It Takes Two (Kim Namjoon)

Clarified

short, sad, and to the point. my faves.

***

The next two weeks passed by quickly enough, though torturous at points. I missed Namjoon's birthday, although I got to spend my mother's with her (they shared the day, which Namjoon found endearing and my mother found ominous—something about picking one or the other). I caught up with old high school friends who had never left our town, visited all of my family that lived nearby, ate at all of my favorite places, and even gained a few pounds. By the end of my vacation time, I was impatient and nervous. I was given more than enough time to come up with a plan to deal with all of the problems at hand, and I still had no clue. Desperate, I had even called an ex who worked in public relations, but the only way that call had ended was with an invitation to dinner that I cheerfully turned down.

So by the time I walked into the reception area in Seoul airport, I was understandably on edge, a soldier waiting for an order that I wasn't going to receive without some sort of inspiration. And I was surprised, then, when my hungry gaze didn't find anyone familiar waiting for me. Naturally, I didn't expect Namjoon or the boys to come pick me up, but I expected someone.

I was grabbing my luggage off a carousel when I finally heard a voice say from behind me, "You're Vivienne, yes?"

I whipped around at the sound of the voice, a sense of dread settling in a hole in my stomach. She was a little taller than me, slim, with short, tidy black hair and an impeccably pressed dress. I, on the other hand, wore ripped jeans and Namjoon's large shirt underneath a sweater, with a messy ponytail and zero makeup. I wanted to curse Namjoon right now, but I was too stunned at the sight of the woman in front of me to do more than feel a rush of love. "Y-yes," I finally managed. "You must be...his mother." I murmured the few respectful greetings I could remember with my state of mind.

She gave me a small, genuine smile. "Yes, my son asked me to pick up his girlfriend." She twisted the word in her mouth as if it tasted new to her, which I guess made perfect sense. "Do you need help with your bags?"

I only permitted her to carry the lightest one, and I watched her appraisal of me out of the corner of my eye as we walked to her parking place. "Thank you for picking me up," I said again for what must have been the tenth time. I hadn't managed to strike an appropriate vein of conversation that lasted more than a minute so far, and I was starting to sound awkward to my own ears.

"It's no problem. I wanted to meet this person who Namjoon talks about so highly."

I hid a gulp while I slid my bags into the back of her car. "Ah, well, he can be too nice. I doubt I'm half the person he claims I am."

She hummed to herself, and suddenly I wondered if this was payback for throwing Namjoon to my mom so callously. "You know what it means to meet someone's parents, yes? I would go so far as to say that we're not a very traditional family, but even you must realize the gravity of meeting a mother."

"I-I wouldn't want t-to presume anything," I began nervously, "but generally, yes, I know how important it is."

This seemed to placate her, and her guarded face fell into another one of her small, approbatory smiles. "Well, Joon could hardly bring you home for family dinner, could he? I prefer it this way. Less pressure, and more time for me to scare you all by myself," she joked lightly.

As she started to drive, settling into an easy pattern in the throng of cars, my stomach settled a little. I couldn't help but relax around her as I watched the features that were already so familiar to me. Not only that, but mother and son seemed to have the same mannerisms. Namjoon's mother would choose something rather inconsequential to grumble about while driving, muttering to herself and to other drivers as if she were setting herself up for a confrontation. The similarity between her and Namjoon almost made me laugh."So, have you heard from him lately?"