~Sometimes all I think about is you~

The night arrived, carrying with it the weight of new beginnings and the tension of unseen storms.

"Dad, I'm home," Namjoon called out as he stepped into the living room.

"Welcome, son," his father replied from the couch, his attention half-absorbed by the TV.

"Where is Jieun Noona and Jin Hyung?" Namjoon asked as he set down his briefcase.

"They went for Jieun's daily checkup," his father explained.

Namjoon nodded and headed upstairs to his room. All day, a strange, giddy feeling had been nagging at him—thoughts of you swirling uncontrollably in his mind. He wondered if it was love at first sight, though the idea seemed impossible. You weren't just a random person from his past. You were her—Min Y/n.

As warm water splashed over his skin in the shower, Namjoon tried to wash away the weight of the day. The stress of the case was suffocating him, particularly now that he was being threatened with his family's safety. But what really had him on edge now was the realization that you were his opponent. A complicated mix of fear, guilt, and curiosity gnawed at him.

You were once the bright student with that infectious smile, an innocent charm that had made you approachable and kind. But today, the woman who stood across the courtroom from him was nothing like the Y/n he remembered. You were cold, unyielding, and focused—nothing left of the carefree girl who used to blush at his words.

And deep down, he knew why. He was responsible for the change. The rejection, the public humiliation—it was all his fault. And now, seeing you again, knowing how you had transformed, Namjoon felt that same guilt washing over him.

"Did I really destroy her innocence?" he whispered to himself; the thoughts too heavy to shake off.

This case wasn't just about legal battles anymore. It was personal, and that terrified him more than any threat ever could.

You used to spend so much time with him back in college, always finding excuses to study together. But in his arrogance, Namjoon had dismissed your presence, assuming you were just being clingy. He never really understood why you wanted to be around him.

His father, a respected law professor at Seoul Law College, always spoke highly of you. You were his favorite student—the one who always excelled, the one with the sharp mind and unshakable focus. Namjoon couldn't help but feel a pang of envy back then. You were one of the best students in the entire college, known for your quiet determination and unmatched work ethic.

Unlike Namjoon, you never wasted time on trivial things. While others played and gossiped, you only ever spoke to Jackson, your best friend. Jackson, the extrovert, was the complete opposite of you—he could light up a room with his energy, whereas you were shy and introverted, always content with the silence of a book rather than the buzz of a crowd.

Namjoon often stumbled upon you in the library, your favorite haunt. When you weren't with Jackson, you'd sit by yourself, a book in hand, a small smile gracing your lips as you got lost in the pages. He found it strange—how could an inked piece of paper make someone so happy? But he remembered that smile. It had been so genuine, so unguarded.

But now, as Namjoon sat alone in his room, thinking about you, the memory of that smile twisted painfully inside him. That smile was long gone, replaced by cold stares and unreadable expressions.

And for the first time in a long while, he wished he could go back. Back to when you still smiled at him, back to when things were simple. But it was too late now.

Namjoon's own actions had wiped that smile from your face forever.

Namjoon shook off his thoughts and headed downstairs, only to find the couch empty. His brows knitted in confusion—he distinctly remembered seeing his father there just moments ago.

Frowning, he glanced around, the silence of the house making him uneasy. He moved toward the glass doors leading to the garden, and there he spotted his father. The older man sat quietly, a wine glass in hand, with an old opera melody softly playing in the background. The scene felt oddly serene, but something about it put Namjoon on edge.

He slid the door open and stepped outside. "Dad," he called softly, walking toward him.

His father turned his head slightly, acknowledging his presence but not saying a word. Namjoon noticed the furrow in his father's brow, the same furrow that appeared whenever something was weighing on his mind.

"Is everything okay?" Namjoon asked, sitting down across from him.

His father took a slow sip of wine, the silence stretching between them. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke, his voice low and contemplative. "The past has a way of catching up, doesn't it?"

Namjoon's heart sank at the words. He wasn't sure if his father was talking about his own regrets or something more. Either way, it struck a chord deep within him, and for a moment, neither of them said a word. The opera continued to play softly, its haunting melody filling the night air.

"Do you remember Y/N dad?" Namjoon asked 

Namjoon's father paused, his wine glass halfway to his lips, eyes narrowing as if trying to recall a distant memory. "Min Y/N...?" he repeated slowly, letting the name roll off his tongue. Then, recognition flashed across his face. "Of course, I remember. She was one of my best students. Brilliant, dedicated. Always had her nose buried in the books."

Namjoon nodded. "Yeah, that's her. But... she's not the same Y/N anymore, Dad."

His father raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Namjoon sighed, running a hand through his hair. "She's changed. Cold. Distant. She wasn't like that in college. Today, I saw her as my opponent, and it felt like she had this wall up, like everything about her was different. Like she was a completely different person."

His father studied him for a moment before placing the wine glass on the table beside him. "People change, Namjoon. Time has a way of hardening some people, especially those who've been hurt."

Namjoon looked down, guilt gnawing at him. "I hurt her, Dad. Back in college. I said things I shouldn't have."

His father's expression softened, the wisdom in his eyes reflecting the weight of Namjoon's words. "We all make mistakes, son. But it's what you do after realizing that matters. What happened between you two is the past, but it sounds like you're going to have to face it now."

Namjoon clenched his fists, the memory of Y/N's cold glare still fresh in his mind. "I want to make things right with her, but I don't even know where to start."

His father gave him a small, understanding smile. "You start by being honest—with yourself, and with her. You can't change the past, Namjoon, but you can at least try to fix what's broken."

Namjoon nodded, feeling the weight of his father's words. The case with Ja-Kyung was going to be hard enough, but facing Y/N again—facing the mess he left behind—would be an even greater challenge

Namjoon could feel the unspoken tension in the air, even as his father spoke calmly beside him. Though his father never openly addressed it, Namjoon knew the disappointment still lingered. That prom night, when Namjoon had humiliated Y/N in front of everyone, it had changed everything. His father had been proud of Y/N, treated her like a second daughter—seeing his own son crush her spirit had left a mark that hadn't fully healed.

"I never apologized properly," Namjoon muttered, more to himself than his father. "Not to you, not to her."

His father's eyes remained in the garden; his face unreadable. "Prom night," he finally said, the words heavy with memories. "I remember. You made a mockery of someone who looked up to you, someone who trusted you."

Namjoon swallowed hard. He hadn't heard his father speak about that night since it happened. He wasn't used to his father talking to him like this—so direct, so matter-of-fact. It hurt, but it was the truth.

"I didn't think—"

"You didn't think," his father cut in, his tone gentle but firm. "You didn't think what those words would do to her. And now look. You're sitting here, trying to figure out how to fix something that may never be the same."

The silence between them grew. Namjoon shifted uncomfortably, the guilt pressing down on him like a weight he couldn't shake.

"Do you even remember what you said to her that night, Namjoon?" his father asked, his voice softer now, but the question hung like a blade.

Namjoon's heart sank as the memories rushed back—the cruel words, the laughter from his friends, Y/N's shattered expression. "I called her clingy," he whispered, ashamed. "I said she was embarrassing herself, that she should just stop following me around. In front of everyone."

His father shook his head slightly, the disappointment still etched into his features. "You were young, Namjoon, but youth doesn't excuse cruelty."

Namjoon looked down, feeling the weight of those words. His father stood up, placing a hand on his shoulder. "The case isn't the only thing you need to win this time. If you want to fix things, you'll have to prove you're not the same person who said those things all those years ago."

Without another word, his father walked back into the house, leaving Namjoon alone with his thoughts.

"I-I just feel attraction towards her..." Namjoon had said, almost as if trying to rationalize the emotions stirring inside him.

His father's response was immediate and poignant. "A few years ago, she was also attracted to you, Namjoon. She had feelings for you—real feelings. And you dismissed her without a second thought."

Namjoon winced, the sting of his father's words cutting deeper than he had expected. The memory of Y/N's hopeful eyes, so full of trust and affection, replayed in his mind. He had been so wrapped up in his own insecurities and arrogance that he hadn't seen or cared about the hurt he was causing.

"I know," he admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I was wrong. I see that now."

His father looked at him with a mixture of sadness and concern. "Attraction is one thing, Namjoon, but it doesn't erase the past. It doesn't undo the pain you caused. If you're going to be in the same courtroom as her, you need to confront not just the case but also the person you've hurt. You need to decide if you're truly ready to make things right."

Namjoon nodded slowly, the weight of his father's words sinking in. It wasn't just about winning the case anymore. It was about facing the consequences of his past actions and finding a way to atone for them.

"I understand, Dad," he said with resolve. "I'll do what I can to make things right, not just in the courtroom but with her too. It's time I took responsibility for my actions."

His father gave him a faint, approving nod. "Good. Just remember, Namjoon, actions speak louder than words. Showing her that you've changed will be the real challenge."

With that, his father turned and walked back into the house, leaving Namjoon alone once more. The garden was silent, but in that silence, Namjoon found a new determination. He was ready to face Y/N—not just as an opponent in court but as someone who needed to make amends for the past.

Namjoon looked up at his father, the weight of the conversation heavy on his shoulders. "But be Careful, Namjoon, this is very sensitive. You should approach her, but don't break her heart again. I will never forgive you if you do," his father warned with a serious tone.

"I will not, Dad. I just needed to clear my mind," Namjoon assured, his voice filled with sincerity. He smiled gratefully and leaned into his father's lap, finding a moment of comfort in the gesture. "Thanks for listening, Dad."

His father's expression softened, and he gently caressed Namjoon's hair. "Invite her this Sunday for lunch here. I want to meet my favorite student," he said with a warm smile.

Namjoon raised an eyebrow. "Will she come?"

His father chuckled softly. "She will come to meet her favorite Hyun Sir. Just tell her that Hyun Sir wants to meet his Y/N-ie."

Namjoon's heart lightened at the thought. "Sure, Dad. I'll make the arrangements."

He stood up, and was about to walk back to his room, he felt a mix of nervousness and hope. The coming days would be crucial, not only for the case but for mending the broken pieces of his past. He was determined to face it all with honesty and respect, knowing that this time, he couldn't afford to make the same mistakes.

 "So, there's a father-son moment happening without another son? How can you guys do this, Dad? Why does everyone forget me?" Jin, who looked every bit the playful 30-year-old child despite his age, pouted and complained.

 His father chuckled at Jin's antics and patted his lap. "Jinnie, come here," he called out.

Jin eagerly plopped himself down next to his father, resting his head on his lap with a contented sigh.

"Dinner's ready!" Jieun's voice rang out from the kitchen after some hours

"Let's go," their father said, guiding them towards the dining area.

As they walked together, the family's warm and familiar routine unfolded. For a moment, the tension of the day faded, replaced by the comfort of home and the shared laughter of family.

___________________________

TBC

(A/n: Aww a father son fluff)

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[EDITED ✔]