Midnight Kiss | KNJ

Chapter 8.

Sophie

"Hey," I called Jin as soon as I hit the road. Since his house was only a few minutes away, I didn't mind dropping the book off, despite how badly my hands were freezing because of the ice-cold steering wheel. 

A loud, cheerful voice shouted into my ear, "Are you here already?" 

"Not yet," I kept my eyes on the road, although there was no traffic, one could never be too careful in snowy conditions.

"When you do, just come in, because I'm in the middle of kneading bread, and my hands are all dirty." 

"Okay," I said, not sure if Jin had even heard me because the line disconnected.

---

The porch steps to the house were slippery as ice. I had to brace myself on the railing or else I would have definitely fallen.

I tried the doorknob and it turned, so I let myself in like Jin had told me to. There was loud music coming from the kitchen, so Jin wouldn't have been able to hear the doorbell anyway.

The bag with the cookbook was swaying with my step before it came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the hallway.

In front of me was Namjoon, with a bowl of popcorn in his hands. My eyes immediately went to the grey sweatpants he was wearing, and then to the tight white long-sleeved shirt and settled on his hair, still damp from the shower.

The bowl flew from grip but he caught it just before the popcorn could spill on the floor.

I'd thought they had practice. I did not need this right now and the irony of us meeting in the hallway was not lost on me.

Namjoon looked like he'd seen a ghost and just stared at me, his lips slightly parted. The lips I'd kissed.

After the shock of actually seeing him passed, I straightened and met his gaze for just long enough to get his attention and then looked to my left, at the door that led into the living room.

"I'm just here to drop off a book, so I'll get out of your face in a minute." I said trying to hide my annoyance with indifference. Because I was annoyed. So much so that I was gripping the bag handle so hard it tore. I was annoyed with myself. I'd become every other girl after a few sweet words from a random guy. I'd always prided myself on being smart at parties and now that was gone.

I didn't turn around to see Namjoon's expression, I only heard a quick "Wait! Soph-" - and was it a bit of desperation in his voice? - before the door shut behind me and I found my way to the kitchen.

---

Namjoon

Shit! 

I had planned what I would say to Sophie when I'd see her again, how I'd apologise, but actually seeing her here, in my house, rendered me speechless.

And seeing her, the way she looked away from me, made me realise just how horribly I'd acted. But I couldn't even get the words out to tell her that. 

I couldn't let her think that New Years was a mistake a second longer. Thinking back, I couldn't remember why I'd even thought about it when we'd last talked.

So, she was here to drop something off. I could just rush to my room and dry my hair and then wait for her in the living room. I desperately needed to fix this.

I ran to my room and nervously counted the seconds that passed and hurried back to the living room. I sat on the sofa and picked up a book, although I didn't register a word I'd read.

A few minutes later Jin opened the kitchen door, his pink apron full of flour and his hair messy.

"I'm finally done," Jin sighed and wiped the back of his hand across his forehead, leaving a streak of flour.

"Is Sophie still here?" I asked, my heart suddenly beating fast.

"No, she had to hurry to a lesson," Jin shrugged and ran back into the kitchen when a loud alarm went off.

How? How had I not ran into her again? What now?

---

Sophie

I'd practically run out of the kitchen after giving Jin the cook book, saying I had a lesson. I didn't, but I'd decided to let this moment of cowardice slip. I could feel Namjoon had wanted to talk, but I had ran from that confrontation. 

Yes, it was a moment of weakness, but I had not at all been prepared to see him today.

Once I was safely back in my warm apartment, I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding in.

I shrugged off my puffed coat and got changed. I happily took my jeans off and put on grey sweatpants that were probably the most comfortable item of clothing I owned. I switched my beige turtleneck for an oversized grey knitted sweater. My hair was already in a bun so I just hurried to the kitchen.

I crossed my tiny living room - if a small sofa and coffee table could even be called that - and heated some water in the kitchen. I needed something warm to drink, I just hadn't yet decided if I wanted coffee or tea.

I was about to put a mint teabag into my cup of steaming water when I heard a knock on my door. Didn't Nina say she was going to Matt's?

Leaving the tea to soak, I went to answer the door wondering if Jin might be stopping by.

I unlocked my door and opened it, only to be frozen in place for the second time today.

"Hey," he said and I could feel his deep voice in my core.

I swallowed and my grip on the handle hardened. What on earth is he doing here? How the hell did he even know where I live?

I took a deep breath and opened the door for just a sliver more, "What are you doing here, Namjoon?" 

Now I could see him fully, he was dressed the same as the last time I saw him, but his hair was fully dry right now and falling on his forehead. He wasn't dressed up in any way, but how did he look even better now than he had on New Years. And why could I feel heat rushing to my cheeks again.

"I need to talk to you," he said, his eyes not leaving mine.

"How do you even know where I live?" I still didn't open the door fully.

"You told me?" Confusion flashed in his eyes for a second while I stared at him with narrowed eyes.

Then the corners of his lips twitched and he said, "You don't remember, do you?"

I tore my gaze from his. I hadn't told him where I lived. Why would I have told him that in the first place?

"You told me you lived across the street from a wonderful bakery called Roz's Bakery, and I happened to know where it is. And they you went on explaining how your apartment number is eight, and how fitting that was since your favourite number is eight." Namjoon was trying very hard to stop himself from smiling while I contemplated whether I had ever even told him that.

But it was true that I loved the bakery across the street and that my favourite number is eight. Even if he'd asked Jin, he couldn't possibly have know my favourite number. Had I really been that drunk on New Years?

When I bitterly said, "Fine," Namjoon bit his lip, and not in a trying-to-look-hot kind of way, but like he wanted to say something, but was scared to.

So, after a long moment of silence he said, "Can I come in?"

Somehow I could instantly see the sincerity shining in his dark eyes, and as much as I didn't want to, I could at least hear him out if he'd come all the way here.