Zero: A BTS AU (On Hold)

Everytime we touch I get the feeling: 15

Namjoon just sat there staring. The ARMY he was with had moved on to his older brother, fawning over his face and presence. But he couldn't care less. All he cared about in this moment was you. Your entirety; your hair, your eyes, your smile, your name. Your beautiful name that fell like a snowflake down onto the ground as he began to wisper it.

His eyes closed slightly with content and delight, sight focused on you so much so that he saw nothing else.

You stood and moved closer to him. He breathed in a deep breath to ready himself. Instead all his thoughts derailed as he caught your sent. He gulped now, its fragrant flavour of caramel and chocolate calling him to get closer. So, as soon as you stopped moving closer to him, sitting down too far away for his liking, he leant forward. Nose twitching in delight as the happy smell flooded his senses and made him giddy.

He couldn't wait to be closer with you, both in character and phisical distance. He wanted to be right besides you, arms wrapped around you, and hands clasped in yours. Stories and tales of love exchanged between you two as you lost yourself in each other. His mind was so caught up in the traffic of these thoughts that the crash from earlier was not registered by centural control. So when you smiled up a shy but warm smile he wasn't ready. The trains were not only derailed but the conductors had been knocked out with no hope of a quick recovery.

He bleated out an unsensical mismatch of the English that he knew so well, "favorite member have you?" as the old coal and steam powdered locamotives were taken from storage and forced upon the tracks with only disheveled ticket collectors to operate them.

You laughed. And he melted, butter in the pan. Shaking your head you respond in full clear English, praying that he will understand even with his slight mix up, "no, I did when I started but not now. I love you all equally".

Six heads snapped in your direction, the seventh a wild mixture, cooking in that pan you controlled. He became light and airy, a soft center hidden by his warmed and crisp exterior as he tried his best to hold his composure. You said you loved them.

He failed. It was all to much and he broke apart as the pan flipped, sticking to the counter as he saw the cherry jam spread across your face. You had realised what you had said, eyes widening and head shooting down as you grasped the straps of your bags.

The people around you now begain to stare, your best friend included. All wondering why the group were fixcating on you, ignoring every single other person around.

You slipped the album over, not knowimg what else to do besides dash out of the place. Soon the boys caught themselves, removing their fastened stares and reganing composure from the shock they had recieved. All of them, that is, except for the one opposite you, a shocked mongoose commanding all the traffic, and as you can imagine, it was chaos.

He mindlessly swept over the album, signing it on god knows what page, right by who knows whose image. He didn't even remember picking up the pen. He was just caught up in you. In your immaculate being.

His mouth hung agape, words caught in his throat. After some time, he finally snapped it shut, the sound much louder then he had intended. You looked up in shock at the unknown sound, eyes unintentionally meeting the purple of the leader sat behind the table.

It was a much deeper, more emotive shade than the table cloth and you wondered if they had been that colour earlier. 'When did he have time for contacts,' you thought before a sudden sharp pain carved itself into the inner side of your left wrist. This pain was bad, really bad. Worse then most other pain you had felt that day, actually all other pain but that you felt after locking eyes with Yoongi. This pain and that one were teammates in the football match to bring you down.