Where We Begin & End II K.N.J II

Chapter 7 - The Pants

A/N: Maybe I got too deep into his headspace but the second-hand embarrassment had me cringing like a dozen times throughout this one. But I really enjoyed writing it and I hope you enjoy reading it just as much.

Love,

MsNoShelfControl.

------------Namjoon's POV-------------

I kept my head down as Jin-hyung dragged Hobi out of the room, leaving me alone with her in the dimly lit room. Once again, I was reminded of how lucky I was to have friends that trusted me despite the poor choices I keep making.

Feeling a pair of eyes burning right through me, I lifted my gaze slowly, taking in the sight of her still buried underneath the duvets on my bed, her small face framed by her dark hair fanned across the pillow, illuminated with the soft glow of the yellow lamplight on the nightstand beside her. She looked washed out; her dark eyes sunken in and her lips devoid of any color. A physical manifestation of what cold would be.

Swallowing nervously, I took a hesitant step forward and gestured towards the bed, "May I?"

She glanced down to where I was pointing before giving me a small nod, and I moved forward, taking the seat Seokjin had been occupying just moments before beside her. "You should eat, before the soup goes cold."

Rubbing my suddenly sweaty palms across my shorts-covered thighs, I watched silently as she struggled to sit up, her face twisted in a wince as she leaned her slight frame against the wooden headboard with the sheets bunched around her waist. I watched curiously as she closed her eyes and breathed deeply as if the movement had set off a wave of agony in her body.

Feeling an urge to make her feel better, I moved carefully to place the tray on her lap, not noticing her eyes open and lock on to me with a look of a dozen different emotions swirling in their dark depths.

"Jin-hyung makes a really mean chicken noodle soup, and his garlic bread is to die for. It works wonders when you're sick," I was rambling.

It's not like anyone had taught me what to say to a stranger you picked up from the edge of a cliff.

Hearing only silence on her end, I finally looked up to see her still staring at me. She looked... confused?

"I know your voice," Her own voice was soft and airy, reminding me of the subtle melody of leaves rustling in a gentle breeze, and this was the first time I was hearing it without a disruptive storm raging around us. "W-was that you?" She asked, pulling me out from my momentary contemplation.

Oh.

The sudden realization that she probably didn't recognize me came as a surprise. But of course, she wouldn't. Given how chaotic the night was, and how sick she must be feeling right now, it was only to be expected.

"Yes, that was me. My name is Namjoon. You don't have to tell me yours though," I spoke slowly but rushed out the last part, hands raised in a reassuring gesture. She looked deep in internal conflict as she asked the question that I was dreading.

"Why'd you do it? Why'd you bring me here?"

I sighed, bowing my head down to my hands that I was wringing in my lap, "I'm sorry."

I didn't see the small, sad smile that curved her lips before she lowered her head too, "No, you're not. I can tell you're not the kind of person who would be sorry for saving someone's life."