Nights in the Studio - Taejoon

25

Taehyung's POV

I see my reflection in the bathroom mirror. I'm still dressed, and I know exactly what my shirt covers, everything under my pants.

This can be dangerous. I remember how it was the last time I took a shower with Jimin, everything that caused. I know this is not the best way, but if I want to learn to say no and better understand Namjoon's love for me, this is a good option.

I want to understand if the two loves are the same; if loving means the same in different people. I want to see the facet of him.

Namjoon has seen me naked before but nothing strange happened except the first time: it was by accident, and after that he couldn't look me in the eye for a week. It seemed tender to me, one of those moments that show up from time to time in him, the tender side of him. It is part of the duality of him.

But that was years ago and now I don't know if it will be the same. A part of me wants to believe that it is so, the other would be happy if it wasn't. However, the only thing I am sure of is that I must face what happens and learn to refuse.

This is how I begin to undress in front of the mirror, piece by piece, letting the fabric fall until there is nothing but my cold skin in front of the mirror. I notice my marks: some hickeys and scratches from last night, Jimin left them when he fucked me without doing it. Looking back was creepy; That duality of his, it's creepy.

I get out of my pants and walk to the tub, get in it, and turn on the faucet. The water slowly collides with my body as the temperature increases every second; after a short time, I decide that it is time to start putting some soaps or essential oils. I find a lavender one and smile at the motion, pouring it without thinking. Soon steam permeated by the sweet aroma fills the room.

I love lavender. It's not suffocating or too strong by nature, it just depends on you learning how to handle it. It is like people in that sense: in that it is not that they are very complicated or that they cannot be controlled, but that it is a matter of understanding them and adapting to their nature. That's something my grandmother told me.

This smell reminds me of her: sitting in the dining room preparing the side dishes for dinner with quiet music in the background, her cakes, and the tender way she looked at me when I fell and cried. She filled me with kisses, after tea and her arms, always smelling like this. I remember her with me as she in her embrace told her that she hoped that one day she would see me on television.

I don't cry because she told me not to. She told me that it was okay to cry for a while but after two years she would stop because if she did, every tear of mine would be hers. She told me that love is not just suffering, but about making others happy, giving oneself completely.

'You'll understand someday'

I wonder where she is now, what she feels about me now that I have completely forgotten how to love. I would like to see her again because after her death I never got to visit her on her anniversary. I want to see how she is, clean her space. Put some of the photos of her and mine. I want to see my family.

I hug my legs and add my head between them, I close the faucet because the tub is at the perfect level. I stop to stare into space.

Then someone knocks on the door, and I remember where I am, I drop to my knees and pronounce permission. Namjoon walks in with a defiant look that seems to dissolve once he looks at my drenched face in the thin white mist. He closes the door behind him.

I watch him stand for a moment and then I reach my arms over the edge of the tub, rest my chin on them.

"Lavender?" is the first thing he says, and I remember. Yes, Namjoon knows.