Fall For Me | Namjoon [√]

18: friends don't kiss

I stood before the front door leading to Namjoon's place. After knocking a few times, I could hear the sounds of shuffling coming from inside. I sincerely hoped he wouldn't break anything on his way to open the door but another thought crossed my mind too.

If I looked okay.

Without even realising, I was combing my tangled hair with my fingers and then mentally scoffing at myself, why the heck was I wondering if I looked good or not!

The door creaked a little open and a pair of suspicious eyes could be seen. Soon it fully opened revealing the tall, messy man in sweatshirt and pajamas standing in front of me.

"What are you doing here?" He asked arching his brows. His voice groggy and sounding deeper than the other days.

His eyes looked more swollen than usual, face too. His hair askew and sticking out to every direction possible. And I couldn't help but think that he literally looked like an egg today.

"It's afternoon," Namjoon said, holding up his oversized sleeves and rubbing his eyes.

"Are you sick?" I asked, knowing the answer was obvious. "Your class today was suddenly called off and I wondered why so—"

I trailed off intentionally. Even though Namjoon looked sick he kind of looked cute too, I guess.

"Ah, yeah." Namjoon slowly bobbed his head up and down, nodding to himself. "I am down with a cold. I guess it's because of the abrupt changes in the weather. I don't want anyone else to catch it, so you should go home too."

"I will." I agreed right away. "Before that, how's your cold? Do you need any medicines or."

"Yoongi is on his way to here, he'll bring the medicine. Go home now Soomi," he said, his voice cracking at the edges due to his cold. He took another step forwards so I wouldn't have the chance to barge inside.

"Alright, old man, I'm going!" I sneered at him, exasperatedly looking away then sizing him up again. "But did you have anything for lunch? I'll come back in five minutes, keep the door open for me."

I started running down the staircase, ignoring him calling out my name for further interrogation. Well, I just wanted to bring porridge, that was all.

It was a nice co incident that my arrogant brother, Jimin was under a cold too. Spring hadn’t still bade goodbye to Winter yet she was already melting into Summer, resulting in the city to have freezing nights and scalding days. Even Taehyung got a fever last week.

When I reached home, I bolted inside and sprinted towards the dining hall. As I was quickly pouring a portion of the hot porridge my mother had made for Jimin into a bowl, I shouted to the one spending their off-day by lying on the couch of the living room.

"Mom! I'm taking some porridge for my friend!" I said almost out of breath, this was the fastest I'd ever ran from Namjoon's place.

Mom peeked her head from the couch, ignoring the afternoon recap of her favourite drama playing on the TV screen. I could see her eyes glimmering from the short distance.

"Is he handsome?" Her eyes smirked evilly.

"Really mom?" I stopped wrapping up the bawl with a plastic wrapper for a second, but continued right after.

Mom let out a small sigh plopping down on the couch again. "Okay then if it's a 'she', is she pretty?"

"Mom, we can have this talk later." I let out a short puff of breath taking the bowl of porridge and my bag with me.

Mom hardly ever had holidays like this but it always ended up in that 'talk' but it was alright. If I was my daughter, I'd be worried too if that even made any sense.

Again, I ran back to Namjoon's place but this time I carefully climbed up the staircase so I wouldn't make a mess. I had only just realized that I could pack the porridge in an air-tight box instead. Then I wondered if there was even any boxes like that in the kitchen. After all, I'd seldom visited if not for searching for something to eat at least ten thousandth times the day.

The door was open and I entered like a cat. I took small steps and put the bowl down on the table of the living room.

Relief washed over me as I was done. But where was he? The place seemed unusually empty to me. So empty and silenced that I was hesitant to call out his name loudly.

I knew I shouldn't have been a peeping tom but I was curious, and the door leading to his whole place, the other rooms, and his bedroom were staring at me goggly eyed. I needed to find Namjoon and tell him to lock the front door to the least.

I couldn't help myself. Next thing I knew, I had taken a few more steps to a wooden door that was slightly ajar, as if it was telling me to open the Pandora's box.

And I did. I only creaked it half open and as I had presumed, it was Namjoon's bedroom. He was sleeping in this massive bed of his, preoccupied with books, a laptop and some sheets of paper. Only a little space was cleaned for him to sleep.

The whole room was empty other than that. Few cardboard boxes lying here and there. Since he was only here for a month, I guessed he probably didn't feel it necessary to unpack everything.

"Um, Namjoon. Can you close your front door?" I said, almost in a whisper. "I got you some porridge and..."

He didn't even shift. Which made me wonder if he was alive.

I hesitantly went inside the room. "D-did you die or hey.."

As I was mumbling, I had already sauntered close enough to him to see that he was soundly asleep, clutching tightly onto his soft blanket. Everything was white, his pillow, bedsheets, blanket, like it was some fairytale and he was the sleeping beauty.

"Hey," I called out, but nothing.

From what it looked like, he had been surely working hard and couldn't get enough sleep. Even his bed was a mess. So I thought maybe, I could stall for a few more minutes then wake him up.

I crouched down on the floor facing him. His face was close to mine, and I had a magic marker in my bag and I also had an unexplainable urge to pull a prank.

I had done this to Jimin, Jungkook and Taehyung a millionth time, though I didn't know if it was appropriate to pull it on Namjoon. Then I remembered, he had agreed to make a truce and be my friend.

I cautiously fished out the pen from my bag and leaned forward, so close that I could feel his breath fanning my nose.

With the tip of the pen almost touching the skin over his lips, I stopped. It felt like this had happened before. With his face next to mine and this heat spreading onto my cheeks. Then I realized, it was from the time when he had accidentally tripped on me.

When he was staring at me with his dark eyes wide, merely inches gap between us. I'd recalled that event, pictured it exactly as it was many times again without no reason, and every time my face and my ears heated up as if I was having a fever, and it was happening again.

I could feel my skin going red each second, my breath coming out haphazard. This was no exercise, I was just sitting there in front of him. Yet I felt like I just had a 100 yards marathon. I didn’t know why that was happening. 

My hand was still raised, gripping onto the pen. The black, thick ink almost reaching out to his canvas of a skin but I couldn't do it. Instead I kept on staring at him blankly, almost forgetting how to breath at this point.

He had really full lips unlike mine.

I retreated my pen back, and instead my bent more towards him. I could already feel his feverish skin, my own one burning against his.

But it only had happened for a second. I moved away as soon as I had realized, this was wrong.

I was just about to kiss him. And not on drunken intention this time.

I rushed away from his room like a thunderstorm, leaving the front door open, only to be bumped against a body right outside, and that someone was Yoongi.

"Hey!" He growled as my body hit his. I murmured a quick apology before running away.

I just hoped he didn't see my face, red like a ripe tomato.