You eyed the contents of Namjoon's trunk suspiciously. You wouldn't really call yourself a distrustful person per say, but what man who isn't a player has women's clothing in his car? "Um, care to explain?" You folded your arms over your chest and side eyed him.

"Explain?" He bent to retrieve the bundle and looked up at you in confusion. "I told you that I planned out the day, did I not? If I knew we would be coming to the beach, wouldn't the smart thing to do be to bring a change of clothing just in case?" He raised his brow at you now, and you felt foolish. Right. He had anticipated what you would need, of course he had. You rubbed your arm sheepishly and looked down in embarrassment. You felt gentle hands turn you to face him and a finger tilt your chin up. "You don't trust easy, do you?"

You sighed and shook your head. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply..."

He gave you an easy smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Look, I called Nova last night to get your sizes right. I'm nothing if not thorough and I wanted today to be perfect. I'm not someone who would put your faith in me to the test," a slight pause made you look him in the eyes, "or have I not earned it after everything?"

Damn, now you felt like a fool and a jerk. If anyone needed to earn trust, it was you. "You have, of course you have. I'm so sorry, Namjoon. It's just that when something in my life feels like it's too good to be true, it usually is."

He brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. "Not this time."

* * *

"When I was five, I dreamt about becoming an apartment complex security guard." Namjoon admitted with a laugh as the two of you walked side by side along the trail. You had both changed into dry clothes and you had been pleasantly surprised by his fashion choices. He had picked for you some white washed denim shorts, a teal babydoll tee, and a pair of Toms. He looked like a model in a pair of cargo shorts, a plain white tank top, and a colorful over shirt. If anyone could make simple look sexy, it was this man.

"Really? You guffawed in disbelief and the picture of him in a security guard uniform complete with a badge and utility belt came to mind. Hm, that definitely would not upset you. In fact. . .

"What? It's a reasonable job." Namjoon argued, defending himself.

"I mean yeah, it's just... not something normal five year olds dream about becoming." You said, raising a hand to press it against your lips as you snickered. "Police officer or army man, sure, but an officer of group living is oddly specific, don't you think?"

"Well, maybe I'm not normal." Namjoon shrugged slightly with his large hands stuffed into his pockets.

"There is no 'maybe' about that." You playfully nudged his arm with your shoulder. "Plus, I'd say that's a good thing. 'Normal' people lack a sense of imagination and ambition. And those are things you clearly have an abundance of. I mean, the music you write and how far you've come with it...there's no way you could have done all that doing what most people would consider normal." Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him looking at you, an unreadable expression on his handsome face.

"I guess you have a point." He took your hand then, his calloused palm warm in yours. "What about you? You have never really told me what your goal in life is." Up until now, he had answered all of your questions without hesitation. He was even forthcoming with information you hadn't asked for. To be honest, you had done absolutely nothing to deserve any of it. Someone of his status and fame should be more wary of giving out anything personal about themselves, but he'd let you in from the beginning so effortlessly. And he was right, you coveted your trust like it was the last golden ticket and everyone was trying to pay you for it. But you found yourself wanting to tell him everything. The strange part? You weren't even scared.

"I don't know if I really have one yet. I just want to make the most of my life. Live without regrets." You had learned long ago that being happy was a choice that was all yours to make. You had lived cautiously for so long and it had done you no favors. "It's better an 'oops' than a 'what if', if that makes sense. I used to obsess over my future and stress over deadlines that I conjured up in my own mind. It started to wear on me heavily, thinking that I had to have my entire life together by a certain age. I'll figure it out in time, I'm sure. But for right now I think I just want to focus on trying to be the best version of me." You had made the choice a year ago to stop acting according to what everyone else thought you should do and started asking yourself if you could look yourself in the mirror each night and be okay with the face looking back at you.

"Yeah..." His words trailed off slowly. "Yeah, you're right." There was a smile in his voice as he processed your words. He always did that, you realized. He hung onto your every word and soaked them in like a sponge. You had never been listened to like that, heard with such attentiveness. Something warmed inside your chest, a part of you that you didn't realize was sleeping until now.

"So what do you think you would be doing if you weren't an idol?" You inquired, walking a little closer to him as the two of you continued down your path.

He released a hum in thought. "Realistically, I'd have probably become some type of business man like my father. But I think would I would have also enjoyed becoming a writer, or a poet."

"Really?" You turned your head to look at him. "You were just born to have your words heard weren't you?" You weren't surprised; words were his strong suit. "I think that's admirable. You're impacting entire generations with your lyrics. You have the power to do so many great things." You shook your head to yourself at the thought of the power the gentle man next to you had obtained. He was only going to go up from here.

"You give me too much credit."

"And you don't give yourself enough." You frowned and squeezed his hand. How dare he not see what you and so many others saw.

"Perhaps you're right. But I wouldn't have any of this without the fans. Their support is . . .everything. And what I have, I owe to them all." Ever the humble gentleman. He lived a life so different from your own, it was so easy to forget that to most he wasn't like everyone else. The sky above you was beginning to darken to a dull grey color and the temperature had noticeably dropped, but you just kept walking.

You learned a lot about Namjoon during your walk with him. He told you about how close he was with his mother, how his sister used to tease him when they were younger, how he used to fill notebook after notebook in high school with lyrics. You found out that his favorite color seemed to constantly change over the years as he could never decide on one indefinitely. When he talked about his six best friends, the grin never left his face nor the love in his eyes.

He kept a diary, and says the other members claim he snores. He likes sunsets but loves the smell of dew in the morning. One day he thinks he might still write a novel. So many little things that would seem so unimportant to others meant so much to you. They made up who he was, modeled him into the man that was standing beside you. You could listen to his stories for hours and only crave more.

In the mist of your conversation, the sky had grown a bit darker and before long you felt a few droplets of water splash against your head.

"Crap! We're just doomed to be wet today." You and Namjoon looked up to the sky with shared grimaces.

"I don't have a third set of clothes for us to change into. Looks like we're gonna have to run." He lengthened his strides, pulling you along with him. Your feet splashed puddles of water as you ran, soaking your legs. You struggled to keep up with him and those damn long legs of his. The rain was picking up quickly and it would only be a matter of minutes before you were drenched. In the distance, you could see a large dark shape through the mist. Namjoon headed for it with you in tow. The two of you soon reached it and took shelter under the small awning that provided a dry place just big enough for a few people at a time.

Shaking out your hair, you looked around. "Where are we?" You searched for a sign or some indication of what you stood in front of. The windows were tinted too much to see inside and the outer decor gave you no hints.

Namjoon lifted his face and inhaled, closing his eyes. "Do you smell that? I think this might be a restaurant." Indeed you smelled something that resembled meat when you payed more attention. "Why don't we grab a bite to eat while we wait for the rain to calm down?" He suggested as he looked over to you.

"Under one condition." You backed towards the door before he could take the lead.

"What's that?" His eyes narrowed suspiciously, rightfully so.

"I'm paying." You announced before simply walking past him and into the restaurant, not giving him a chance to refuse.