chapter 15 : The blurred feeling
Namjoon awoke with a strange sensation on his forehead. He blinked rubbing his eyes as his hand grazed something stuck there. With a frown, he pulled it off and held it up. It was a small note, in YN's unmistakable handwriting:
"Don't touch me, you monster."
He stared at the words, his brows knitting together in frustration, but something else lingered beneath the surface something that felt dangerously close to regret. Her words were harsh, cutting him in a way no one else ever had. He ran a hand over his face, the events of the previous night flickering through his mind like scenes from a movie he couldn't stop replaying.
After tossing the note aside, Namjoon got up and headed to the bathroom, splashing water on his face as if that could wash away the remnants of last night's intense exchange. He changed, dressed in his usual sharp attire, and went downstairs, ready to confront whatever storm YN was brewing.
In the living room, YN was sitting on the couch, casually flipping through a magazine, but she looked up as soon as she heard him approach. There was a spark in her eyes, a mixture of defiance and confidence that only served to fuel Namjoon's irritation.
"You got my note?" she asked, her voice light and casual as if they were talking about the weather.
Namjoon clenched his jaw, trying to keep his composure. "Of course I got it. You stuck it on my forehead," he replied, narrowing his eyes. "And don't think for a second you can just get into my room whenever you want. From now on, stay out of my space."
YN arched an eyebrow, unfazed by his tone. "Oh, your space? Like how you have zero respect for anyone else's space? Funny, I didn't hear you complaining about boundaries last night."
Namjoon's eyes darkened. "Careful, YN. You're pushing it."
She smirked, crossing her arms as she looked him straight in the eye. "You think I'm scared of you? You act like you're this untouchable mafia king, like everyone should bow down to you. But in reality, you're nothing but a scared man hiding behind your title. Last night was just another example of how you can't handle someone standing up to you."
His fists clenched at his sides, but YN only seemed more emboldened. "You're a coward, Namjoon. Scared of love, scared of losing, scared of actually feeling something. And that note? It's just the beginning. If you want to act like a monster, I'll be sure to remind you of it."
Without waiting for a reply, YN walked past him, leaving him standing there, seething yet speechless. She was the only person who had ever spoken to him that way, and somehow, he couldn't bring himself to hate her for it. Instead, it left him unsettled, like a wound he couldn't quite reach to bandage.
Later that morning, Namjoon left the mansion, needing space to clear his head. He retreated to one of his nearby properties, a place he often went to when he needed to escape the weight of his responsibilities. Yet, even in the solitude, he found no peace. YN's words echoed in his mind, cutting through his usual shield of indifference.
He kept remembering her jolly side, the way she used to tease him, her laughter filling the mansion's otherwise cold silence. He missed it-the way she used to look at him, like he was someone worth admiring, even loving. He wanted her to go back to that, to be the girl who blushed and smiled around him. But that part of her was slipping through his fingers, replaced by someone who saw through his walls and wasn't afraid to call him out.
Lost in his thoughts, he barely noticed when Yoongi entered, closing the door quietly behind him. Yoongi took one look at his friend and let out a low sigh.
"What's going on with you, Namjoon?" Yoongi's voice was calm but direct, cutting through the silence. "You've been acting strange lately. Is it YN?"
Namjoon didn't answer, just stared out the window, his jaw tense. After a few moments, he finally spoke, his voice low and almost pained. "I don't want to love her, Yoongi. I don't like what that means for me."
Yoongi raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What do you think it means?"
Namjoon clenched his fists, as if trying to control the vulnerability creeping into his voice. "It means I have something to lose again, and I'm not strong enough for that anymore. Loving someone...it makes you weak. And I can't afford that."
Yoongi looked at Namjoon for a long moment, his gaze steady and knowing. "You're wrong, Namjoon. Love doesn't make you weak. It makes you human. And if you think she's just going to leave you the moment things get tough, you don't understand her at all. YN isn't the type to walk away. Even after everything you've put her through-all the insults, the way you've treated her she's still here. She's still by your side."
Namjoon swallowed hard, Yoongi's words hitting him in a place he'd tried so hard to keep locked away. "I know I've pushed her away. But that's just it, Yoongi. I push her away because if I let her in... I don't know if I could handle it."
Yoongi shook his head, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "You've already let her in, Namjoon. You're just too stubborn to admit it. You don't think I see the way you look at her? The way your eyes follow her every move? You're scared, yes, but for the first time, you're scared of something real. She's not just another pawn in this game. She's the one who sees the real you, the one who's willing to challenge you.
And you, you're so caught up in your pride and fear that you're willing to throw it all away."
Namjoon looked down, his defenses crumbling under Yoongi's piercing gaze. He wanted to argue, to deny everything Yoongi was saying, but he couldn't. Deep down, he knew it was true.
YN was more than just someone he wanted. She was someone he needed.
"She's been loyal, even when you gave her every reason to leave," Yoongi continued, his voice softer now. "You've hurt her, used her, and yet she's still there, fighting for you in ways you can't even see. You're afraid of love? Fine. But that doesn't mean you don't feel it. And if you keep going like this, you're going to lose her."
The words hung heavily in the air, the weight of them pressing down on Namjoon's chest. He knew Yoongi was right. But admitting it to himself felt like stepping off a cliff with no safety net.
Yoongi placed a hand on Namjoon's shoulder, his voice gentle but firm. "Think about it, Namjoon. Do you want to live in fear, or do you want to take a chance on something real? You don't have to lose her, but you will if you keep treating her like this. Let her in. Because if you don't, someone else will."
With that, Yoongi left, leaving Namjoon alone with his thoughts, the silence echoing with everything he was too afraid to face.
As Namjoon sat there, he replayed the memories of YN-the laughter, the way she'd look at him with those soft, intense eyes, the way she'd stand up to him even when he tried to break her spirit. In that moment, he realized that she was his equal in every way, the one person who wouldn't cower, who wouldn't give up on him, no matter how much he tried to push her away.
But the question remained: was he brave enough to let her see the real him? Or would he continue down this path, locking away the part of him that yearned for something more than power, something more than the emptiness he'd built around himself?
For the first time in a long time, Namjoon found himself at a crossroads. And he knew that whatever choice he made would change everything.
Night had settled over the mansion, and Namjoon returned, his footsteps echoing in the quiet hall. He was greeted by the familiar silence, a silence that felt heavier than usual. It was strange, almost unsettling, how empty it felt without her laughter or that slight glimmer in her eyes when she saw him. His gaze fell to the dining room, where YN was already sitting, eating alone. She didn't look up as he entered, but with a quiet grace, she placed a fresh plate in front of the chair beside her.
Without a word, she stood, retreating toward the kitchen to fetch a glass of water. Namjoon watched her go, a pang of something he couldn't quite name tightening in his chest. He missed the days when she'd wait for him, refusing to start her meal until he was home, and how she'd feed him herself, playful and teasing, coaxing him into bites with a gentle touch. It was in those moments that he'd felt almost... human.
When she returned, glass in hand, he remained silent, watching her set it down with quiet detachment. But his mind was far from detached. The moment she turned to leave, he finally broke his silence.
"I won't eat."
She paused, her back to him, not sparing a glance his way and took a step forward, ready to ignore him completely.
In a flash, Namjoon stood up, crossing the distance between them. He reached out, catching her wrist, turning her back toward him. Without another word, he slid his hand down, slipping a finger just inside the waistband of her pants, pulling her closer until her back pressed firmly against his chest. She let out a soft gasp, shocked by the sudden proximity, her breath catching as he held her tightly in place, his arms wrapping firmly around her waist.
He lowered himself into the chair, bringing her down with him until she was sitting in his lap, his legs folded over hers to keep her from moving. Her eyes widened, her face a mixture of shock and disbelief as she felt his strong arms securing her against him. The warmth of his hold, the roughness of his touch-it was overwhelming, unfamiliar, yet strangely intimate. YN's cheeks flushed, her heart racing as she struggled to maintain her composure.
Namjoon looked up at her, his gaze steady and intense. "I won't eat by my own hands tonight," he said quietly, his voice low and firm. He reached for the plate, pressing it into her hands. "Feed me."
YN hesitated, a spark of defiance flashing in her eyes. "And what if I don't?" she challenged, her voice steady despite the rapid beating of her heart.
Namjoon's lips curled into a faint, taunting smirk. "Then maybe you've forgotten my mood last night. So, if you'd rather avoid facing my... monster again, I suggest you feed me." He leaned closer, his breath brushing her ear. "Or are you eager to see that side of me?"
YN bit her lip, torn between frustration and intrigue. In a whispered tone, she replied, "Oh, I've met your monster before. It's... wild."
The words slipped out before she could stop herself, her tone teasing yet unmistakably daring. Namjoon's smirk grew darker, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.
"Oh? And here I thought you didn't enjoy it," he murmured. His grip on her waist tightened slightly, the warmth of his hands sending a jolt through her. "If you've forgotten, I can always remind you."
Her fingers trembled slightly, but she finally lifted a forkful of food to his lips. Namjoon opened his mouth, his eyes locked onto hers as he took the bite, each movement deliberate, his gaze never wavering from her face. YN felt her pulse quicken, but she maintained her composure, feeding him bite after bite, his smoldering gaze making it impossible for her to breathe evenly.
When the plate was empty, she tried to stand, wanting desperately to escape the tension that hung thickly in the air between them. But as she moved, Namjoon caught her wrist again, holding her firmly in place.
"Where do you think you're going?" he murmured, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "You've fed me. Now... who will clean my face?"
YN rolled her eyes and reached for a napkin, but Namjoon caught her hand, halting her movements. His grip was gentle but insistent, a silent command in his gaze.
"Not with that," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Without your hands."
Her eyes narrowed, but she could feel his thumb brushing over her wrist, the subtle pressure sending shivers down her spine.
Taking a steadying breath, she leaned closer, her lips just grazing his cheek, moving slowly, tracing the curve of his jaw. Her heart pounded as her lips touched his skin, warm and rough, the taste of him lingering on her tongue. The air around them seemed to thicken, charged with an unspoken tension that neither could deny.
As she pulled back, Namjoon's gaze followed her, dark and intense. The corner of his mouth lifted, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. "Not bad," he murmured, his voice thick with an undercurrent she couldn't quite place.
YN stood up, finally breaking free from his grip. She swallowed, struggling to regain her composure as she glanced down at him, the remnants of their interaction still lingering in her mind. Without another word, she turned and made her way toward her room, her heart pounding with each step, the ghost of his touch still warm on her skin.
In the silence that followed, Namjoon remained seated, watching her retreat up the staircase. His smirk faded, replaced by a look of contemplation, almost regret. His fingers brushed over his lips, still tingling from the brief sensation of her touch.
"Why did I do that?" he muttered, a strange sense of restlessness settling over him. He couldn't deny that he'd done it to capture her attention, to feel the thrill of her defiance, but... was that really all? Or was it something deeper, something he was afraid to admit, even to himself?
YN's words from earlier that day came back to him, sharp and cutting. "You're nothing but a scared man hiding behind your title," she'd said. The truth of those words gnawed at him, unsettling in a way that no enemy, no threat, had ever managed to do.
Meanwhile, in her room, YN stood in front of her mirror, touching her waist where Namjoon's hands had gripped her, the memory of his touch lingering like a brand on her skin. Her reflection stared back at her, a strange mixture of defiance and vulnerability in her eyes.
"Finally," she whispered, her voice barely audible, "you're starting to understand."
With a small, satisfied smile, she turned off the light and climbed into bed, her thoughts still tangled in the memory of his touch, the intensity of his gaze, and the thrilling, dangerous game they'd both become unwilling players in.
To be continued
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