"Even when a star dies, it gives birth to another one. It's mere existence is life and growth. One day I wish to be as infinite as the stars. To exist forever, if at least in their hearts."
When you left, you were not looking for a savior.
When he...
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He takes you to a studio.
Though the hallway is simple, another slather of pure white paint, stone, and plaster, the floor a gorgeous light charcoal tile. The door to the studio is beautiful hardwood, a large window of tinted glass embedded within so that you can see a bit inside.
You stare at it with awestruck eyes.
Namjoon doesn't notice your expression at first, turning the knob to the door, and entering.
As he does, you don't move. You don't know if you can.
The studio isn't much, it's very simple when you think about it.
It's spacious, with dark walls and an almost metallic look to it. There are two comfortable chairs located at the soundboard which has a black undertone to them. The table is dark hardwood, even the floor is plated with dark mosaic tile. The recording area on the other side of the massive one-way glass in front of the soundboard has the same black theme, the walls soundproofed with patches of black material.
Though it may seem simple to some, to you, it could not be more beautiful.
This room holds every dream you ever had, everything you had once wanted to be. On the other side of that glass, you would have sung and made the very same music that helped you feel loved and wanted.
As you stand there, awestruck, RM notices that you're not beside him. He pauses, turning around to you, his computer powering on. He looks at you, a bit confused.
"Yen?" at his voice, you break out of your trance and snap your eyes to him. He chuckles a bit before setting down his coffee. "Are you going to come in? It's rude to stand in open doorways."
Shaking yourself out of your reverie, you nod, hurrying in and closing the door shut behind you.
"Yes. I'm sorry I was just..." you trail off, searching for the words to explain, but coming up empty, you fall silent.
Namjoon gives you a look as you stop in the middle of the room, getting that dreamy, glazed-over look in your eyes once more. You seem as though you're afraid to touch anything. Maybe it will ruin the dream, somehow wake you up, when you don't want to be bothered.
"Are you okay?" he inquires, peering deeper into your eyes and tilting his head in a questioning gesture. Once more, the expression on your face disappears and you chuckle nervously.
"Yes, it's just, this doesn't quite feel real."
"What do you mean?"
"It's always been my dream to come to a place like this." You murmur, taking a steadying breath as you tentatively run your fingers over the top of the desk. The cool glossed-over granite sends a small shiver down your spine before you pull your hand back to your heart.
