"Namjoon", Hoseok spoke into the bluetooth. "You laugh one more time, I dare you"
I cleared my throat loud enough for the whole floor to turn heads. "Sorry", I croaked to the lady two seats away though I said it for Hoseok.
"You need to shut up", hi...
DO NOT READ A WORD OF THIS CHAPTER IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THE LATEST ONE YET
...and if you have, sorry for the outburst but I needed to make sure.
Excuse my dramatic ass.
*flips hair*
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*drools*
RM's POV
She was sitting on sofa. Demure. Collected. Her hands were placed on her lap and her head was hung so low I couldn't see her face. But I could see the rest of her. The rest, near naked, her.
Fishnet stockings.
A skirt so short I hoped she was wearing one.
A leather jack- my jacket. My Jacket. Zipped so low I begged the gods she was wearing second skin under that.
Her hair was styled in big, beautiful curls. She looked up, putting her face in the light. Our eyes met, and she smiled sweetly. Winged liner and smoky eyeshadow. Crimson lips. I would've gawked, drooled and made a fool of myself if her eyes weren't so....
...cried out.
"....Nara", I breathed.
Her smile widened and my panic zinged beyond human capacity.
"You took forever to come", her voice was low, sexy. She stood up and I tried to look away. Tried, but I couldn't. Her eyes...
She crossed the distance slowly. Predatory. Calm. Much too calm.
She pressed herself to me and the smell of pink roses played with my senses. She put a hand on my chest and smiled. She trailed it up and placed it on the back of my neck, but her eyes.
"I've missed you", she whispered and pulled me down, pressing her lips to mine. Hard. Fast.
Desperate.
I searched through my brain to the events of that day. What had Leeteuk said and what had been her reaction. The night that she sleepwalked into my studio. The lyrics of the title song. I put my hands on her shoulders.
'The thera-...the doctor recommended yoga to get my mind in focus and that's how I got back to ballet'
That's what the mv was about. She stopped when I didn't kiss her back. She hung her head, breathing hard. Bang pd's words came back to me like a prophecy. '...it won't take more than one blow to break her. Do you understand me?'
I applied a little pressure so she would look up. Her hand slipped and dropped to her side. Was it just me or was her skin a tad too warm?
"..look at me", I softly said. And for the first time, she didn't listen. I removed my hands from her shoulders and cupped her face, lifting it. Warm. "Look at me, Nabi"
She chewed on her bottom lip and took forever to open her eyes. The makeup was sensual, but her eyes were red. Streaks of red splintered across a rosy haze. There was no white remaining in her eyes.
Not an ounce of fight.
No walls.
Something in my chest squeezed. A hand around my heart. Suffocating it.
I barely found my voice.
"..are you okay?"
Her eyes turned glassy and began to spill. "....why?", she rasped, pain so loud I couldn't breathe.
"I'm sorry", I apologized, not knowing what else to do. "But this isn't what you want"
"I..", she swallowed thickly. "I do"
I took a breath, "fine". My ribs were closing in. "Anything you ask of me. Whatever you want"
She closed her eyes, even as the tears continued to spill. I wiped them away with my thumb and pressed my lips softly to the center of her forehead. When I withdrew she was looking at me with all the pain in the world.
"Ask"
Her lips parted but no sound came out. I caressed her cheek, encouraging her to go on. When she spoke, her voice was a weak whisper. "..make it go away" Like wind through trees, shaking like the leaves that rustle. She lifted her hands from her sides, palms facing upward. I now saw there was a reason she had removed them in the first place: she didn't want me to know how badly they were trembling. I held both her hands, careful yet firm. They shook violently, the trembles passing on to my limbs.
She held on so tight blood couldn't reach my palms.
Tighter, until it hurt.
"...please"
The rest of this chapter has been censored because it may contain explicit content such as psychological trauma, reference to violence, self harm, homicidal tendencies, abstinence, cheese, and fluff so soft the clouds would cry.
