Having Seokjin as a temporary roommate wasn't all that bad; actually it felt pretty good living with someone who valued privacy just as much as I did. Now he doesn't live in anything large or fancy, but a small, minimalist studio apartment.
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The loft has two twin-sized beds lined up beside one another, a wooden screen separating it from the main common area. He doesn't watch TV, so he has his own laptop monitor or phone for entertainment purposes.
He doesn't pester me, unless I leave a mess around. And doesn't question my every move. It feels nice, almost as if I were independent.
Hoseok and I have been spending a lot of time together too, so its not like I'm always home. He and Namjoon both came over for dinner, and instead of a brooding silence, the apartment was filled with comforting chatter and warm bodies.
Namjoon and Seokjin sat at the table, chatting among themselves about the bar and other accommodations they could make in the future, while Hoseok and I retreated to the beds in the loft.
"How's the studio repairs coming along?"
I ask quietly, letting him rest his head on my lap while he held a dripping beer on his stomach.
"Good actually. I'm hoping they'll be finished in a few months." He speaks plainly. Last week's storm had practically destroyed his dance studio's floors, so he spent a big chunk of his salary from performing odd jobs to cover repairs.
"Till then, your boss is letting us use the stage as our practice grounds. Just as long as I don't mess with his setup."
I chuckle and nod my head. Namjoon Hyung is pretty proud of his speaker-light systems. It's a private pleasure of his-
"And what about you? How long are you going to stay with Seokjin?" He asks me, looking up and running his fingers through my hair.
"Ahhh.. I'm not sure. I really like it here, but as soon as I make enough to get back up on my feet I'll probably try to look for my own place."
Hoseok has become very touchy lately; touching and playing with my hair. Sometimes I wonder if he listens to me when i talk, or pays more attention to my fingers when he grabs at my hand. He always looks as if he's thinking of something, yet, when he opens his mouth it all comes out as gibberish.
Hoseok takes another swig of his beer and digs into his pocket, now sitting up and holding out a box of cigarettes.
"You smoke?"
I question, but he just chuckles and shakes his head. "I confiscated these form Tae this afternoon. But I forgot I had them in my pocket." He tosses the box into the trashcan, placing his hand on my cheek.
"Don't worry, the only drug that I'd let kill me is your smile."
