i'd pick more daisies. [namjoon x reader]

beloved with a kiss.

  "Angels and archangels may have gathered there, cherubim and seraphim thronged the air; but His mother only, in her maiden bliss, worshipped the beloved with a kiss."  

"So you guys all moved here when you were fourteen?"

"That's right."

It was Saturday. A month ago, you followed Namjoon down a pothole and into an underground rave. Thankfully, this was a more calm get-together at a coffee shop. You were deep into conversation with him about how he ended up here from Korea. It was quite an interesting story.

"It was hard to run away here, trust me. Expensive. Unfortunately, we had to leave a few boys behind but... It was worth it in the end. That's what I think. I wouldn't sacrifice this kind of freedom for anything, even if the first few years were rough."

You hummed in understanding, spinning the contents of your mug around with a spoon, staring into it as you thought about what he was telling you. He valued his music a lot, you knew. He was willing to run from home and move to an entirely different country to have a shot at his passion. That was both scary and very admirable. "But what about you?" Namjoon asked, wanting your attention to be on him and not the coffee cup. "I bet you didn't spend your whole life wanting to be a record label secretary for a huge asshole."

You snorted with laughter and put down your dripping, coffee-coated spoon on the table. "Nah, of course not. I don't know anyone who dreams of that," you clarified. "I always wanted to perform. To sing, to act, to play instruments. When I was younger, I had this weird yearning with anything to do with music. Whether it was High School Musical or some random CDs, I would just loop it over and over. I liked writing my own music but..." You trailed off with a shrug and sipped your drink again. "Obviously, the older you get, the more people tell you to get realistic. Stop being so silly and think about real career choices." You huffed through your nose at the thought of the many teachers who had echoed those words to you throughout your teen years. "Even after majoring in music, I was still told that. Hey, at least my useless music major landed me with my favourite guy! Xavier!"

Namjoon had a.. sad smile. Apologetic, almost. He knew what it felt like, you could tell just from his steady gaze on your emotions. You both locked eyes in silence. You opened your mouth to say something. Anything. However, your phone buzzed loudly on the table. "Oh, speak of the devil," you snorted, picking the phone up and realising it was a text from Xavier. Namjoon perked up and began grinning because he seemed to love the ridiculous texts you got from your boss. "What does it say? Something about the new genre of music he just invented? I'm eager," he asked, leaning back in his chair, ready for whatever will hit him. But you shake your head. "Sorry to disappoint, Joonie, but it's just him asking if I can go get coffee with him. Again." Namjoon smirked slyly. "It seems I bet him to it," he drawled over his coffee mug with a wink (which, unsurprisingly, made you go weak in the knees). You nodded. "And thank God you did."

It was early Spring now, and your heavy umbrella was replaced with a lacy parasol. Jin had bought it for you, he called it an early birthday present (even though he didn't know when your birthday was). You liked it nonetheless.  Namjoon adjusted his glasses after paying for your two beverages. "Shall we?" he asked in a stupidly posh voice, extending his hand. You rolled your eyes and ignore his hand, instead opening your parasol as you walked out. You were revisiting the nice, cute and bright section of the city. The one studded with paper lanterns, ice cream shops and sun. You and Namjoon passed the theatre, looking at each poster that was on the wall. "Wouldn't being an actor fun?" You mused, looking up at Namjoon who shrugged a bit. "Seems like it'd be pretty exhausting but, other than that, yeah. Only if I get to play a super sexy dude called Rap Monster, though."

"Oh, riiiight," you drawled but stopped in front of the theatre entrance. "You know." You paused as you half-turned towards him. "The theatre owner doesn't come in on Saturdays." Namjoon stood silently, raising an eyebrow. "Which means we're going to break and enter to do what exactly?"

You laughed, taking his arm and leading him in. "It's not breaking and entering," you promised. "The employees are here. I just want to use... their cool instruments and stage. Which will be empty!" Your reassurance didn't make a big difference as you walked with Namjoon down the theatre halls, peeking into every room until you found a big empty one. It had a large stage and a shiny grand piano. You pushed the door, which was thankfully unlocked, and let yourself in. "See? It's so nice in here!"

He nodded in agreement, pulling his scarf off and placing it on the piano stool, looking around. He was thinking about how nice it'd be to be able to perform his music on a stage like that, with a crowd so big that it filled every seat in a huge theatre. He stopped thinking when you asked him, "Can you play?" He looked down at the grand piano, so shiny that he could see his reflection. He chuckled. "A little bit. Yoongi is very good at piano and he taught me." Your eager expression pressured him to go further and sit on the stool, staring at the keys. "I might not be the best, remember." He kept reminding you.

You scooted in beside him on the stool, watching his hands glide over the keys, playing a tune you were unfamiliar with. You still enjoyed it, of course. Namjoon hummed under the music, keeping on track with every beat. You wriggled excitedly every time he moved onto the chorus or a new verse, enjoying the way he softly melted all the tunes together into one. At one point in time, you found yourself not looking at the piano keys, or his hands, but at him. Namjoon. Completely entranced by music, every note reviving his passion, every key reminding him of why he was here. His glasses reflected your unblinking stare of admiration. He smiled a little when he realised you were staring. You blushed, looking back down at the keys whilst he finished the final chorus, drawing it to a close. 

You gave a very gentle, quiet applause. You smiled widely when he looked at you. "Did you like it?" Namjoon asked, genuinely curious. You responded with a frantic nod. You clasped your hands together, blushing for some reason. "I loved it! You're really talented, you know..." Namjoon mirrored your red cheeks while rubbing the back of his neck and standing up. He thanked you quietly but was interrupted by a nervous employee swinging the door open. You both raised an eyebrow at him. "I-I'm supposed to tell you to leave," he laughed nervously, fading away back into the hallway as you both began walking out. You couldn't contain your laughter the instant you stepped out of the building, gripping onto Namjoon's jacket sleeve so you didn't fall from all the chortling. He couldn't help but laugh, too. If you were happy then so was he.

"That was pointless," Namjoon said, holding his breath. "But also really, really fun. Did you see the look on the guy's face? He probably thought we were trying to steal something." His laugh echoed the corner of the building  when you both leaned on the wall next to the bright posters. You both stood by a row of potted flowers, used as decoration by the theatre. Namjoon leaned over, quickly plucking a daisy from the dirt-filled pot and handing it to you. "Here," he said, tucking it into your front blouse pocket, even if it barely fit. You took it out of there, inspecting it and feeling the soft white petals on your fingertips curiously. "Thank you," you said with the fainest smile on your lips. You twirled the flower around your fingers as Namjoon called a cab for you, seeing as it was turning dark. However, it was bright enough for the late afternoon sky to be lit by the sun and not the pretty street lamps. 

When your cab parked at the theatre double doors, you looked at Namjoon. You waved, even if you didn't want to. He walked you over to the cab silently, his hands in his pockets. "So, this was fun," he concluded outside of the cab which patiently waited. You agreed. "It was. Very fun." Namjoon paused.

"Same time next week?"

"You bet."