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an unsuspecting hacker awakens in a mysterious mansion with one of the most dangerous women in the country sharing his sheets. naturally, complications happen.
—•—
exceeding anybody's expectations, kim namjoon's terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day begins with him waking up in an ironically comfortable bed and sporting the worst headache of his life.
for a moment, he is on the verge of panicking. luckily, fucking around with the law has made him accustomed to strange situations — and so he calms himself enough to think with a clear head.
okay.
first, rational questions only.
1) why does his head hurt so much?
...
...
...
yea, he's stumped.
maybe it's the morning sickness making him sluggish, or perhaps he's lost any ounce of intelligence he has had overnight, but it'd go without saying that something is very, very wrong. despite being the clumsiest asshole the world can offer, he can testify that he may also be one of the smartest assholes to ever live.
so, considering that he is taking longer than 20 seconds to answer a simple, straightforward question, he can easily conclude that he is most definitely not right in the head today.
he covers his mouth with his hand and breathes out — and immediately scrunches up his face as the pungent smell of alcohol permeates his senses.
only one thought comes to mind: wow.
he is hungover.
things are definitely off to a great start.
so. this brings about the next question; 2) how in the living hell did he end up this way?
now, usually, kim namjoon would put that high-performance brain of his to good use and try to recall his memories of the night before — like any logical human being would to put two and two together.
unfortunately for him, he has been rendered completely and utterly shitfaced.
and he's got a migraine painful enough to be compared to dropping one's head on a mountain of legos.
in conclusion; he won't get any thinking done in the entirety of this day. go figure.
slowly, namjoon lets out a groan and sits up on the bed, soft sheets bunched up in his fist as he yawns. the other hand is brought up to his hair, moving to ruffle the monstrous bird's nest sitting atop his head. through the sheer fabric of the curtains, morning sunlight seeps through and spills onto the carpeted flooring in streams of golden rays, a small strip of light in the soft ambience of darkness.
