𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍, 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐍

k . n . j ー the king

THE BOISTEROUS MUSIC echoed through the rickety apartment complex. Namjoon stared up at the crumbling ceiling, white paint slowly pealing off. He had fallen asleep earlier that morning, curtains closed, shutting out the light, damning it from ever reaching into the walls he had been confined by.

His castle smelt musty, white sheets stained with tears that he could never hold in. The room bore little warmth, Namjoon turned over to his side, nothing. No one. There was no one beside him. It had been almost a month since he departed. He had left without ever saying a word, without ever telling him that he was leaving. He was someone that Namjoon wanted too badly to forget.

He couldn't, he could never forget him.

The smell of soap on his skin, the gloss of his hair. The taste of his lips. Namjoon laid on his back once again. Staring still at the ceiling, looking over each and every single crack. How he wished winter would turn back into autumn, how he wanted to be surrounded by deciduous trees shedding their leaves. Walking hand in hand with his lover, the heat rushing to their cheeks, red noses and wide smiles.

It was beautiful. Namjoon was once a king, his castle proudly stood around him, his people bowing down, shouting "long live the king!" But how quickly did that king fall when his queen was taken from him.

"Hey! Hey! Namjoon!" A younger man, Namjoon forgot his name, was tugging at his shirt, pulling him. Namjoon stared at the youngers face. "What do you want?" He managed to whisper, barely audible. His lips were cracked and dry, his heart and soul mourning, his eyes lustrous with tears.

"Someone is here to see you, he was bothering the kids next door, someone named, what was it again...T-Tae-Taehyung?" Namjoon's eyes widened in surprise, he hastily wiped the tears from his eyes and sat up. "Did he say he was here for something?" Namjoon inquired, taking one of many shirts scattered around his apartment and putting it on.

"No, he said nothing. But Namjoon, I was wondering, tonight-"

"Do you think he is in a hurry?" The younger was hurt by Namjoon's interruption, he bowed his head in despair and nodded his head. Namjoon smiled impatiently and walked out of the room, leaving the younger male alone. Taehyung stood in the hallway, his cheeks were stained with tears and his eyes were red and bloodshot. The boy that played with fire, they called him.

"Taehyung?" Namjoon mumbled, he had not seen him for weeks, the most fruitful friendship that they had shared ended, weeks ago. Due to reasons Namjoon wanted to forget, reasons he would never forget. Namjoon laughed, a short, hollow laugh. "Taehyung, I never thought I would say your name ever again," Namjoon stated biting his lip, the younger looked up at him in concern.

"Namjoon, I don't want to bother you for longer than I have, I wanted to ask you a favour." Taehyung replied, the confidence and authority returning to his voice.
"Really now? A favour?" Taehyung nodded, he looked at Namjoon in sympathy.

"It wasn't me Namjoon, it wasn't, no believes me-" Namjoon stopped him with the cold stare that he gave Taehyung.

"What is this favour? I just want you out of my sight, you filthy animal," he spat, everything seemed to be fading, Taehyung's expression didn't budge. He was normal again, he was Kim Taehyung, the boy that played with fire, the boy that burned.

"I need some money, I'm leaving this hellhole," Namjoon smirked.

"And what makes you entitled to leave this 'hellhole', hm? All of us are still stuck here, you prick!" Namjoon shouted throwing his hands up. Taehyung took a step closer to Namjoon.

"I just want the money Namjoon, I'm sick of being treated like shit," Taehyung replied, uninterested in the speech that Namjoon had prepared for him, "so please, give me the money and I'll be out of here."

Namjoon glared at the younger, his eyes burning with anger. But Namjoon could not hurt him, no. He would not hurt him, that wasn't something he would do. He ran back into his room and lifted the mattress, a small lockbox was placed beneath. Namjoon took the box out and searched for the key underneath the carpet. After rattling the key around a few times in the keyhole, the box opened with a clack, revealing the treasure that it held inside. The last of his kingdom.

Taehyung had wandered into the room and was standing behind Namjoon. He opened his mouth to speak, but didn't say anything. Namjoon stared at the papers inside the lockbox and sighed.

"Here, I hope this will help you," he mumbled, turning to face Taehyung. He was angry, anger burnt his heart. But he couldn't hurt others, no.

"Thank you," Taehyung managed to mutter, taking the money and pushing it messily into the pocket of his jeans. Namjoon cringed. "That money means a lot to me, respect it, don't go buying drugs and alcohol for that little gang of yours," Namjoon uttered, staring into the eyes of the younger.

"I won't, I told you. I'm leaving this hellhole, everything here means nothing to me."
Taehyung looked hurt as he said this.

"Even...?" Namjoon mumbled.

"Yes, even him. He believes you," Namjoon nodded, his face unchanging. Taehyung gave the older male a brief smile and turned to leave. Namjoon didn't stay and watch as Taehyung slowly walked further into the distance, he walked back inside and laid down on the bed. The boy that Namjoon had forgotten the name of had gone. 'Great, everyone leaves me.' He thought to himself, letting out an exasperated sigh.

He closed his eyes, and whispered, under his breath. The image of his lover branded forever in his mind.

"What am I to do, when most of me still belongs to you?"

? ? ?