Kismet (Namjin Mpreg)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Eight:

(Kismet)

Seokjin's POV:

The sun was too bright, burning and leaving a mark on my pale, beautiful face. Sweat roamed every inch of my body, showering my skin with icy hot sprinkles of water. To be honest, I don't understand why I wore that pink crew neck sweater. At that time, It felt like a nice thing to wear. I wanted to impress Namjoon with my fashion sense.

And it did. As well as his mother.
I hadn't known that she was a fashion designer. It was purely coincidental; not that it matter. I was there simply for Namjoon. He was graduating and he had invited us, what more could I want.

The picture that we took together is ingrained in my brain. I haven't thought of that day in years. That picture is the evidence of our love, the only evidence that we existed. Of course, Seokjoon is the living proof our love but as ridiculously as it sounds, the picture is the real proof that we were are a thing, well the begging of something more than just friends.

And now that day is pressed play in my brain, the moments as fresh as if I was I leaving it right this second. But I'm not. I can feel, sense, hear, all of this sensory receptors but at the same time, I feel like I'm just watching it. The old and the new me.

I don't know why I'm relieving this. I do feel guilty for taking Seokjoon away with out telling him the truth but I don't understand why I am feeling even more guilty.

I have a feeling that it's the fact that my mother is suing me and asking for Taehyung's custody, although she actually has his custody, that perplexes me. I feel guilty because I am now understanding what I did wrong. I took Seokjoon the opportunity to meet his father and vice versa. No matter how much I wanted to protect Namjoon's life and give him the freedom he deserve, I was too selfish and took away the chance of him deciding whether he wanted to be a part of Seokjoon's life.

That day is my torture; my guilt trap. Because that day is when made love, sealed our bodies with each others touch, explored our own maps, maneuvered our ways into trust; and reassured that we were doing was a symbol of our souls reconnecting with each other.

And now that trust is gone, the map is gone another path. Our souls have left each other, too broken to see eye to eye all because I ruined it. I ruined it for him.

There's one question that his been burning at edge at the base part of the brain were my memory is stored: Was he suffering all this time like I was? How silly of a question for me to ask. How obvious was it for me to be blind?

I chuckle, turning my head into the other side, draping my leg on top of the other. My eyes were so dry and alert. It took me four years to figure it out that I'm an idiot. Of course he is suffering.

I woke up three hours ago from a nightmare, the same vivid scenario that I keep relieving in my head like a scratch record right this second. The alarm won't be long until it starts ringing and it'll be time to wake Seokjoon up for elementary school.

I can feel the dread coming, the same old routing catching me into sadness. My eyes peer at the sky that was slowly turning into morning. Watching morning unfold is breathtaking at the same time that it is heartbreaking. When do you watch the morning rise better when you are sad and troubled?

Just like his prediction, his alarm shakes and shouts on top of his night stand. The rattling of the table, forces him to turn around and tap the top of his alarm clock. With tiredness, he drags his body to grab his slippers from his closet. Last night, he had forgotten to bring his slippers to his bed, where he always places them so that in the morning he can put them on.