Favourite Girl

Chapter 3

The rest of the day dragged, and for the second time in 24 hours you couldn't concentrate because of Namjoon. For the most part even the music that was playing from your now recharged phone went unnoticed in your ear. Only on occasion would your mind shift from your vacant day dream and you'd realise that you hadn't even heard the song that was just ending begin in the first place. Your book lay face down on the counter for most of the day. You occasionally made to pick it up but lost concentration before your hand had even pressed against its cover.

 Finally, it was time for the end of the day. Just like you did everyday you flicked off the lights and locked the door but this time your heart dropped slightly as you stepped out into the bitter winter cold. That certain tall figure wasn't stood waiting for you outside the door like he had been that morning and that made you feel uncomfortably sad. You had no idea why you felt that way, he hadn't said he would be waiting but for some reason you had been holding onto a little thread of hope that he might just be.

As you walked home your mind began to wander towards the future and the feelings that were beginning to blossom far to fast in your chest. You were already aware that a combination of the two could never exist. Once Namjoon's new album was finished he'd be going home and you'd become nothing more then the girl he left behind. That was assuming that he felt the same way, which in your current mind set you highly doubted.

Suddenly you were more then glad that Namjoon hadn't been waiting for you. As you did with everything else you had talked yourself out of pursuing this, whatever this was. You weren't built for the kind of life that Namjoon would bring to the table and be it as friend, boyfriend or anything else...you were far from prepared to lose anyone else.

By the time you reached the front door of your house you were out of breath and close to tears. You took a second to compose yourself. You lent your forehead against the wooden frame of the door and let the air back into your lungs to the best of your ability. You tried to concentrate on the song that was playing in your ear, to try and shift your mind from reality for the briefest of moments. Much to your dismay you discovered it was none other then Namjoon's voice singing through your headphones. How could you really expect any less? As he himself had discovered yesterday, your playlist was full of his songs. You pulled your headphones roughly from your ears and thrust them into your bag, beyond frustrated with how you were feeling.

You finally opened the door and began to stomp towards the stairs, needing to be wrapped within your own space for a while.

'Y/N? Is that you?' You heard your father shout from the kitchen. You groaned a little but made your way towards the room.

'Hey Dad.' You said as you entered the small but cozy space.

'Y/N...' He looked up from the pan he was stirring over the stove. 'Woah, are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost.' He left the pan and came over to you, worried eyes searching yours.

'I'm okay Dad, I'm just tired.' You replied, not wanting to worry him.

'Okay, well I'm making dinner so come sit down okay?'

That was one of the best things about your father. He knew full well that you were lying. Tiredness had never been something that phased you, you had spent the last few years of your life in a state of complete exhaustion. However, despite that he didn't ask anymore. He knew better then anyone that if it was something he needed to know, or something that was hurting you that you would talk when you were ready. Pushing you into a conversation had never been his style and for that you were eternally grateful because you had the fantastic inability to talk about anything until you were completely ready. It could take anywhere from minutes to months for you to make your mouth work when it came to the inner workings of your feelings. Your father had seen you in the wake of the times it took months and although it wasn't a pretty sight, he had sat with you everyday in silence, hoping today would be the day. Even when those days turned to night he never gave up hope. Hope was something he reserved for you and you alone.