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Namjoon crept out of the dimly lit room, leaving the door ajar and letting the hallway light sliver in. Yoongi was fast asleep under the quilt covers having cried himself to sleep in Namjoon's arms. The storm outside had come to a slow stop not too long ago and the rain was dribbling quietly against the window pane. Making sure Yoongi was still slumbering, Namjoon tiptoed away and downstairs to find his husband.
The kitchen was empty and tidy, Yoongi's oatmeal bowl clean and drying off on the dish rack. The highchair tray was wiped clean and neatly tucked under the breakfast bar beside the stools. Namjoon wandered into the next room, a modern sitting area he hadn't stepped in since they had arrived. It was large and fairly spacious, the rosewood parquet floor recently polished and cleaned, the smell of flowery chemicals still lingering. In the middle sat an L shaped velvet grey sofa with an Argyle patterned blanket draped over the side. Matching cushioned stools were perched close by a small rustic coffee table and a single bonsai tree placed precisely in the middle, the porcelain dish it sat in hand painted with messy zigzags and spots.
Opposite the sofa was a flat-screen TV hung up on the wall, beneath it a storage area made with the same rustic timber wood as the coffee table. Small potted plants were lined alone the top, different kinds. Aloe Vera, Cacti, Echeveria, and even Lithops that definitely looked like small colourful human brains sprouting from a child-painted plant pot, similar to the bonsai tree. The rest of them were hand-painted by someone who clearly had a steady hold on their paintbrush. The only light emitting from the room were the tiny circular lights sitting inside the matching atriums on each side of the TV. Namjoon didn't recognise the tropical plants inside the glass, but was impressed nevertheless. The rest of the room had more decor, pictures hung up of close friends and special occasions that had happened. A full wall was covered by closed grey curtains which he guessed led out into the conservatory.
Stepping away, Namjoon turned towards the exit with Seokjin's name on his lips, when a shadowy figure appeared from the darkness of the entry and Namjoon cursed, tripping backwards, only just catching himself on the tawny Chesterfield bench behind the sofa. The leather was cold on his fingertips.
Only when Jimin emerged from the blackness of the night did Namjoon exhale in relief, only just one moment away from shouting out.
"You scared me," he said, a little shamefully, hand still on his heart. He quickly straightened himself out as Jimin giggled shortly, switching the light on. It wasn't a bright white one, but a warm orange glow that lit up the room partially.
"Sorry," Jimin responded, running a hand through his hair. "How's Yoongi?"
"Asleep," Namjoon replied. "How about Jeongguk? I still feel really guilty."
"Don't be. He's enjoying all the pampering he's getting, and he'll be healed for December," Jimin laughed, and Namjoon laughed too, but a little less enthusiastic than Jimin. He licked his dry lips wet and ran a hand through his own hair which needed a haircut and redye. Perhaps a new colour, maybe this time he'd go for silver, but immediately he pictured Jin laughing and those constant jokes on how he looked like an old man. It made him smile sadly, knowing his lover hadn't laughed like that in too long.
