doesn’t know how much clearer he can make it without risking losing even the last remaining fragments of her in his life. “Not the ones that make me happy,” he states, meeting her gaze.

Somewhere, a Christmas carol begins on a loudspeaker, sleigh bells in the background. Bright lights flicker on, jerking them out of their conversation.

Kaya takes a step back, exhaling shakily. “It’s getting colder,” she mutters. “Is that your car?” she asks, tilting her head towards something behind him. Before he can answer, she begins walking over.

Namjoon follows her slowly, knowing their conversation is over. He waits until he’s a few feet away from the car to open it. She doesn’t enter immediately, though; looking up at him from across the bonnet of his Mercedes, she gives him a small, sad sort of smile.

“I’m glad you messaged me yesterday,” she says softly.

“So am I.” He swallows, his heart sinking at the realisation that their evening is at an end, whether he wants it to be or not. “Come on. Let’s get you home before Jieun kills you.”

—

“And he crosses the finish line,” murmurs Kaya in humour as Namjoon slowly pulls into Jieun’s driveway before stopping the car. There’s teasing in her tone, but also a hint of pride, for he really has come a long way since she’d first started teaching him how to drive two years ago.

He doesn’t look at her, though, choosing to stare out of the windshield with a pensive look on his face - the same one he’s had for the entire drive.

Kaya deflates slightly. “Thanks for the ride.”

“How could I have let you go?”

It’s a whisper, but on a quiet street and inside a crowded car, it feels like he’s shouted it from the rooftops. Kaya says nothing, choosing to stare at her lap instead, for she isn’t altogether surprised. The way he’d begun looking at her as the evening progressed, eyes softer and warmer with each minute, some of the things he’d said; the poet in him might have thought he was being subtle, but Kaya knew him well enough to know where his mind was at.

Namjoon, meanwhile, is still in the midst of his crisis. “How - how could I have thought that was the right decision? How could you have let me?”

She bristles. “What?”

“No, I’m - I’m not… I’m not actually blaming you,” he stutters, glancing briefly at her, as though just remembering he’s not alone. “I just can’t believe…” He sighs, running a hand over his face. “God, I fucked up.”

When she’d gotten the call three months ago, her first emotion had been surprise. It had been a long time since Namjoon had called her, despite his best efforts to. Their conversations had turned terse and short, with more passive aggressive statements going back and forth than actual talk about their lives.

It had been a busy day and Kaya already had a lot on her mind, so when he’d broken up with her with barely any warning during a busy evening on campus, she’d been furious. Not at first; no, at first she’d been confused, then in denial, then in class, then busy - very busy - until something had finally forced her to face the fact that she’d been dumped over the phone by the love of her life.

He’d said many things, the first being that he loved her. He missed her, cared about her, and hated being a dick to her - so he wasn’t going to do it anymore. Throughout, through all the sadness and heartbreak, her anger at how he’d deliberately chosen a Wednesday evening in Amsterdam time to break up with her was the worst, because he’d more or less ensured that she wouldn’t be able to argue back.

I wouldn’t have been able to go through with it otherwise.

It’s probably true, and Kaya remembers being annoyed by it even a couple of hours ago. Now, though, surprisingly, she finds herself wanting to comfort him.

“Namjoon -”

“No, you know what?” He interrupts her. “I know I was wrong. I know I was too busy and I wasn’t making the time, and I was taking out my stress on you, but -” He shakes his head, and she realises he’s glaring at her. “You weren’t being honest about what was really bothering you.”

She raises her eyebrows. “I - what?”

He gives her a look, indicating he isn’t fooled. “You know what I’m talking about, Kaya.”

“No, I don’t. And… we don’t need to talk about this,” she mutters hurriedly, unbuckling her seatbelt when he grabs her wrist.

“Wait, come on,” he says quickly, stopping her. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to start a fight. Or maybe I am,” he says after a moment. “If that’s what it’ll take to finally talk about this.”

Kaya hesitates. “You talk about this stuff when you’re together,” she reminds him in a low voice. “And we’re not together.”

“I know.” He gives her a long look, almost pleading, before speaking again, slower and more deliberate. “I’m saying… I want to talk about it.”

“Fine,” she says finally, sitting back in her seat. “Go ahead.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Me?”

“Yes. You’re the one who wants to talk about it.”

“No, I want you to admit what was really bothering you,” he corrects her, giving her a knowing look.

She frowns, puzzled, even as her heart begins to race uncomfortably. “What are you talking about? We were apart, there was distance… wasn’t that the whole problem?”

“That’s a pretty macro way to look at it.” When she gives him a look, he nods, satisfied. “That’s right. I didn’t date an Economics research student for a year and half and not learn a few words along the way.”

Kaya’s mouth twists as she tries to suppress a smile. “No way. You’re not allowed to make me laugh right now.” When he raises his hands in apology and gestures for her to continue, his dimple still faintly visible, she sighs. “Fine. It was… it felt like it was waiting for the other shoe to drop, okay? Long distance is always hard, and we made it last for a really long time.” She shakes her head forlornly. “It was like watching a tornado approach. I guess I just wanted to spare myself the pain of a long, gruesome… demise of a relationship.”

Namjoon folds his arms across his chest. “You’re lying.”

Her eyes widen. “What? What are you - how dare you -”

“Kaya, don’t fuck with me, alright? I can read between the lines - I basically already know what it is, so why don’t you just admit it?”

“I am,” she exclaims defiantly. “I was afraid, we weren’t talking, we were drifting apart - what else is there?”

“Why were you afraid?”

“Why is anyone ever afraid in a relationship, Namjoon?”

“No, why were you afraid - and why did it come up only when I started working on my collabs?”

“Because I was afraid you were going to cheat on me!” Kaya huffs and sinks back into her seat, glaring out the window as she feels the corners of her eyes prickling at the memory.

Neither of them speaks for a few moments. It feels like the invisible wall that’s existed between them all evening has finally been broken down, wrecking ball and all, to leave a pile of cold, hard truths.

“Why didn’t you say something?” he asks finally. He doesn’t sound satisfied; on the contrary, he sounds almost disappointed. It breaks her heart just a little.

“Because it’s humiliating to admit that,” she mutters, still not looking at him. “Because if there was one thing that made us work, it was that neither of us was clingy. But if I started acting insecure just because you were suddenly working long hours with beautiful women, then -” She shrugs, feeling ridiculous. “I was officially a clingy girlfriend.”

“Clingy? Kaya, you’re as far from clingy as a partner can be. We both are - we work crazy hours, we’ve gone days without talking and it never mattered. I could never think you’re a clingy girlfriend. And I would never cheat on you,” he adds firmly.

Something settles in Kaya’s chest. “You know, that’s all I needed to hear?” she says, finally looking up at him. He looks almost wounded, his blond bangs thick and falling onto his forehead. “I didn’t actually think you would go ahead and - and have an affair or anything. I just needed that reassurance - I would’ve believed you in a second. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I wasn’t sure – but I suspected it. And honestly, I was a little insulted,” he adds sullenly, “because I didn’t think I’d ever given you a reason to doubt me.”

The truth of that statement is too painful, enough to make Kaya fall silent. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs abashedly. “I was too proud to say it. It’s just… these things happen. When there’s distance and stress and - and then there’s physical distance… it’s not outlandish to think something could happen. I don’t know how it works with celebrities,” she adds, shrugging heavily. “I just know I see a different story on Just Jared every other day and… well, we’ve already established that I was afraid,” she finishes, not knowing what else to say. “I was being crazy.”

She can feel Namjoon’s gaze on her, but she doesn’t look up until he sighs and touches her hand.

“You weren’t being crazy. I mean, I thought you were,” he amends, giving her a momentary smile, “but… okay, after we broke up, I was in the studio with Sunmi, right? And I must have looked like hell because she asked me if I’d had a fight with my girlfriend. It was too hard to correct her, so I - I didn’t,” he admits, wincing slightly.

“Anyway… then, out of the blue, she told me she had a boyfriend. And then a minute after that, she told me wasn’t bragging, but she was making it clear that nothing could happen between us. And then I was, like, what? and she said that in her experience, whenever two people had problems with their partners, they ended up hooking up. And she had no intention of doing so with me while we were both in committed relationships,” he finishes, shaking his head a bit. “So, no. You weren’t crazy.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

Kaya picks at a loose thread on her black jeans. It’s cathartic for all this to finally come out, but she can’t help but feel as though it’s only given their separation a kind of finality. Now that you’ve talked about it, you can move on in peace.

“I really missed you,” she murmurs, not looking at him. “And it felt like you didn’t, not as much. It seemed like the first time we weren’t in sync, you know?” She shrugs, her throat starting to tighten. “It scared me.”

“Kaya, you have no idea how much I missed you,” says Namjoon heavily. He doesn’t say the next bit, but it seems like a logical completion.

“God. Imagine if we’d just had this conversation back then,” he laments, running a tired hand through his hair.

“Yeah. You can cut yourself some slack, though,” she adds, glancing up at him meekly. “We both fucked up.”

Namjoon nods, giving her that same longing look that he’d begun when they’d entered Santa’s Village in Gangnam, before looking away.

“Have you… you know. Moved on?” he ventures, giving her a sideways glance.

She shrugs. “Define moved on.”

“You know. Are you - are you dating anyone?”

Am I ever. “Well,” she begins, taking note of how his shoulders stiffen next to her, “there was this grad student who tried to kiss me in the library, after which I ran away and cried for half an hour in the girls’ bathroom.” She raises her eyebrows. “Does that count?”

Namjoon’s head darts around to look at her. “He did what? Are you okay? Are you - did he hurt you?”

“What? No, no - it wasn’t like that,” she says immediately, shaking her head. “It was the day after you broke up with me and I hadn’t quite had the time to… deal with it yet,” she explains, giving him a reproachful look. “And I guess I’d mentioned sometime offhandedly that I was single, which he seemed to take as permission to try something and… then I told him to get lost.”

Dude, I have a boyfriend! had been her exact words to him, once she’d pushed him away and wiped her mouth in horror.

No, you don’t! he’d retorted, a lanky, brown-haired guy with glasses, sounding more confused than anything.

It had taken someone else to yell it at her for it to sink in, deeply, hurtfully, all the way down at the bottom of her stomach that she, indeed, did not have a boyfriend anymore, that Kim Namjoon was no longer hers - and everyone knew it.

“Why - why did you cry?” Namjoon asks, a note of concern audible.

“Because it felt weird, kissing someone else,” she admits, unable to look at him. “Felt wrong. Like I was cheating on you. What about you?” she asks after a moment. “Have you moved on?”

Namjoon gives her a look. “Does it look like I’ve moved on?”

“Uh-uh. This is not a topic where you can give me a cryptic answer like that.”

He sighs hugely. “No, Kaya, I haven’t,” he clarifies, almost indulgently. “It’s going to take a lot more than three months to move on from you.”

She tries to ignore how her heart zooms at his words, but it’s impossible. Clenching her jaw to keep from smiling, she takes a deep breath. “Wow, we were really late having this conversation,” she echoes his previous remark.

There’s a pregnant pause, with a world of possibilities visible in a single second.

“It doesn’t have to be,” murmurs Namjoon, and the hope in his voice makes her heart skip a beat. He waits for her to look at her. “What do you think? Can we give this another shot, baby?”

Screw you, Kim Namjoon. Kaya hates and loves in equal measure just how well he knows the right words to say to her. Her stomach flutters - butterflies, probably - while a warmth seems to course through her entire body, down to the tips of her fingers.

His face is inches away from hers. In the darkness of the car, with only the Christmas lights from Jieun’s house being the lone bright spot, and she tries to recall the last time he’d ever kissed her.

“I think…” She trails off, unable to think straight with how intensely he’s watching her. She tries again. “I think… I can’t have this conversation with that creepy doll staring at me.”

When Namjoon glances in confusion at the Taehyung doll they’d propped up on the dashboard before they’d begun driving, Kaya uses the opportunity to open her car door and step out. She hears him chuckle before following suit, and goes around the front of the car to join him by the driver’s side where he’s leaning against the door.

“Told you it was a creepy-ass doll.”

“And you were right.” Kaya stops in front of him and almost wishes she’d risked staying inside with the stupid doll. Tall and broad-shouldered, he suddenly takes her breath away. Maybe it’s the black turtleneck and grey jacket combination, maybe it’s the blond hair falling into his eyes and brushing the top of his collar, maybe it’s the familiar, woodsy cologne that she’s only noticed now that they’re out of the car. Either way, she can’t speak for a moment.

“So?” He raises his eyebrows, looking earnest and hopeful and heartbreakingly handsome all at once. “Do you think we can try this again?”

She shivers. “I…” It’s getting harder to breathe, and not just because of how he looks. This is so much more complicated than he’s making it sound. “I think.. we should sleep on it.”

Namjoon raises his eyebrows, apparently processing her answer.

She tries not to hurry her next words. “Look, I know we got all our issues out right now, but… our problems, they’re not going to go away. It’s still going to be the long distance thing, we’ll still have rough patches because of work… and I don’t think I can go through this break-up again.”

He frowns at the ground. “Why do you think we’ll break up again?” he asks, and she can tell he’s working to keep his tone neutral.

“Because making up this time isn’t going to last,” she says softly. He drags his gaze to look up at her then, and she can tell that he knows she’s right. “I just think… I think if we’re going to think about getting back together, we need to have some kind of view on - on what’s going to happen.” She swallows, wondering if he’s caught on to her hesitance to say the word. “Our situation… there’s a lot to think about. And I’m not just talking about the long distance.”

After what feels like an eternity, he nods. “That’s fair,” he says, but she thinks she can sense an undertone of disappointment. “It was just easy to forget, you know?” He shrugs and drops his gaze.

“I know.” And she did. She’d been starting to forget as well; it was too natural to fall into old habits. The way he’d rescued her from the guys at the ATM, the way she’d offered him the chocolate candy that came with her coffee without thinking, how he’d pulled her behind him when he thought he’d noticed someone pointing their phone at him; each of those moments had felt like déjà vu, except totally and completely real.

“That’s what made us kind of great,” she points out after a moment, wrapping her jacket tightly around her. “We always kept each other grounded.”

“So we’re sleeping on it?” Namjoon asks after a moment, looking up.

Kaya nods. “Yeah. Just so we’re sure.”

“I’m leaving for Ilsan tomorrow,” he reminds her.

“Good. That gives us a deadline.”

“Right.” Namjoon exhales. “I guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow, then.” He turns to open the door behind him when something grips at her heart.

“Wait, um -“ She breaks off, turning to glance at the house for a moment. “Do you want to stay for dinner?”

As expected, he shakes his head. “Oh, I - I couldn’t. But thanks.”

“I’m serious. Jieun always makes a ton of food.”

“Yeah, but…” Namjoon looks unsure. “I don’t think I’ll be welcome, right? Your ex-boyfriend… having dinner with your family?”

Kaya has never hated that word more, but she rallies. “I’m inviting you,” she points out. “And no one is going to make you feel unwelcome, I promise. They all love you. Please?” she appeals again. “I… I don’t want the evening to be over just yet.”

That seems to do the trick. Namjoon tilts his head the same way he always does when he wants to give her something but is prevented from it. “I - are you sure? You’re really close with your aunt. And your cousin.”

“Jieun’s always liked you. And believe me, with Jae-lin there, I’ll only be the second happiest person in that house if you join,” she informs him, rolling her eyes. He chuckles and her heart flutters at the sight of his dimple. “My mom’s inside. You should say hi.”

After a moment, he nods. “Okay. Let’s go,” he says, taking a step towards her, his hand gently hovering over her back as they make their way to the house. “I really do think you should ask Jieun, though. Just in case.”

“Jesus, don’t worry…”

“No, but what if she actually says no…”

—

Jieun doesn’t say no. In fact, Kaya’s aunt, more like a sister to her than her actual cousin sister, seems only mildly surprised but tells him he’s welcome. Her husband Jack seems not to notice anything strange at all, while Jae-lin seems absolutely thrilled that Namjoon is back.

“Oh, no, not - not exactly,” Kaya had said when Jae-lin had asked, point blank, if they were back together. There had been no further explanation, and her cousin had been enlisted to set the table and minimise the awkwardness.

“Sorry,” she’d muttered to Namjoon as they reached the dining table, looking up to see him both relieved and amused.

“Don’t worry about it,” he’d replied softly, reaching out behind her to pull out a chair and taking the one next to her. All through dinner, it felt as though nothing had changed, really. Jieun seemed to be enjoying some private joke as she watched them, sharing knowing looks with Kaya’s mother across the table, while Jae-line monopolised Namjoon completely, chattering away in Korean with no attention to anyone else.

Namjoon, ever the gentleman, engaged her fully; there wasn’t a moment where he tried to stop the conversation, his arm on the back of Kaya’s chair the entire time. Kaya stayed in conversation with Jack and her mother as much as she could, hoping that they wouldn’t allude to the situation at all.

Meeting her mother’s gaze was the hardest - not because Kaya was afraid she would disapprove, but because of how openly happy she looked.

“Mom, we’re not back together yet,” she’d murmured halfway through dinner, when her mother had given her yet another glowing, knowing, mom look.

“I know,” she’d replied, glancing at Namjoon over Kaya’s shoulder, “but you want to be.”

Did she? Kaya didn’t know. She was sure what she felt for him, even what he possibly felt for her. She knew they were happy with each other, understood each other, had an unimaginable amount of affection for each other.

But she didn’t know if she could do this again. As she sat next to Namjoon, feeling their shoulders brush occasionally and hearing his deep laugh next to her, she knew that “sleeping on it” would be far easier said than done.

“Thank you for dinner,” he says an hour later, bowing slightly to Jieun, Jack and her mother. “I had a great time.”

“I’ll walk you out,” says Kaya quickly, already turning towards the door, when Jae-lin pipes up.

“Oh, I’ll come, too!” she volunteers excitedly in English, and before anyone can say anything, sweeps by them and opens the front door.

A moment of silence follows before Namjoon speaks. “Sure, lead the way,” he says, smiling at her and squeezing Kaya’s hand apologetically. It’s the only thing that keeps Kaya from saying anything, even as the three of them exit the house into the cold night.

She trails behind them, arms folded across her chest, as she listens to them converse in Korean again. For all she knows, Jae-lin has just resumed their conversation from dinner, the words blending into each other for Kaya. With Korean-American parents, Jae-lin speaks both Korean and English with ease. Right now, though, Kaya wishes she would just stop speaking.

“Wow, what a sexy car,” says Jae-lin in wonder, running her hand on the smooth metal of the bonnet. She looks up to see Kaya glaring at her with a hand on her hip. “What?” she asks defensively. “We all use that word, unnie.”

Kaya stares at her. “Hey, Jae? Can you give us a minute?”

Jae-lin’s eyes flit between her cousin and Namjoon before they widen suddenly, as though she’s just realising she might be interrupting. “Oh! Yes, of course! I - uh, good night, Namjoon oppa,” she adds hastily and hurries away.

Kaya watches her until she enters the house before turning around to face Namjoon. “God, what a nightmare,” she mutters, rolling her eyes when he guffaws. “Shut up.”

“You shut up. You love her,” he says easily, still grinning.

“And you’re a saint.”

“Yeah, because you love her.” He leans back against his car again, the same way he was before. “And not to take a leaf out of Jae-lin’s book, but you looked really sexy being all strict with her.”

Kaya raises her eyebrows, feeling an old, familiar stirring in her abdomen. “Really?”

His smile gets wider. “Uh-huh.”

“I guess it’s a good quality for someone who’s working to be a professor one day.”

“Uh-uh. With a bunch of horny college students? They aren’t going to hear a word you say if you look at them like that,” he argues, taking a step closer to her.

The stirring passes from her abdomen to between her legs in an instant. “Okay, no. No flirting tonight,” she mutters, placing a hand on his chest and pushing him away. “Not when we’re in this… limbo.”

His jaw drops teasingly. “No flirting at all?”

“No. It’s supposed to be a serious night, to think. With the… thinking. And stuff.”

“Good call on those three glasses of wine during dinner.”

She sighs and drops her head in her hands. “I was nervous. But I’m okay, really,” she insists honestly, straightening up as he gently pries her hands away from her face.

Namjoon doesn’t say anything, just smiles at her fondly, his hands in the pockets of his jacket. It tugs at her heart, how transparent he’s being with his feelings. She’d seen it earlier in the evening, too, when they’d been navigating the market square to locate his car.

They’d stopped to open the map on his phone and Kaya had moved closer to him to be able to see the screen. All of a sudden, she’d heard him say something in Korean and looked up to see him smiling at an older couple who were walking away. Just before they disappeared from sight, the man had caught her eye and pointed upward. Slightly confused, she’d tilted her head up to see a sprig of mistletoe hanging from the wooden structure of the pop-up stall next to them.

Namjoon hadn’t said anything then either, choosing to simply suppress a smile and look somewhere near her shoulder, leaving the ball in her court. His you look pretty stunt was still burnt in her mind, though, so without too much thought, she’d reached up and pressed a kiss to his cheek before continuing walking.

It’s the same look now, the one where he seems to be on the verge of throwing caution to the wind. But she knows him too well, enough to know that caution is something he doesn’t play around with.

“Kaya…”

“Sleep on it,” she interrupts softly. “Seriously. It’ll be better.”

He looks for a moment as though he’s about to argue but at the last second simply nods. “Your hair’s longer,” he comments, fingering the ends of her loose, dark hair.

“Yeah. I’ll have to cut it soon.”

“Don’t. It’s beautiful.”

Kaya sighs. “Joon, you’re making this really hard,” she complains softly, her gaze dropping to his chest. She imagines him pulling her into it, feeling the hug she’s needed for months now.

“Sorry.” He swallows, just as a tune begins playing. His eyes light up in surprise. “Wait, do you know this song?”

“Uh… no,” she answers, frowning at the unfamiliar melody. It sounds like it’s coming from Jieun’s bedroom, but she can neither recall nor understand the lyrics. “Do you?”

“Yeah,” he says immediately, glancing up at the same window. “It’s pretty popular. It came out a long time ago, though. Like, when I was a baby.”

“Huh.” She listens for a few seconds. “Very Phil Collins,” she remarks.

Namjoon bites his lips and smiles, the dimple popping gorgeously. “You know what this reminds me of?”

Kaya grins despite herself. “Let me guess,” she begins deliberately as she lets him take her hand. “London?”

He chuckles, wrapping his other arm around her waist. “Hey, I can’t help it if London has so many good memories,” he reasons, his feet already moving in a rough rhythm.

She laughs but doesn’t argue, choosing to enjoy how he feels against her for a few precious minutes - quite possibly the last few minutes that she’ll ever feel it. She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment before opening them, only to see a light over his shoulder.

“Oh, God. Can we not do this where the neighbour can see us from his bathroom?” she groans, starting to step away.,

Namjoon tugs her even closer. “No one’s watching us. It’s Christmas Eve; they have better things to do.”

“Actually, it’s Christmas Eve-Eve and - okay, we’re in direct eyeline of the main road. Namjoon, what if someone sees you - oh, my God!”

Kaya’s feet leave the ground all of a sudden and after two large strides, Namjoon places her back down on the ground, arm firm around her. She bursts into giggles, stifling them against his shoulder as she regains her balance, looking up to see them under the tree in Jieun’s front yard, the fairy lights giving them a warm glow.

“Is that better?” he asks, laughing.

“Much better,” she agrees, feeling her heart expand as she moves right up against him, holding his shoulder and pressing a kiss to his collarbone as the song continues playing.

“Good,” he murmurs, his lips at her hair.

It isn’t a long song; Kaya’s just about registering how good he feels, how familiar, how safe, when the music fades away. They don’t step away from each other, though. She rests her forehead on his shoulder, hoping another song will play - anything to keep this moment going on a bit longer.

It doesn’t, but they still don’t move. She can feel Namjoon’s heartbeat against her hand, the one he’s clasping against his chest.

“Do you still love me?” he asks quietly.

Just like yesterday when he’d texted unexpectedly, taking the initial step, displaying the first hints of vulnerability, Kaya feels every strip of remaining defensiveness fall away, leaving nothing but raw honesty behind.

“Yes,” she admits, softly but clearly.

Namjoon’s arm tightens around her. “Can I kiss you?”

Her heart leaps. “Can you check if Jae-lin is still here?”

He snickers but she can feel his head tilt up. “No, she’s gone.”

“Then, yes,” she answers immediately, finally separating from him. Namjoon looks as though the sun’s come out; he exhales purposefully, his gaze falling from her eyes to her mouth. Gently moving her hair away from her face, he pulls her closer and, after more than half a year of doubt, anxiety and sadness, he kisses her.

The first time he’d ever kissed her was sweetness; sunny, warm and inviting. The next few times were flirty, sensual, teasing, followed by sexy, loving, affectionate - whatever the situation demanded. Namjoon was a hell of a kisser, his lips and body always moving in tandem, and he made her feel whatever the moment desired, every single time.

Right now, it’s a multitude of things. Kaya can’t even begin to identify it; she’s barely made it past the fact that she’s kissing him again, finally, feeling his lips and his hair and his hands on her. There are too many things in the kiss, but there’s only one thing clear in her mind: please don’t let this be goodbye.

It’s a vain hope because it may very well be, and she pulls him closer by the lapels of his jacket when she thinks it, trying somewhere in the desperation of their passion to remember that at least now, if they end everything right here, she’ll remember their last kiss.

Namjoon’s holding her close, so close. His lips are soft but firm, and the kiss sinking. When they finally pull away, staying right there, foreheads touching and his hand still in her hair, Kaya feels his heartbeat again. It’s under her palm, racing unevenly, but so strong.

This can’t be goodbye, she thinks again, even though every passing second makes it more and more clear that it probably is. It had been her suggestion to think it over and to consider more than just love, but in this moment, she regrets it immensely, for while Namjoon can be sweet and loving and romantic, nothing makes as much sense to him as pure, rational thinking.

It was one of the most attractive qualities about him; he was an artist, had an artist’s vision and temperament, but still held logic and reasoning in high regard. To a research student who worked with numbers, data and science, he was the perfect combination of everything she wanted in a man.

Despite that, Kaya wishes she’d never said anything. Eyes squeezed shut, she can’t believe this might be the last time, the last everything. She feels him take a deep breath before he kisses her forehead.

And just like that, she knows she’s made a mistake.

“Goodnight, Kaya,” he whispers against her skin. He pulls away and smooths down her hair. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

There’s nothing left to do but nod silently, and watch him drive away into the cold.

—

A faint buzzing wakes her up.

“Fuck,” whispers Kaya, feeling around on her bedside table for her phone. Squinting at the screen, she pauses in confusion. When the ringing continues, she answers before she wakes her mother sleeping next to her.

“Hello?”

“Hey.” Namjoon sounds far more awake than her. “Sorry, I think I woke you.”

“Good guess,” she mutters thickly, sitting up into a slightly more comfortable position. “What’s up? Is - is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” There’s a pause where she can hear the smile in his voice. “I forgot how adorable you sound when you’re sleepy.”

Despite how her heart skips a beat, she frowns. “Seriously? You woke me up at the break of dawn to flirt with me?”

He chuckles, low and pleasant. “No. I was hoping we could talk. In person,” he clarifies after a moment.

“I - well… I don’t think I’ll get a cab for a couple more hours at least.”

“Mhm, mhm. It’s a good thing I’m outside Jieun’s house, then.”

Kaya’s eyes snap open. “You’re - what?” She peers out of the gap between the curtains in the guest room. “Babe, it’s six am - the sun isn’t even up yet,” she groans, a second before she inwardly cringes and hopes he’ll let her slip of the tongue go without comment.

“I - I know. But I’ve been thinking about this all night. You asked me to sleep on it - and that’s what I did. I thought about it, looked back on everything, even had a drink to clear my head.”

“So you did everything but sleep on it.”

Namjoon sighs. “I’m sorry, I just… I have to leave in a few hours. And I don’t want to have this conversation over the phone.”

His tone seems to imply not wholly good news. She swallows, her heart already sinking. “And it can’t wait?” She drops her head into her hand. “I think those three glasses of wine are finally hitting me.”

“I have coffee,” he offers. “And the fresh air should help.”

Irrefutable logic. The smell of caffeine seems to spur her decision and she rolls her eyes. “Fine. Thank God you’re not my leader.”

He laughs. “I’m waiting outside,” he says before hanging up.

There’s no scope to pretty herself for this. Kaya manages to stumble to the bathroom and brush her teeth, after which it’s layer upon layer until she deems herself sufficiently padded for a December morning in Seoul at dawn. She doesn’t want to risk waking anyone up, so simply drops her mother a text: I’m fine. Just went outside for a walk with Namjoon.

“Hey, beautiful,” he greets her when she steps out, pursing his lips when she momentarily freezes. “Here you go,” he says, handing her a cup of coffee.

“Thanks. I needed this.” She takes the first sip, hot enough to scald her throat, and shivers in the frosty air. They begin walking down the street, the same one they’d driven up last night, with hundreds of unspoken words between them. Now, with all of them uttered and confessed, the air seems clearer and sky seems lighter, a nice indigo over the Christmas lights put up through the lane.

“Thank you for having me over last night,” he says. “I was planning on going home and ordering in, so home-cooked food was kind of amazing.”

“Well, you definitely paid Jieun back in kind, by keeping her daughter entertained all night,” she reminds him, still annoyed by how gushy Jae-lin had been last night. She’d always been a fan, since years before Kaya and Namjoon had ever met, and even though she’d somehow managed to get used to the fact that they were dating, her outward behaviour still needed some restraining sometimes.

Namjoon laughs. “I didn’t mind.” He’s dressed in sweatpants and a grey hoodie, with a black leather jacket thrown hurriedly over it. Looking at him, it’s as though he’d rushed out the door to meet with her.

They reach the neighbourhood park, empty as expected. It seems to be the only area in the entire neighbourhood that isn’t decorated; at this time of the morning, it looks strangely eerie.

“This should work,” mutters Namjoon, stepping inside and heading towards the swings, sitting on one edge of a two-person swing. Kaya trails after him silently, stopping a few steps away as he adjusts his position and looks up at her.

It’s gorgeous, his small smile. “Sit with me?” he asks. “I always loved going to the park as a kid. My parents would get happy because it meant I was taking a break from studying.” He chuckles.

Kaya doesn’t move. Dropping her gaze to the cup in her hand, she traces the mouth of the lid with her finger. “What’s happening right now, Namjoon? Is this us taking another risk together or… just an amicable way to say goodbye?”

Namjoon’s smile fades slightly. “Sit with me?” he repeats, sounding more sombre this time. “I’ll explain everything.”

Hesitating for a moment, Kaya joins him on the swing. Their shoulders brush, and she tucks her hair behind her ear before placing both hands around her cup like a safety tool, savouring the heat from it.

He takes a deep breath. “I thought about it,” he says finally. “In fact, I’ve been thinking about it all night. And if you ask me right now if I want to get back together… the answer is yes. It’s just yes,” he says earnestly, meeting her eyes. “I don’t have to think about it. I - I want you,” he admits. “I want to be your boyfriend. I want you in my life.”

I want you. The words should be enough for her to break into song, but instead Kaya’s chest constricts, as though her heart is bracing itself for the bad news.

“But if you’re asking me about a decision,” he continues, looking away now. “If you’re asking me about a long-term plan for our future - which is a fair ask, by the way,” he inserts quickly, glancing up briefly, “I - you know, it turns out I’ve been thinking about this for a while? I didn’t realise it, but it’s always been there at the back of my mind.”

Kaya doesn’t say anything. There’s a sense of foreboding in his words and she wonders all of a sudden if it isn’t just better to have a break-up over the phone.

“Given my job,” he says slowly, sounding like he’s choosing his words carefully, “given the industry, given my family… the fact that I’ll have to enlist in the military in a few years -” He breaks off momentarily and clears his throat, while her heart clenches. “Given all that, I think it would be impossible - and irresponsible - of me to promise you a future that I don’t know if I’ll be able to give you.”

“But I can promise you,” he says after a moment, and she knows he’s tilting his head to try and meet her eyes, “that every decision I take, every plan that I make… all of that will be done keeping this future in mind. The one with you in it.”

She frowns, finally looking up at him. “Are you sure?” she asks, and she hopes he understands what she’s asking.

He seems to. “Yeah, I am. I can’t… not have you in my future. If I look down ten years, fifteen years, twenty… I just can’t picture a future without you in it.”

Kaya doesn’t know what to say. They’ve just ventured into territory she wasn’t expecting. It’s not commitment. It’s not even a plan. It’s just a promise of intent, and she has no choice but to take him at his word.

He brushes her knee with the back of his hand. “Kaya?”

She bites her lip. “This… future,” she ventures, finding it strange even saying the word. “If you had it your way… what does it look like?”

Namjoon seems to consider this. “White picket fence,” he says, nodding. “And a backyard, definitely.”

Without meaning to, Kaya feels her face break into a smile. “Really?”

“Yeah. And, uh… one of those small bars in the house, with a countertop and the mixer things,” he adds, using an imaginary shaker. “A suburban house… late night drinks, where we talk about how our day was.” He looks down at her and smirks playfully. “Meeting for quickies in the studio during lunch?”

Kaya laughs. “Of course, I’m sure,” she says sarcastically, secretly unable to wait for more. “What else?”

“Um…” He squints up at the lightening sky, trying to think. “Museum dates on the weekends… Learning how to use a lawnmower.”

“I’m sorry,” she says softly, reaching up to touch his bangs, her heart full, “but there is no future in which I’m ever letting you near a lawnmower.”

Namjoon snorts. “Fair enough. What about… oh, a home gym, for sure.” The smile fades a bit, and he gets a slightly faraway look in his eyes. “An SUV… big enough to fit multiple people.” He meets her eyes. “Four bedrooms. At least.”

She swallows, her heart pounding. The prickling in her eyes is back and she stares at her lap, hoping it’ll go away. “Are you really serious right now?” she asks quietly, hearing the tremble in her voice.

“Completely,” he promises. “I know it’s not what you asked, and I’m sorry I can’t give that to you. But it’s the best I can do. Is it… is it enough for you?”

After what feels like an eternity, but is really only a few seconds, Kaya nods. “Yes,” she answers, watching the relief flood through his face. “It’s enough for me.”

When Namjoon says nothing and simply exhales shakily, she tilts her head. “Do you still love me?” she asks him, unable to keep the teasing out of her tone.

He gives a raspy sort of chuckle, pulling her to him and kissing her temple. “You’re the love of my life, baby.”

This would be the time to break into song, but Kaya reins it in, choosing instead to close her eyes and press her lips to his jaw, savouring that Kim Namjoon is, once again, hers - possibly for a long, long time.

“You know I spent, like, an hour yesterday picking out my outfit,” she murmurs after a moment, waiting for him to hum against her hair. “Should I get mad at you now or later for choosing to confess your undying love for me when I’m in a college sweatshirt and Jieun’s Uggs?”

He laughs, the deep sound making her heart flutter. “If it helps, I realised my undying love for you yesterday, while you were in your sexy outfit.” He tugs her closer by the waist and kisses her on the mouth.

Kaya makes a sound of surprise but doesn’t pull away. She holds his face to hers, running her hand through his hair, his thick blond strands as he gently coaxes her mouth open. There’s only so much room on the swing, though, and after about a minute of renewed passion, Kaya feels it sway dangerously under her. She’s just about to pull away when Namjoon sucks on her lower lip, a low groan accompanying it, and squeezes her waist - and she falls.

“Shit,” he mutters, taking a second to understand what just happened. “Are you okay?” he asks, snickering and bending to give her a hand. His dimple appears on his left cheek, brighter than the sunrise.

“What better way to resume our relationship, right?” she mutters dryly, taking his hand and dusting herself off. “The sun’s coming up, anyway - you don’t want to get caught making out with someone in a children’s park.”

“What kid comes to the park at seven in the morning?” he argues, tugging her closer by the waist again. “It’s the perfect place to make out with my girlfriend, if you think about it.”

She’s about to differ, but he kisses her on the cheek then before trailing his lips down her jaw and towards her neck. She sighs, her eyes fluttering shut on their own. He leaves for Ilsan in a few hours; if there was ever a time to risk making out in a public place, this is it.

“Fine, come here,” she instructs, stepping away and ignoring his protests, pulling him towards the corner of the park. She stops just beyond the jungle gyms, near the wall bordering the park and under a canopy of trees. “This will do,” she says approvingly, grinning when he wordlessly kisses her again.

Here, with the protection of the trees from prying eyes, Kaya allows herself to be taken by him completely. It’s the same urgent passion, but less desperate and more affectionate. Museum dates, late night drinks and an SUV, she thinks, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him deeper. He knew the right things to say and she hopes with all her heart that they make it to the future he’s envisioning.

“Mm, Joon, your hands are cold,” she complains against his lips, giggling as he slips them under her t-shirt.

“They are, huh?” he murmurs, low and deep, nipping at her lip and backing her against the wall.

“Fucking freezing,” she adds, sighing when they disappear from against her skin. “Can we go back to my - oh, wait,” she remembers, leaning her head back against the wall. “This isn’t Amsterdam and I don’t have an apartment of my own.”

“Well, it’s Seoul and I do have an apartment of my own,” he points out. “I have to be back in Ilsan for brunch but maybe we can sneak away for a bit…?” Namjoon trails off, shaking his head already, clearly on the same lines as her.

“We can do better than a quickie,” she says heavily, even as she presses her lips together. Her eyes dart to the bulge in his sweatpants and she swallows, resisting the urge to palm him right here. “When are you back?”

“Twenty-seventh morning,” he answers. “When are you flying back?”

Kaya hesitates. “Twenty-eighth morning.”

“Okay.” He nods, brushing his thumb against her cheek. “It’s going to be a hell of a twenty-seventh of December, then.”

She smiles and nods. “Yeah. I’m glad you’ll be with your family on Christmas, by the way.”

“Me, too.”

“Do you want to come over for a quick breakfast?” she offers, raising her eyebrows. “Everyone in that house is an early riser, including Jae-lin.”

“Sure,” he answers, surprising her. “You can tell her we’re back together, too.”

“Perfect.”

“Oh, wait.” Namjoon frowns, apparently just remembering something. “Won’t they be worried? If they wake up and see that you’re gone?”

“We’re half a block away from the house,” she reminds him.

“Sure, but they don’t know you’re here,” he points out.

She shakes her head. “Don’t worry. I dropped my mom a text.”

“Do you think that’s enough?”

“She’ll know I’m okay,” assures Kaya, getting up on her tiptoes to kiss him again. “I told her I’m with you.”

—

Thank you for reading. Don't forget to drop a review :)

#namjoon x oc #namjoon x reader #namjoon x fanfic #btswritingcafe #thebtswritersclub #btshoneyhive #bangtanbathhouse #bangtanwhq #houseofddaeng #btscarnivalnet #kvanity #bangtanoasis #wkcnet #rm fanfic #rm angst #namjoon angst #hyunglinenetwork

178 notes · View notes