Sweet Tooth | k.nj. ✔

팔: a bunch of grandfather clocks

It was already onerous for Namjoon to fathom why would his senior allow a man with whom she did not even have a substantial rapport, to walk into her establishment at infelicitous hours and demand to have a chat with her whilst her patients impatiently tapped their feet away and sounded no less than a bunch of grandfather clocks. It was either she did not care for the consequences anymore, having achieved the prerogative of watching people rush in at literally any point that she may decide to open her services for them, or she genuinely was unaware of the ill-reputation that was seeming as imminent in case such a behavior tended to prolong indefinitely.

Namjoon clasped his hands together, restlessness threatening to break him apart evermore menacingly with each second that passed by without him catching Ewan departing from Youngmi's chamber. Dead silence loomed above his head— courtesy of the coltish female beside him keeping her lips sealed, very unsurprisingly— causing the repeated clanking of the receptionist's pen against her desk to resonate as loudly as a streak of lightning ripping through the serene night sky.

Frustrated, Namjoon held his head with the tip of his fingers, immediately feeling the damp surface of his skin. It was perhaps due to him being on tenterhooks all this while that he unconsciously sweated so profusely, or quite similarly, could also be the result of him resting in one of the remotest corners of the waiting area where air conditioning possibly could not reach him. Even though the latter appeared more convincing, Namjoon knew deep down in his heart that his concern for Youngmi was what his condition had currently stemmed from.

However, the despair in his eyes soon drifted away when he finally discerned the doorknob to Youngmi's office to be twisting and turning. A slight conviction that he indeed was not so unlucky surfaced in Namjoon's mind when the figure emerging from the blinding lights turned out to be Ewan's. Namjoon sighed in relief, rotating his head to smile at everyone who may come in his line of sight only for it to droop the very next instant.

A poignant reminder that life was much more than just an easy play of variables, struck him straightaway when Youngmi followed Ewan out on the way.

Like a swift blow of air she would have exited the premises of her clinic— her brief gesture of informing her assistant regarding the same proving to be satisfactorily expeditious amidst the process— had Namjoon's croak been prevented from being disseminated in time.

"You're gonna leave your visitors stranded for the man?"

"Trying to talk it out with you was worthless after all, it seems." Youngmi commented. Namjoon sneered.

"Isn't it the other way round, though, senior? Have a look at this lady right here," the man beckoned at the female whom he had acquainted himself with not too long ago. "She's been waiting for her turn for as long as I can remember. You can at least pretend to care about your patients if you can't do it from your heart anymore. It's not that hard, you know?"

"For Goodness' sake, Namjoon, I'm as much entitled to taking some time off my job as you. I mean, what are you doing here? Do you not have your own issues to deal with? Your own patients to tend to? No, like seriously, what are you doing here?" Youngmi reiterated, keeping at bay all the thoughts that may provoke her into reflecting upon her derisive stance towards Namjoon.