Namjoon.

Since I can't go to work, I spend the next hours by the desk on music. I haven't had a lot of free time to actually put my thoughts and ideas on paper, let alone work on them. Circumstances has forced this passion to be pushed aside, to be set after other important priories, otherwise, I wish I could do this fully, I wish the studio was my normal life, and sharing music with people is what I did on daily basis. In the meantime I try to capitalize on the few pieces I have in the field, and try giving out more to some artist. I hope this yields out some fruit.

I make sure to eat lunch like Seokjin had asked me to, then have a few hours of rest in the afternoon, something I find difficult to do as I am not used to, but eventually fall asleep after imagining Seokjin's disappointed face. I am in the middle of writing some lyrics, somewhere in the evening after I wake up, when I hear the door unlock.

Seokjin has a key now, and I am not too surprised when I hear his footsteps down the hall until they reach the bedroom. The door opens to  reveal him, he is not as cheery as I thought he would be, his face is visibly upset, lips set absentmindedly into a small pout, almost like he is thinking. His eyes meet mine, and he manages a smile, forced. "What's wrong?" I ask him, trying to get out of bed.

"Hey, don't move too much." He counters immediately, moving into the room to stop me. He sits down beside me on the bed, putting out a hand on my knee, "will you stop squirming around?" He says again with a smile, but I can see it's not his usual one, his eyes don't crinkle even in the slightest, in fact they look a bit red and swollen, like he had been crying.

"What's wrong Jin?" I ask him worriedly, but he only shakes his head in disagreement. "Nothing, I am just tired. Had a long day. Did you eat, and rest, are you alright?" He diverts, clearly denying it. I don't push him to tell me, knowing he might not be comfortable opening up to me, although I am still worried deeply for him. "Yeah I ate, and got rest, and took my medicine." He nods, a little brighter than earlier. "Awesome, I brought dinner, and a friend." I raise an eyebrow, not aware of any friends or visitors we that would come around, unless one of our three friends dropped by.

I am however gravely wrong when a white furry chihuahua comes running into the room, and straight into Jin's arms. It's incredibly cute, and it's even more of a sight as Jin holds it, giggling while kissing his nose, while it squirms around in her leash. "This is my friend blue, I hope it's alright that I brought her along." He laughs as the dog runs from him, and closer to me. I pet him, smoothing the hairs of her neck.

"It's totally ok, I love dogs. I didn't know you had one."

"I had Hoseok sit her for a while, her
name is blue." He echoes once more as the seemingly excited dog, runs away from us, and out of the room. "Don't pee on the couch...or anywhere." He shouts after blue, laughing a bit as it barks in response. "Is that a yes?" I ask him, to which laughs louder. "I don't know, she just barks whenever I say something to her."

"I know I should have asked first before bringing her over, it's ok if she is an inconvenience, I could have Hoseok pick him." He worries as he turns to face me, I scoot closer so I am closer to the edge, flashing him a small reassuring smile. "I told you it's ok, I love dogs, especially if she is yours." He nods along, looking a little happy than he walked in earlier. I like him this way, and not worried and sad like he looked before.

"How long have you had her for?" I ask referring to blue, and he sighs happily, "almost two years now."
"That's a while, you must be a keeper." I joke, to which he waves me off with his hand, "she is the keeper, she has stuck by me through a lot, seen in me every state." He smiles, a clear indication of how much he loves blue. I am jealous. I wish I too knew everything about him, knew him well, and seen him in every state.

"My mum gave her to me as a Christmas present two years ago." A small smile takes his lips, and he momentarily looks at his hands, almost like he is thinking about it. "That's nice."
"It was. It was the first time she had given me an actual present." That's intriguing, like what does actual stands for. Seokjin seems relaxed enough, and even though he hasn't spoken about his family a lot, I don't feel like I am pushing past a boundary by asking him this, "really, what did she give you on previous Christmases?"

"A wad of cash, or just money as bonus for the year, to go buy whatever I wanted for Christmas, exclusive of drugs and alcohol, and anything that would make me fat." He chuckles a little, not at all offended by the fact. I think he realizes the questioning look on my face, so he continues with a smile.

"She doesn't believe in gift giving, or just really poor at it. So every Christmas, birthday, or special event that she needed to give me a gift, she gave me money." Its a bit sad, but he doesn't necessarily look the feeling, he instead looks longing, like it's a near thought.

I have learnt so far that Seokjin is an only child, and he does come from a wealthy family, possibly his mum and him alone. Now I don't want to make any assumptions regarding rich people, but he does seem like he came from one of those typical snobbish parents who have no time for anything other than work. Somehow it makes me glad that I grew up in a close knit family. Both my parents are farmers, and when they aren't working away their selves they are spending time with us. We didn't have a lot growing up, we still don't, but at least we had the love of a family, something that held us together.

Seokjin doesn't seem to have gotten something similar, but maybe my drawn conclusions from this morning encounter is wrong. "Blue must be special then."

"She is, my mum actually got her from her secretary as her gift, but she doesn't like animals, so she gave it to me."

"Allergies?"

"No, they are too much of a distraction for her." He chuckles, again, not at all offended by this too. "She sounds tough." I comment, not expecting a definite answer, since he hasn't spoken much about his family, well mostly because we started talking like two days ago, but still...

"She is tough. She grew up in a family of boys and wrestled her way through everything just to prove herself. Strength and power is her middle name." He speaks highly of her, like someone he looks up to, but at the same time there is something in his voice, something I haven't heard from him before. "Your a lot like her then, powerful."

He scoffs immediately, a small sigh escaping his lips. "Barely. I don't posses half the strength that she does. I am not knowledgeable about business, or have an excellent academic past. I don't know how to hold my head high, or climb the social ladder, let alone be at the top of it." His eyes move to his hands once again, and I can finally tell that thing in his voice. It's fear, maybe laced with self disappointment.

He shouldn't feel that way, because these past two days I have known him, he is one of the strongest people that I have ever met. "Why does that have to be the measure of power, why  must the past be the only thing to measure your strength. I know your smart, intelligent, talented and skilled. I know your kind at heart, and you give without thinking. These qualities in my opinion are the real possession of power, and strength for you. You sound like you adore your mother, but your worth adoring too, even on a personal level."

This started off as a simple talk about his dog, but I can't help want to reassure him, remind him. I may not know him too well, but I know the things I have seen from him these past few months, he is a kind soul that's for sure. He looks at me for a second, a warm look taking over him.

"If you have a family, they must be real lucky to have someone like you." He says to me with a fond smile. Myself I haven't thought about being lucky for my family, if anything I feel lucky to have them, I guess it's a nice to have a reminder as well. But same goes for him too.

"Same goes for you, whoever your family is, they are lucky to have you." I tell him mirroring his smile, before a silence envelops us. He seems to be thinking for a bit, his eyes narrow and he licks his lips before speaking. "What would you do?" He asks suddenly, and I raise a brow not following.

"About earlier, on what my mum said, what would you do if you were in my shoes?" He clarifies, looking at me for an answer. I haven't thought about what I would if I was in his place, it's a tough one to be honest, seeing as they aren't any choices to pick from.

"That's a hard one."

"I know, but what would you do, would you go back for your dream, or would you stay and fight for the same dream without knowing what it would become of." It's like asking what I would do if someone gave me money to follow my dream but leave my family behind, or to keep doing what I do, which of course doesn't have a clear future, but still get to stay with my family. I know well what I would choose, I know I wouldn't think twice before I chose my family, they come before anything.

But it isn't the same for Seokjin, if anything it might be the opposite. "If I had to be rational, I'd say you go out and follow a definite dream, which means going back to where your guaranteed success..." He nods following, and I smile along taking his hand in mine, he looks surprised, but doesn't dispute as I continue. "...but if I had to be selfish, I'd say you stay here and do your own thing, regardless of what it might bring you, that would mean you would be staying here with me, your boyfriend."

He wheezes out a laugh at my cockiness, shaking his head in disbelief in the process, I smile along, happy to see him more relaxed. "Yet, I feel like these aren't the options. You know this more than anyone, you know your mother more than anyone, and you know what you want more than anybody. It wouldn't be fair for me to choose for you, or tell you what to do and what not to." He nods along again, understanding that it wouldn't be best option to put me in his shoes. It's a big space to fill, let alone give advice from, especially because I don't know a lot about him, or his career path fully.

I squeeze his hand like I have done several times before, giving him a reassuring smile. It all lies with him, and he might chose the option I dread, which is going back to their home, and his life, that doesn't involve me, but that's the right choice, it might not be ok for me, but it's the right choice. "You know what to do. It all lies with you." I remind him at last, and he sighs heavily but nods in agreement, he knows I am right.

"Thank you, I needed that, a lot." He says in appreciation with a smile, he stares at me for a second, deeply, like he is about to spill every one of my thoughts. Usually, he always looks away, not necessarily shy, but more of fear of what I could tell from his eyes, what I am always fishing from them, but this time I feel like the victim, like he might actually tell from me this time. He'd be surprised most of them are about him.

I am however taken back when he leans closer to me, to my face in particular. His nose brushes against mine, his lips parted in earnest. For a split second I think he is bluffing, and that this is him trying to get to call me a pervert once more. But a quick glance at his eyes tells me he is dead serious on what he is about to do. I didn't think this would happen today, much less he be the one to initiate it.

My own eyes drop to his lips once more and I urge him on with a lick of mine, moving my own head closer. His eyes remain on my lips, down to the second he presses his own to mine. God they are soft, plush and taste sweet. His movement with my own are fluid, satisfying.

I've always thought my first kiss with him would be explosive, filled with passion and desire, because our initial attraction was physical, sexual. But this right here, the way he kisses me, this is more than just physical attraction, this is more than just sexual tension that they all claim. It's something, something deeper...

Equally, I pour out my confused emotions to him, bringing out a hand to cup the side of his face. I chase his lips with the slow movement of mine, until all I can taste is him and him me.
He doesn't pull away until we are breathless, and panting. My hand stays on the side of his cheeks, keeping our foreheads together.

"I- I don't know why I did t-that, I just know I wanted to." He breathes out, eyes closed. I don't know either what all that was, but I sure know I wanted to as well, I still do, so I tilt my head once more to capture his lips, putting a bit pressure on it to emphasize my equal message, he whimpers lightly, full lips parting around mine with a heavy breath as we slightly pull away.  Its brief, but still incredibly deep, and passionate. "I don't know why either, but at least we both wanted to." I smile to mirror his. This might as well be the best evening of my life, the best thing that has happened to me since I came Seoul.

"Joon?" He asks after a bit, his voice sounding a bit hesitant. I pull his face back a bit, looking him in the eyes. "Talk to me, what is it?" I ask him, desperate to give him anything, I hate seeing him in despair, or suffering even in the slightest.

"Will you hold me, just for a while, if it's not to much to ask?" His eyes are pleading as he gazes into mine, and I don't know why he thinks he even needs to ask. I peck his lips once more, "of course. Whatever you want." I know there has been a lot for him since this morning, and maybe even worse when he left for his errands earlier, and if being around him, for him a while will help him with anything, then gladly I will help him.

I scoot further into the bed, laying back down, and placing my head on a pillow. I open wide my arms for him, and with a small smile, he comes closer. He is on my side that is not wounded, so I let him press himself to me as closer as he wants. He lays his head on my chest, just under my chin, and he rest one of his hands on across as well, visibly relaxing at the contact.

I ran my fingers slowly through his hair, my other hand smoothly caressing his face. "Is this ok?" I ask him in a low voice, to which he hums in response.

"It's perfect." He whispers.