The message was brief.
Namjoon didn't know what to make out of it, a 'happy holidays' expressed from that girl he wasn't sure he liked or hated, his thumb rubbing at the screen in disbelief.
She was an odd one, unreadable yet so open about her emotions at times. It made him confused.
She was a bundle of "pain in the ass", however, when he least expected it, she was reliable and quick thinking.
Namjoon played with the tips of his bangs, contemplating the way he had thought of her up till then.
Rowdy? Definitely. Aggressive? Without a doubt.
Empathetic?
Undeniably.
"A girlfriend I'm guessing?" His mother interrupted, walking past him as he stood in the doorway to the dining room, her hands holding a large pot of food.
He looked like a looming tree, in contrast to the small woman next to him, her soft features and small wrinkles witnesses of the passage of time, time he had spent away from her.
"Ah, mother, no. As if. Just a....an acquaintance," he chuckled, his mother placing a large plate of food on the dining table while Namjoon put his phone in his hoodie pocket.
Walking over to her, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and hugged her.
He missed her, he missed his mother like no tomorrow.
The scent that wafted from her was gentle, comforting to the poor man who ached to keep her near, combining with the smell of food reminding him that yes, he was home.
They often say that a man's first love is always his mother, and for him, that was exactly it. She was his everything, his entire existence revolved around her.
Spending so long away from her, while many other adults did as normal functioning members of society, was something he just didn't want to do. He never knew when he'd see her again, and if he'd be spending holidays with her or with his fans. He didn't know if the next time he'd come to see her, she'd have a new set of wrinkles decorating her smile line, or if she'd be ill while he was absent.
She was proud of him, of the son she had created, proud of his accomplishments, of his skills, of how gentle he was with others and how hardworking he was, but she worried.
She worried he'd grow old alone.
She worried he'd become sick all alone on those stages, and even when he was surrounded by his bandmates, she knew he most likely spent hours by himself, thinking.
He was a very thoughtful man, but he also over thought everything, every detail taking him time to process, hence his stubborn way of spending time on his own, thinking.
He was the type to retreat into his own little world and ignore his welfare in exchange for keeping those around him healthy and happy.
Happy.
She'd often wonder if he was, yet never dared to ask.
"Mama, do you think our fans are crazy?" Namjoon asked out of the blue, his mother raising an eyebrow at him.
Was that what was troubling him?
YOU ARE READING
✔Mr. Snowman | BTS Namjoon
Fanfiction"They say that when the snow melts so do the memories that came with it. But how I wish what memories I made with you would never subside. My love is so innocent when I look at your white beard and sparkly eyes my little Santa Claus. They paint y...
