north star (knj)

chapter two

"Did I say something wrong? Did you hear what I was thinking?
Did I talk way too long when I told you all my feelings that night?"

Good Things Fall Apart - ILLENIUM, Jon Bellion

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No, no. Please tell me this isn't happening. I can't be locked in a closet with Kim Namjoon.

I desperately twisted the door handle, pulling until my wrists ached. Giving up, I balled my fists and kicked the door. Unfortunately, it remained locked.

And now my toe throbbed.

Door: 1, Lyra: 0.

Behind me, Namjoon huffed. "Have you tried saying 'open sesame' yet?"

"Do you have your phone on you?" I asked, clutching my foot. "Mine is with my brother."

Namjoon slid his phone out of his pocket and pressed the on button. The screen remained black. "It died an hour ago," he said, putting it back in his pocket.

I pressed my forehead against the door. "Wonderful."

"We'll have to wait until someone finds us."

I sat on the floor and pulled my knees up while Namjoon crossed his legs over one another across from me. Without warning, a memory of a similar situation flashed through my mind.

Namjoon sat cross-legged on my couch. "Where do you have time to read all of these books between writing songs and doing appearances?" He looked towards the floor-to-ceiling bookcase that dominated an entire wall of the living room.

I shrugged, settling down next to him. Our knees skimmed. "I find the time."

"You like mysteries?"

It was the understatement of the year. About sixty percent of my bookshelf was dedicated to mystery novels, with the other forty percent split between cookbooks, romance stories, and poetry collections.

"What's life without a little mystery?" I leaned my head towards him. "It makes things exciting."

Namjoon continued to look around the room, which usually would make me uncomfortable. But I wanted him to see my home and ask the questions others wouldn't dare to. I knew he wasn't afraid to.

And for once, I wasn't afraid to answer.

"Who's the artist?" He motioned towards a few paintings hanging above the fireplace mantel and TV.

I was surprised he figured out only one person had painted them – Leo was erratic with his themes and art styles.

"My brother, Leo. He's amazing."

"So much color." Namjoon smiled as he turned back to me. He had dimples. "I love it."

I shook my head, rubbing it against the closet door behind me. It was bad enough Namjoon had been in my home - he didn't need to be in my mind so much now.

In front of me, Namjoon sighed. "It started in a closet like this, right?" He smiled, displaying his frustratingly cute dimples.

Yes, it had started in a supply closet like this, where we had broken the barrier between friends and 'something more'. And then continued to do so in the limo to my apartment. Then on my private rooftop patio. In my bed. On the kitchen counter the next morning. Too many places, too many memories.

"I don't think about it much." I pursed my lips. "Or at all, really. But you do."

A corner of Namjoon's lips quirked. "How can I not?"