"Alright, class. Now that everybody has submitted their rocket designs, you will have a couple days to build them. Keep in mind that it takes a full day for superglue to dry, so get all the gluing work done today."
Yay! This unit is finally ending!
I volunteered to cut the cardboard shapes out, since I couldn't trust Namjoon with a pair of scissors for some odd reason. That, and he did most of the work by designing the rocket, anyway.
Once all the shapes were cut, I assembled them to try and match our museum-worthy rocket sketch before opening the superglue.
Feeling confident with how the rocket locked, I stood back and watched it stand proudly on it's three little fins.
"Namjoon, you're really smart," I tell him.
"You're also smart for figuring out how to get a material like cardboard as spherical as possible, Y/N."
Making decorations for the state fair, my hands were sore and crippled by the end of the day from cutting cardboard into various shapes and then painting them afterwards.
"Hey, can I ask you something?" I try and break the silence that was starting to brew.
"Sure," Namjoon purses his lips, allowing his dimples to show through.
"I know that our previous attempt at getting to know each other was really shitty and weird, so do you want to have another shot at it?"
He chuckles, and if his dimples weren't already deep enough, they had to cave in more and make me wonder how a man like him can have this effect on me.
By doing something as simple as smiling genuinely.
"Yeah, I'd like that."
»»-------------¤-------------««
Namjoon offered to take me to his house today, so I complied. I wasn't used to seeing this new side of him, but I liked it.
When I entered that room of his, him saying that he had an IQ of 148 was no joke. There were academic awards in the form of trophies and certificates that decorated the shelf, their gold and shiny surfaces capable of making you forget about the dirty laundry and slightly worn out books that were scattered everywhere else.
I thought about how much of a fuckboy I thought this man was; I was now beginning to doubt that.
"Y/N," he says, interrupting the silent atmosphere.
"Hmm?"
"I didn't read a book on airplanes that day."
"You mean the day we were figuring out our rocket design?"
He nodded. How is that even humanely possible?
"I know there are a lot of books scattered everywhere, but I'm being dead serious."
"I believe you, Namjoon, just how did you know this?"
"My father was an engineer, and he took me around in his workshop and taught me some stuff when I was young. I guess that's how I know so many things now."
Was. I didn't want to pressure him, so I just nodded and smiled, telling him how cool that must've been to see something miraculous being created by his dad's own hard work.
"Well, he died from lung cancer a while ago. He used to smoke a lot."
"Oh, Namjoon. I'm so sorry—"
"You didn't know. It's fine."
I noticed that his voice was becoming much more dull and monotone, almost like a robot that was trying to sound human. Since we've had enough physical contact already, I place my hand on his shoulder as a mean of comfort.
"Y/N,"
"Hmm?"
"Don't tell anyone what I just told you."
"I won't, Joonie," I say in a voice that is higher-pitched than usual. Bright voices seem to be the most cheery, and that's what I was going for. "Just try not to sound like a grumpy ajussi, please?"
I'm not the greatest comedian, but Namjoon giggled happily, eyes turning into half moons as his smile showed through his white teeth.
"Well, I don't sound like one now, do I?"
"No," I giggle back.
»»-------------¤-------------««
A/N: HAPPY NATIONAL JOON DAY!!! 😇🔨💕 Here's Namjoon looking spicy AF. Suffer with me; muahahahaha.
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