..but I still want you // OT7 [COMPLETED]

61 || Fated

NAMJOON

Namjoon POV

"Refill?" Carlisle asks pointing to my nearly empty beer glass.

Wiping my mouth with my napkin, I nod. "Please, ma'am."

"You and your ma'am can kiss my ass, Joon." She laughs. "I'm not that damn old!"

"How old are you? I don't believe I ever asked."

Grinning as she refills my glass from the tap, Carlisle replies "Twenty-seven and two months."

"We're the same age and I am called 'sir' all of the time. There's nothing wrong with being called 'ma'am'."

"When is your birthday?"

As I take the filled glass she slides across the bar, I quickly respond with my attention solely on the top of my beer. "Five days ago."

"Dude! You should have told me! I would have thrown in some extra steak fries or a shot or some shit! Happy belated! Was it a good one?"

"It was just any other day honestly. I worked and I went home."

Carlisle places her hands on her hips. "Your girlfriend didn't do anything special for you?"

I sip my drink. "She isn't really into things like that."

She looks appalled. "She isn't into birthdays?"

"I meant me. She isn't into me."

Without raising my sight, I can tell Carlisle has dropped her arms and I feel that she is pitying me. I don't want anybody to pity me.

Sena and I are still tethered, so I try to keep believing we really are meant to be together. Connecting with Hazel seemed to have eased the aggression in the relationship Sena and I have, so I thank the fates for the little things.

Baby steps may be small, but at least they are in the right direction.

The front door opens and Carlisle sighs. She tosses her bar mop over her shoulder with a smile to the new patrons but under her breath she complaints to me.

"I wish the damn owner wasn't so cheap. It would be nice to have just one waitress during the week so that I don't have to do it all."

"You got this, Carly. I believe in you." I chuckle. She secretly flips me off.

Bringing my glass to my lips again, my sight follows Carlisle from around the bar to the couple who have taken a seat in one of the booths. I first see the modelesque man seated on the left side of the booth as he greets Carlisle and most likely orders a drink.

His attention turns to his table mate once finished and he flashes a loving albeit nervous smile. I can tell by the way Carlisle nods to the person in front of her, she has taken their drink order and offered the usual pleasantries before departing.

All of the air leaves my lungs when I lay eyes on the woman seated at the right side of the booth.

The rich, deep brown skin of her long toned legs steals my attention first and by the time my eyes lift to her sculpted jawline and full lips I feel myself drooling. She twists a lock of her lush thick coils around the tips of her fingers as she reads over the menu.