Boy With Luv (Kim Namjoon X Readers)

Chapter 8

Your eyelids slowly opened, the light to the room was off. But you weren't completely in the dark, there was a small light wall plug that was shaped like a tree. It wasn't yours, and neither was the jacket that was draped on your body. It smells familiar, a wood kind of smell. The clock read late afternoon, people must have been gone by now. The room was still spinning a little bit when you tried to stand up. It probably wouldn't be wise to go to rehearsal tonight.

With a sigh, you tried to remember what had happened. The memory of working on the song was clear, but at some point, your eyes closed. But you remember vividly that you were on the chair and not on the couch. Maybe someone came in and carried you, but who would it be. Your eyes scanned the room and it pinpoints the sticky note on the monitor.

Come to my studio when you wake up.

-Rapmon

Your cheeks flushed and you shook your head. No, it couldn't have been him, he wouldn't have been this nice. He would have scolded you for slacking off on the job. Come to think of it, the jacket had his scent, something you don't think you could ever forget. He became someone you look up to. You were hurt by the accusations, but you valued more his passion for the music he's making. That's all you feel towards him, respect.

His light was still on while everyone else had already left. The knock was quiet, nonetheless, he opened the door right away. In his eyes, you saw sparkles, something you never quite noticed before. His blonde hair was messy, it seemed like he got an undercut. "I'm glad you're awake." he said in a tone that he never used with you. "Come in." He opened the door wider and your mouth formed into an O as you saw his studio. Aside from his impressive music equipment, he also had shelves of action figures. It was like a kid's room. The space was quite clean and cozy as well. He gestured for you to sit on the couch.

"Here's your jacket," you said, intending to hand it back to him.

"Why don't you wear it, it's a bit chilly in here and you have a cold." he said.

"Oh, thank you." You didn't know what to do, wearing it seemed too personal. So you draped in around your shoulder. It was warm. This is the sensation you imagined how it'd be to hug someone you love. It made you smile. "Thank you for, um, taking care of me." you said awkwardly.

"Don't mention it. It would be a hassle for you to get sick, I wouldn't want the boys to catch anything." he said. His back faced you, his tall figure covering the entire computer monitor. You couldn't quite see what he was working on.

"Oh, right. Sorry. I'll be better next time." you said quietly. You expected this response from him. It's all about business and music. Namjoon bit his lips, he knew he said the wrong thing.

He turned around to see you playing with your fingers. He saw the countless cuts on them from you playing your cello. "I heard the song, by the way. Sorry, I did it without your permission but it sounded really nice."

"I-I see. I'm glad you liked it." You couldn't help but feel proud. It was the same feeling of showing your parents something new you learned and seeing the smile on their faces. But over time you realized it was just a mask they put on to fool you to continue down that path. They only ever used compliments as a means to get something more. With Namjoon, it somehow felt genuine.

"Where did you get the strings from?" he asked.

"From my orchestra." you answered confidently, but it was in a manner that seemed like you were the boss. Namjoon raised his eyebrow.

"Your orchestra?" he repeated. "Like you own them?"

"I-I mean the local orchestra that I'm a part of near my house."

He nodded his head slowly. That was close, you thought. Namjoon, having an IQ of 148, could tell that something was off. But he didn't press any further. "I see. Tell them they did a good job." he added.

"Thank you, I will. They'll be happy to hear the great Rapmon had praised them." you chuckled.

"It's a ridiculous name, isn't it?" he asked to no one in particular. He sighed and looked at the ceiling, leaning back in his chair.

"Do you think so?"

"It was Rapmonster when I first debuted. It sounded too aggressive so I shortened it. Somehow I seemed to have lost myself along with my real name. Sometimes I don't know who I am anymore."

"That's part of the process, isn't it? Losing yourself. Nicknames are simply extensions of you, there's some truth in it."

"So I'm a monster?" he scoffed. But then he laughed quietly and looked at the ground.

"To yourself perhaps," you shrugged. "I think to everyone else, you're Namjoon. Real you." His gaze fell down on you. Real me, he thought, how interesting.

"Oh, by the way, I wanted to apologize for the other day, when I said those awful things to you."

"It's okay. I'm also sorry for yelling back."

"As an apology, I have an extra ticket to Sugarplum's show this weekend, would you like to join me?"

You internally scream, your thoughts blanked as you continued to look at him. "Oh, I'm actually busy this weekend, with....stuff." you said, looking anywhere else but at him. His shoulders dropped and he began to get annoyed. All he wanted to do was make up for his mistake. And a small part of him wanted to see you more, but he would never admit it.

"Stuff, right. Fine then. Have fun at whatever it is." and then he turned back to working. It was a clear sign that he didn't want you around anymore. If it was anything else, you would have loved to go with him. For some reason, seeing him disappointed felt terrible. He's the type of person that deserves all the happiness in the world. Too bad you never got to ask what he was working on. Too bad Namjoon didn't get to say thank you for talking with him.