Awkward | BTS ✓

10

"This is a bad idea," I say for the 50th time.

"This is a great idea!" Namjoon exclaims as we enter the office I work at.

It's Friday, and I get to leave after lunch, so I thought today was going to be a good and simple day.

Joke's on me though, right?

Because as soon as I mentioned to Namjoon that I have to go to work for half a day today, he insisted that he come with me.

And when I said no, he decided to throw a tantrum that ended up with him throwing his phone out of his window by accident and now he has no phone. And I definitely don't trust him to stay out of trouble by himself and now that he has no phone to contact me when he inevitably gets himself into trouble, this was my only choice.

My stupid conscience wouldn't let me do anything else but to let this giant man child come to work with me. But at least this way, I can keep an eye on him and still have a good and simple day at work... right?

"Ooh! Look at all of this cool stuff!" Namjoon nearly squeals in delight as I lead him to my small desk in the lobby of the office building.

"Do not, under any circumstances, touch any of my things, dimples," I warn him, smacking his hand away when he reaches for my stapler.

"You will sit here in this chair beside me and be a good little superhero. Got it?" I say, raising my eyebrows at Namjoon, who has already excitedly plopped down onto the rolling office chair that I pulled up next to my own chair.

Surprisingly, he doesn't break it, which is what I fully expected to happen.

So far, so good!

The phone rings and I am immediately thrown into my regular routine of answering and directing calls whilst greeting customers and telling them which floor they will need for their specific needs.

"I'm bored," Namjoon whines after an hour of me diligently working while he spins himself in circles in his chair, falling into the floor nearly ten times from dizziness.

I reach out my hand and stop his chair from spinning any more. "You're going to give yourself a concussion if you keep getting dizzy and falling into the floor. Do you not realize how many times you've nearly bashed your head open on my desk? Stop it."

He groans loudly. "I'm so bored. This is torture."

"Here," I say in annoyance, placing a blank piece of paper in front of him. "Take one of those pens and draw a pretty picture."

"I'm not a child," he grumbles as he reaches out to grab a pencil.

"Not that one!" I snap, smacking his hand away before reaching to grab a different writing utensil for him to use.

"What? Why not? It's so cute and little," he says, gesturing to the pencil that's been used and sharpened so much that all that's left of it is a short, stubby version of the pencil.

"It's my lucky pencil. I've had it since I was 15 and I aced my finals with that pencil when I was sure that I was going to fail. I only keep it here with me for good luck. I don't use it anymore because it's so close to being too small to use. So don't touch it because you'll definitely make it explode or something," I say, giving him a warning look.

"Okay, okay," he says, staring longingly at my lucky pencil.

Another hour goes by of phone calls and customers while Namjoon keeps drawing little doodles all over the piece of paper I gave him.

"I'll be right back. I need the restroom. For the love of god, do not sneeze and do not answer the phone. And definitely do not touch any of my things," I say, glaring at him.

"I know how to behave, Isla. I am an adult, after all," he says, annoyed.

I refrain from making a sarcastic comment at that. Seriously, he makes it too easy for me to roast him.

After relieving my bladder and coming back to my desk, I see the look on Namjoon's face and I know he's done something.

He looks guilty.

"What did you do?" I say as I approach my desk, looking around frantically for signs of a fire or for signs of something broken, but I don't see anything.

I look over to Namjoon, who continues to look incredibly guilty but there's something weird going on with his face.

He looks like... he has something in his mouth...?

"Namjoon?" I say uneasily. "Are you okay?"

He doesn't turn his eyes to me. He keeps his gaze locked on the desk in front of him with his hands resting on his lap awkwardly.

"Um... dimples?" I say, poking his shoulder and I see him shift his mouth around as if he's uncomfortable for some reason.

I cock my head to the side. "Do you have something in your mouth?"

His eyes widen a little but he tries to hide it by looking down to his hands as his mouth shifts around again.

I don't know why I think to check on my lucky pencil. It's almost like I have a sixth sense when it comes to Namjoon and I can just feel it in my gut that he's done something to it.

And as I expected, my pencil is no longer in its resting place.

My gaze slowly comes back to Namjoon who has now realized that I've noticed that my pencil is missing.

And then everything clicks in my head.

"Spit it out," I demand.

He shakes his head, clamping his mouth shut.

"Now!"

He looks around at everything except for me, trying to act innocent.

"Spit it out!" I yell, grabbing the back of his neck and applying pressure. And like I would do to a disobedient pet that has something foreign in their mouth, I try my best to pry his mouth open with my hand.

He tries to shake me off, but I eventually get his mouth open and I pull my soggy, wet lucky pencil from his mouth.

After throwing the disgusting, slobbery pencil onto my desk, I turn my furious gaze onto the superhero who just tried to eat my pencil for some reason.

"Why?!"

"I, uh... you went to the bathroom and I looked at the pencil and I swear, it was calling to me! It was too cute to just not use! So I started to draw this pretty tree and I was so excited to be using such a small pencil but then I heard you coming back and I freaked out and did the first thing I could think of to hide it," he explains, keeping his eyes on anything but me.

"The first thing you thought of was to put my pencil in your mouth instead of putting it back where you found it?" I ask incredulously.

"I'm not good at decision making when I'm under pressure," he huffs out.

"No shit, sherlock," I say in annoyance as I grab a tissue and pick up the pencil, cleaning Namjoon's spit off of it.

I sigh and then I hand the pencil over to Namjoon.

"What...?" He asks, eyes wide.

"Just take it. You seem to like it," I say as I put the pencil in front of him.

"Thanks, Isla!" He squeals as he picks up his new pencil and excitedly spins in his chair. Then the chair immediately buckles underneath him.

My eyes widen for a moment in concern until he holds his hand up into the air, the pencil grasped firmly in his fist.

"The pencil is okay!"

Then I roll my eyes.