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—"you can't change a single thing!"
NOVEMBER 3: KIM NAMJOON
==
"one caramel mocha! except without the caramel, because we're kind of out of caramel syrup."
it's been far too long since namjoon has been in this situation—and yet, at the same time, barely any time has passed. scattered files, papers, and binder clips litter his crammed desk, situated between the glass wall of the agency and the sole two trashcans of the office room ("the rookie spot", as his colleagues like to call it). he sits in the same, squeaky leather chair, but he's far from the person he was more than a month ago. he's stronger, smarter. maybe, he guesses, it took a demon and a broken man to teach him that.
"better forfeit the coffee boy title, hoseok," namjoon grins, leaning back. "i've yet to witness the day where you actually get my coffee order right."
"you make it sound like i'm some sort of barista," scoffs the intern. but he gives the styrofoam cup to the other without a moment of hesitation, his arm cast delivering the action stiffly. "and besides, i'm technically only here to get experience and hours. my coffee boy career is an act of selfless, devoted volunteering."
"the gift cards on our boss's desk beg to differ."
"what's wrong with a little appreciation?" hoseok dramatically says, faking offense. "besides, i kind of need a job here. those gifts are...just a bit of assistance."
"sounds like a suck-up thing to do."
"let's hope he doesn't consider it that."
namjoon laughs. it's taken him three days since coming back from useol of being back at the detective agency to fall into habit —much quicker than he expected. maybe he's been at this for so long, it's hard to lose his working attitude. (or maybe it has something to do with the optimistic orange-haired coffee boy by his side, never failing to keep a smile, even when the sparkle in his eyes seems to dim. maybe that's truly what's helped him.)
missing two weeks in all—one from going to useol, the second to recuperate from everything that happened—could very well have jeopardized namjoon's relatively stable career, regardless if he had a medical excuse for the second week. hell, he can't blame his boss if he were to deduct his paycheck, or even fire him; it's not like namjoon has been a star worker lately. but for some reason, he can't find a single ounce of regret inside of himself. everything he did these past few weeks has been monumentally more important than he could have ever accomplished from writing about some celebrity's new engagement. he knows that without a doubt.
namjoon remembers the emotional chaos that dark night on the twenty-first, driving to the hospital with a wrecked car full of wrecked people. he remembers the shocked, completely exhausted looks the nurses at the hospital had on (namjoon couldn't help but feel pity for them; he can't imagine how awful hospital rounds must've been at that time), and the incredulous look the receptionist gave haewon when she limped to the desk, slammed her hands on the counter, and slurred, "sorry to bother, but we're beat to hell right now. think you can fix us?" then her, jimin, and hoseok were being wheeled into emergency rooms.
