Stolen (Kim Namjoon/RM X Reader)

Fault

After dinner, I sat in my room on the bed, brushing through my wet hair after getting out of the shower, not really focused on what I was doing.

I still felt sick at the thought of Joon and Lee Mae, of all people, reconnecting.

But honestly, it was my own fault. I had no one else to blame. I hadn't told Joon how I felt and now it was probably too late.

A soft knock at my door drew my attention across the room, and Joon stuck his head in through the crack, his face slightly worried as he said softly, "Hey. Are you okay?"

I set down the brush with a sigh and settled back on the bed, pulling my knees up to my chest as he entered the room and came to sit on the bed beside me, the mattress dipping under his weight. He watched me, silently for a few moments, worry lines gathering between his eyes, and then asked, "(F/N). Are you okay? You were really quiet during dinner. Eomma was worried about you."

I knew I should try to ease his mind, to offer him a smile and lie through my teeth, that everything was fine, but I just didn't have the energy. I shrugged half-heartedly and then said, without meeting his gaze, "Yeah, I'm fine. I just have a headache. Probably from all the sun today."

I fiddled with the strings on my hoodie uncomfortably as the silence grew between us again. Damn it, this sucked. I couldn't tell him why I was actually upset, because technically he'd done nothing wrong. And I definitely couldn't tell him about my feelings now.

We were at an impasse.

And the more we sat in awkward silence, the more my stomach churned, and the more bitter tears grew in the back of my throat, and I grew angry. Angry at Joon and at myself for ruining a perfectly good friendship.

"Jagi....." Joon murmured, reaching out a hand to lay on my arm, breaking our lack of contact. "If you'd just tell me...."

"I don't want to talk about it." I shook my head forcefully, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill from my eyes-angry, hot tears of regret and loss.

I felt heat coming to my cheeks, I felt flushed and hot and confused. I didn't want to do this anymore.

So when Joon, who was still watching me intently, even though I hadn't met his gaze the whole time, uttered my name softly under his breath, I snapped. I couldn't hold it in any longer. I needed him to leave.

"Namjoon! I said I Don't. Want. To. Talk. About. It!" I yelled out, surprising us both with the volume and tone of my voice as I yanked my arm out from underneath his grasp and curled away from him.

Instantly, I was sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at him. I finally looked over at him, and the hurt in his eyes stabbed through my heart like a knife. He stood from the bed, his expression crestfallen, and then said quietly, his voice strained, "Okay. I'll go."

"Joonie." I spoke his name, my tone apologetic, holding a hand out after him, wanting to apologize, but he didn't turn to look at me again.

He left the room, leaving me alone on the bed, in the silence, to face what I had just done to my very best friend. And my heart ached.

*****

The next morning, I straightened the bedding and pillows one more time, before I grabbed my bag, slinging it over my shoulder as I took one last look around the familair room. It had been nice to feel at home for a couple of days.

Letting out a sigh, I turned off the light and left the bedroom, closing the door softly behind me as I walked silently down the hallway and into the living room. The normally warmly lit room was cool shades of blue in the early morning light, and shadows were long across the floor, making the room darker than before, as the sun had yet to come up for the day.