"Namjoonie?"
"Namjoon?"
"NAMJOON!?" Hyejin's voice finally registers.
Whatever trance the male had been under snapped. His brain blinking back into reality. Hyejin was looking at him.
"Are you alright?" She was still sat on top of him, his pants undone and looking absolutely worried.
Sweat was caked onto Namjoon's forehead despite the room being freezing. He had to blink a few times more to fully register Hyejin.
"I-I, we." Namjoon utters through jumbled up makeshift sentences. He removes his hands from Hye-jin's thighs and sets them onto her arms. "Sorry. I, think I'm more drunk then I think I am. We should probably head home. Boys probably still up, um...-"
"Okay sweetheart, do you want me to get you some water?"
"No, no. I'm fine. Let's just go."
Hyejin stands up and pulls Namjoon with her. She fixes his tie and slicks down his hair, and does the same after.
.
.
.
Namjoon stands under the shower allowing the cold water to dig knives into his back. It was cruel and hardly something anybody would do in the middle of the night but he didn't care. When they got back, they hardly spoke about anything that happened. They just went about their nightly routine. Hye-jin had showered prior and was now asleep.
The tremors of the past hour swirled around in Namjoon's mind on repeat. He leans his forehead to the equally cold ceramic tiles and relishes in the agony it brought. It hadn't been the first time something like this happened, not at all. Years and years of guilt, sorrow and memories haunted him like a persistent poltergeist. The memory of Seokjin was something proven to be impossible to escape from. No matter how hard he had tried to move forward, it did not work because in slim moments of weakness or lack of attention the presence of Seokjin refused to accept his neglect.
That's what his brain wanted to visualise as opposed to anything else. An illusion was the way out. It was hurting his relationship but he had to make do with it. 10 years would have been enough of time to work on it but no. No amount of years could amend anything. All Namjoon could do is persist, break through, in other words; live a lie.
A stray tear trudged slowly down his cheek, camouflaged by the water from the shower and finally through the drain.
Insignificant.
.
.
.
The next day, Namjoon wakes up earlier than necessary. Hyejin is still asleep, so he carefully leaves the room and walks his way to the kitchen.
"Good morning sir."
"Morning Mrs Choi,"
She walks over and hands him his cup of coffee for the morning, the taste of burning hot caffeine down his throat settles nicely. He walks his way to the living room to watch the news as usual but stops in his tracks.
Sleeping on the same couch, wrapped up in each other and drooling on one another are Taehyung and Jimin. The TV screen is paused onto a scene from a TV show the pair had most likely been watching last night.
Inwardly he smiles, but rationally he knows he'll scold them. However before he could grab the remote he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. Without looking at the I.D he answers the call.
