Sick

LUNCH

Seokjin's pov

It had taken me nearly 15 minutes to try and sort out Namjoon's suitcase. I just dont understand it. It closed when we flew here, why won't it do that now. We didn't even buy anything. Frustrated, I take everything out and try to sort it out for the seventh time.

I was slowly reaching my limit and was close to leaving it there for him to deal with.

Maybe fixing it on the bed was the issue. I thought. An idea had me swept. I pull the black heavy luggage off the bed and it lends on the floor with a thump making a ruckus.

"Hah" I let out a sigh. Little patches of sweat were slowly building on my forehead. Curse this damn suitcase. I stand myself up and stretch my bavk out.

"You're too much of a perfectionist you know that?" A familiar, but in this case annoying voice says from behind me somwhere.

"Yeah and your stupid suitcase is rigged. I packed this before we came here how is it not closing?" I look towards the door where my husband was standing and our son was sitting up on his shoulders. He had his hands in Namjoon's hair picking at the strands and messily making a mess out of it while singing some wierd nursery rhyme.

"Aren't you the one who said we shouldn't spoil him by carrying him around all the time?"
Namjoon gives me a lazy and dumb smile.

"I never said that!" He states while avoiding my eyes.

"Uh huh. You're sick. Whipped even." I say earning a chuckle.

"Let me do it." He offers while placing a pouty Jimin in the floor. He walks up to me and pulls on my jeans.

"Hmm?"

"I'm hungrwey." His modest little attitude was too cute for his own good. Nonetheless it still made me smile.

"My baby is always hungry." I say nuzzling his thick golden locks.

"How about we go out for lunch? The diner?" Namjoon suggests while childishly sitting on the suitcase in attempts to zip it. I'd bet everything that he's going to break that zipper.

I check the time and it's pretty early. 11:04! Our flight was 10:00 pm anyway. Plenty of time but should we? Myung sook is bound to have lunch ready soon.

"You're over thinking. Stop it. The flight is hours away." Namjoon says yet again reading my mind.

I give in finally earning an excited squeal from Jimin.

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"Alright. Lets go."

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Half an hour later we're sitting at the very same dinner we went to the other day. Jimin is devouring the kiddie sized pizza infront of him like a savage. Food is everywhere. His chin, checks and forehead are all covered with cheesy grease. I snap a quick picture.

I should be immune to this by now you would think but i wasn't, not when I look over to his father and it's the same picture. Namjoon is seriously an adult baby, although he doesn't have food all over his forehead there's still an abnormal amount on his chin and cheeks. I snap a picture of him as well. A sigh of frustration and lowkey satisfaction forcefully escapes me.

I swiftly reach over with a napkin much to both of their annoyed reactions and clean them both off.

After finishing, we pay and head to the park. Jimin wanted to play in the sand box. I reluctantly agree while Namjoon goes off to get ice cream.

Its was 1:36 pm now. The breeze was kicking in fast. Luckily I dressed Jimin in a thick yellow little jacket and some grey sweats. I watched from the bench close by as he spoke to himself making up some imaginary story about space adventures and landing on a deserted planet covered with sand. He zoomed his stuffed dog toy into the sand squealing, giggling and laughing as he did. Hahh my innocent little baba.