CHARADES (Namjin.)

CHAPTER FIFTY FOUR.

Seokjin.

I didn't want to panic and make rush decisions, or hurry and do something drastic, but something about Namjoon being out there by himself, with his thoughts, and the pain he is going through just didn't sit well with me. I couldn't fully concentrate on anything, knowing well he wasn't alright, fully alright at least, and missing at that.

Even after sending Taehyung away empty handed, my mind whirled with ideas, scenarios of what could have happened to him, and in the end I just couldn't sit and wait anymore.
I didn't know where I was heading to, or what I was actually going to say when - if I found him, but I needed to find him, just to see for myself that he was alright.

Driving through my former neighborhood felt...nostalgic. Development, clearly did the area some justice, and it can be regarded with confidence as a part of Seoul, but somehow my memories of the place are just intact. I remember every shop, every store, restaurant and building just like they were. All of it is associated with a memory, strangely, only the memories Namjoon is in. I think this is the reason I have dread so much, coming back to this place. I think it's the reason I left it to even begin with. It's everything Namjoon and I shared, every thought, every word. This place is just the two of us.

I didn't think I would necessarily find Namjoon here, but I couldn't think of any other place he would want to be. If he was thinking the way I felt he would be, then he would want to be somewhere serene. Somewhere beautiful, but not quiet, somewhere familiar, calming.

I remember this park vividly out of everything down here. Its mostly because most of it hasn't changed that much. The frog infested pond still sits at the far end, the canopy trees hanging by the fences, the grass still shoddily trimmed, and the benches barely replaced. This was ironically  Namjoon's favorite place to be. He loved it here, the cool and the calm, the background bustling, and the noises from the pets, he loved spending his time here, he'd come around to cool his head, to think about his music, or to plan about his future, and gradually, it had become my favorite spot too.

He'd string me along, and at times we'd just sit on the grass, kinda like a picnic, except we'd watch people pass by and try to guess their personalities, or what they did in life, or times we'd coo at their pets, or we would talk about our lives. At times we wouldn't even talk, we would just pick a bench after a long day, sit on it and just hold each other through the sunset. When darkness would fall, we would share a passionate kiss, or two, and often he would just look into my eyes, deeply, and without words I would know what he meant, the silent words he would speak to me, silent words about his love for me.

Like him, this park holds some of my most dearest memories of him, so I wasn't too surprised to see him back here, I knew a part of him would go seeking the past. Standing a few meters from him now, I am not so sure what I should do, or say for that matter. He at least looks safe and sound, physically that is, and it brings me a slight bit of relief, although I still know he is mentally wounded, emotionally scarred.

Although in a different outfit now, he is still in his hoody from three days ago, -its the reason I spotted him to begin with - now adorning a black mask, his obvious attempt to keep the prying eyes away. I am probably not the person he wants to see right now, especially after how it ended the other night, and the hatred he probably bares for me, but I think it would be better if someone checked on him, even if he wouldn't want me to. Taking a deep breath, and resisting the urge to talk myself out of this, I make my presence known, slowly stepping into his line of sight, blocking his view of the still pond behind me.

His gaze locks onto mine, notable surprise flashing through his orbs, shifting quickly to different emotions that I barely catch. I hadn't exactly rehearsed what I would say when I found him, knowing well he wouldn't want to see me, but looking at him right now, at his tired yet pained eyes,  rugged posture, and fidgety hands, I can't stop myself from wanting to hold him, just like I would back in the day when he would have a rough day, and vice versa.