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"It doesn't matter how he went there, the thing that matters is, the security in here is not as promising as we thought so I guess I'm sending someone to keep a look over and around him, I'm not trusting you over him anymore." Namjoon nodded in accord as Jungkook spoke, hurling his head back in sheer annoyance, finally leaving the staff no opportunity to object.
After they promised not to spare even the smallest moment of inattention, he got up and gave the door one last look, hearing the muffled cries of protest from behind it. He and Namjoon exited the building together, ignoring the terrible screams as he sat on the driver's seat and saw Namjoon do the same thing next to him.
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He peered out his floor-to-roof glass window, which let in the evening light. He closed his laptop and looked over his wrist watch as the sun began to set, spreading a fiery orange colour across it. It said, "6.47," as he moved his chair back and reached for his suit, which was propped up over the headboard.
As he opened his phone, he received a notice that said, "I'm home." His lips twitch with astonishment. He told her to inform him as soon as she arrives home, and she has taken his words more seriously. He exited his room, sliding the device back into his pocket and nodding as the other employees greeted him with a chorus of goodnights.
Jumping inside his car, the next moment it roared to life, running through the busy highway. Eager to meet her, he sped up, though not enough to break any traffic rules or the promise he had given his wife when he asked him not to risk driving after the last time he did and got hurt.
His eyes flashed red with the street light before falling over the date over his screen images the car, and the date on it, the soft smile fading the next moment when he take in the realisation, as he closed his eyes to look at the screen one more time, and seeing the same his head felt back.
Rubbing his template, he resumed driving, and the grey tiled building came into view in no time, the lining up luminous white light in the front while the purple one inside could be seen from the porch, where he parked the vehicle, before stepping over the steps and tapping away the password as the door opened.
He stumbled into the living room, where the lights were gloomy just the way he liked it. The living room was vacant as he moved his eyes around the expanded space, failing to locate the only figure he was looking for. The soft, humming sound from the back of the wall caught his attention; he guessed it might have come from the kitchen.
He loosened his tie and opened his suit, tossing it on the couch. He was bothered by how he felt suffocating in it. He also undid his upper buttons, revealing his collarbone as he walked into the kitchen and saw her frying eggs on a pan, headphone over her head, her body swaying possibly to the beats, a soft humming that occasionally transformed into a convincing voice full of melody.
She can sing extremely well, so it's not like it bothers him. He leans sideways to the bar and watches her struggle to keep up with the long silk strands falling over her face. She attempts to switch them behind, but they keep coming back. Those hairs, he enjoys running his fingers through them, swiping them away from her face, and when necessary, he wouldn’t mind pulling them with his fist.
