When your countdown appeared on your wrist right on the morning of your eighteenth birthday, you had thought that perhaps the universe was on your side, especially since the final seconds were already ticking so soon. You just never expected to have...
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chapter viii. talking slow
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There is nothing that Namjoon despises more than waking up to a warm morning with vicious throbbing happening inside his head.
The ache feels so potent that he can hear the sound of each throb echoing against his temple. He can even feel it all the way to his toes, feel how the world seems to move with it even when he is still lying in bed, unmoving. The kind of feeling that is completely unwelcome that he dreads opening his eyes.
He may not have always been a morning person, but Namjoon isn't someone who would find himself in this predicament during a regular weekday, jeopardising what should have been a normally productive day for him. For years, Namjoon has maintained an image of himself where he is in complete control of his own self and need, always knows how to keep his composure in any given situation possible.
And yet, for the first time, he finds himself breaking all the rules and habits that he has created for himself. He can feel that contentment and control slipping out of his fingers only because he gave in to his sorrow. Even his body feels as if it is no longer his own, when every move he makes becomes a struggle and whatever he does only escalates it further.
Fucking hangover.
The entire room seems to tilt over whenever he tries to get up, while the spinning still doesn't stop even when he closes his eyes to put everything to a halt, just like how he feels his world tilting and spinning in all directions. And it has been this way ever since the night he saw you at Bovine.
