1; Coffee wins again.

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Here it is again. Namjoon finds himself stuck on a phrase, a word, a letter. He tries to find the relief his mind desperately seeks but with his luck he just slumps down in his desk chair and sighs. Writer's block, such a familiar topic to him. Familiarity doesn't always equate to comfort, though.

When Namjoon had first experienced a harsh breath of writer's block he had thought he was as good as a sack of dirty potatoes. He had sat in his desk chair for weeks, constantly emptying draft files and pen cartridges. Nothing had come to mind. His head was blank, and he hated every second of it.

Even so, all seasons must come to an end. The long awaited day where his suffering came to a full stop, a simple phrase breaking through the stinging shackles of empty mindedness.

"If this can no longer resonate, make my heart vibrate, then this may be how I die my first death."

Just like that, Namjoon found himself writing what he calls, "Black swan."

It had been years since then, Namjoon had indulged himself in the creativity that had naturally flowed out of his hands and mouth. This time around, the taste of writer's block had come back strong and bitter, punching him straight in the face.

When the wind blows, warmth will soon flow– he always told himself this. The bad times will come to an end and you'll be able to say for the first time in a while that you feel good. But how is that something he can say when the warmth is slowly becoming dull and cold? He can't say he knows the answer to that.

He silently ponders on this as his feet bring him to the small cafe just a block away from the HYBE building. His hands fiddle with the straps of his backpack sitting tight on his broad shoulders, a burn in his finger aching to take his pen and start writing. Playing with something is his next best option.

He looks up to the sky as he waits for the street lights to turn red, small strides taking him to the cold handle of this said cafe. He's immediately blasted by the cold air of the air conditioner, the sweat that resided on his face from the hot summer sun starts to seep into his melanated skin.

He takes a few quick glances around to see that the cafe isn't as full as it usually would be, maybe he could take off his mask in here? As he steps into a line with only a few people in front of him, he freezes.

Alright, so maybe coming to the cafe wasn't the best idea.

He had originally come here to ease his jittering nerves, not to exemplify them by sneaking quick glances to the figure beside him. The sweat had already resided off his chin was starting to form again. A tall figure, your shoulders rolled back and chin held high with such confidence Namjoon himself starts to feel small.

From the corner of his eye he sees your thin fingers slip around your coffee order, the sleeves of your black suit riding up your forearms revealing a shining silver watch. Namjoon wonders what those fingers would feel like around his.

Shrugging off his thoughts he tries to order something sweet, disregarding the fact that he wanted to go on a diet. The worker just frowns and says, "We're sorry sir, we don't have any creamer today. We're truly sorry for this inconvenience." Well, what can he do?

He orders a straight black coffee instead, no sugar or anything but the smell of roasted coffee beans. His fingers start to sting again, but from the hot beverage he holds in the palm of his hand. He moves quickly to set it down, not bothering to look at the table he had chosen to put the drink down.

He sighs at the relief of setting the drink down and pulls the chair back to sit. The wind nearly gets knocked out his chest when he looks up and sees who was seated in the table in front of him, sitting in the opposite seat of his. He had a perfect view of the good looking stranger who had made him nervous earlier.

This wasn't going to help him at all, huh?

He swallows his nerves and reminds himself, "I'm Kim fucking Namjoon." He takes his sticker-adorned laptop out of his backpack, along with a blue trademark Koya pen and a roughed up composition journal that had held his thoughts during the time he's had writer's block. Popping an Airpod into his right ear and leaving his left empty to hear the sounds around the cafe, he begins to write.

At first, Namjoon had started strong. He'd managed to get a few lines down and slowly he felt himself melting into his chair, legs bouncing up and down in annoyance. He hadn't realized the noise his legs were making as they collided with the smooth floor until a rich voice sounded from across him.

"Are you alright there?" The voice was strong, Namjoon had naturally felt himself drawn to it.

He looks up with slightly wide eyes and he feels the world stop around him. The voice had come from a tan-skinned person, sporting the finest clothing Namjoon had ever seen, and that says a lot coming from Namjoon, who he himself is a millionaire.

You had an all black attire, black dress shoes, black button up, black tie, black earrings, you name it. The only faint color on you was a sterling silver watch that wrapped around your wrist, screaming 'I'm rich.'

Namjoon admits it. He felt like a highschool-er all over again. His heart skipped a few beats as he made eye contact with your curious eyes.

He stumbles over his words, he curses the way his clumsiness reaches his ability to speak. It doesn't help that you're seated there with a small smile, enough to make his jaw drop.

His voice comes out an octave higher than usual, "Yeah! I-I'm just a bit stuck on something. Sorry, was I bothering you? I can move if it's a problem-!"

"What? Oh, no- I didn't mean it that way. You seemed a bit... unsettled, that's all." You say, cutting off his rambling, smiling a little more to yourself. Seems like you've made him nervous.

He reminds himself there's no reason to be nervous, right? His voice comes out a little more stable this time. "I guess you could say that. I'm having a bit of trouble writing on ... a work of mine." He decides to keep the fact that it's a song he's supposed to release soon, the last thing he needs is you finding out who he is and causing a commotion.

He takes a single glance back to his bodyguards, who are watching his moves to assure his safety, but finds himself a bit shocked when he sees two unknown bodyguards standing on the opposite sides of his.

He scratches his head and decides to voice his thoughts, "You have bodyguards... too?"

You raise your eyebrows and slowly look over to the side and see your two trusted bodyguards and four unknown ones standing there awkwardly, confused as to why there's more of them.

You and Namjoon look back at each other slowly and you see a smile creep up onto his eyes as you laugh out loud. "Guess we're both important, huh?"

He laughs, "Seems so,"

His hand extends out to meet yours, he guesses he'll know what your fingers feel on his. "I'm Kim Namjoon, it's nice to meet you."

"Y/N L/N. Likewise, Namjoon."

Maybe coming to the cafe was a good idea.








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lets pretend this was how 'my universe' was written :) !!!


let me stop being delulu bye.

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