Kim Namjoon - I don't believe in love, and if you are looking for that in me and us, then you should stop right here, Y/N.
Y/N - I'm not searching for love either, and I don't want you to feel anything special for me.
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Y/N - Why don't you i...
When Y/N left to go see Hannie, I couldn't shake her image from my mind. The way she was shivering. The way her breath trembled. That cracked voice whispering, "I can't lose him."
It hit something deep inside me—not in a romantic way, no. But the way you ache for someone you care about deeply. A friend. A companion. Someone you've come to respect beyond words.
The way she was shivering. The way her hand clutched her chest like she couldn't breathe. It broke something in me. She was having a panic attack—and I don't even think she realized it.. I just hoped... really hoped... that whatever was broken between her and Hannie could be fixed before it left lasting cracks.
After she left, I came back to my apartment and poured myself a glass of water. I stood by the window for a few moments, watching the city blur into streaks of yellow and blue. Then I shifted my focus—trying to pull myself back into the rhythm of life.
I sat down at my desk and started going over our upcoming workshop schedule. Y/N and I would be traveling together, but to two different countries over the next month—fifteen days in one, fifteen in another. A change of scene. A deep dive into creativity.
No media. No flashing lights. Just pure learning. Art. Music. Healing.
A part of me was actually looking forward to it. It felt like the right time to be immersed in something meaningful again. I found myself opening tabs of galleries and museums in those countries—marking down ones I'd always wanted to visit but never had time for. I wondered if Y/N would want to tag along on some of those visits, if she felt up to it. Knowing her, she'd love the modern art section, probably talk a little too much about one sculpture, and then get lost in her own thoughts for hours.
It made me smile.
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And while I was preparing our notes and looking into the details, I made a mental note to keep an eye on her during the tour. Not because she needed saving. But because sometimes, even the strongest people need someone who just quietly stays by their side.
I wasn't worried about her in terms of strength. I was just... hoping she finds clarity. Peace. Whatever answer she's looking for from Hannie—I hope she gets it. Both of them deserves that.
Day after tomorrow, we were leaving. A whole month away for this workshop—two countries, two entirely new environments, and a schedule packed with learning, composing, and soul-searching. It wasn't just a break from routine—it was a reset I didn't know I needed until now.
I opened my suitcase and stood staring at it for a moment. Then, like clockwork, I opened my phone's Notes app and started typing: "Workshop Packing List - Month Long"
Clothes, chargers, journals, sketch pads, plug adapters, mic covers, earphones, neck pillow, comfortable shoes, vitamins... Item by item, I added everything I knew I'd need. Not just for me, but also keeping Y/N in mind. I'd send it to her later—she always says she forgets socks or something equally random last minute. This would help.
