Under a Shade of Blue | Namjin

2- Words and Rhythm in Blue

The following days were spent repeating his name out loud nonstop.

Namjoon. Namjoon. Namjoon.

Overwhelming my tongue with the gluey and rubbery sweetened foam until the icing sugar made my teeth rot.

Namjoon. Namjoon. Namjoon.

Fall had become my favorite season. Drinking hot cocoa- a low and steady jazz bass playing in my head- only to indulge in the frothy quality of warm melted marshmallows as I thought of his name.

Namjoon. Namjoon. Namjoon.

I saw him often around campus; my anxiety dropping the ink bottled in his aura each time, causing the blue to pool out onto everything in his proximity. A monochrome background the accident's result.

My nerves never failed to shock my feet into action, running away in a cold sweat as soon as his head spun in my direction. I hid behind walls, and lockers, and doors in attempts to avoid him but the excessive thumping of my heart made it clear that wallowing in my unspoken feelings was worse.

So I wrote him an anonymous letter.

A delightful recipe worthy of his name, the sweetest tasting words its ingredients.

"Dreams" for the sprinkled sugar making my nights sweet;

"Fire" for the melted chocolate warming up my body;

"Sunrise" for the soft honey worth waking up for;

"Touch" for the tasty cinnamon I've been craving;

"Fly" for the light whipped cream carrying me through the sky;

"Stars" for the seeded strawberries making up constellations.

The sentences were mixed with all the other words that would whisk the written dessert together: believe, heart, mind, sunset, real- butter, baking powder, flour, eggs, milk.

Topping it all off with my final statement: "All in all, I like you, Kim Namjoon. And I can't go a day longer without telling you. Sincerely, -J."

The next day, I sprinted out of the university immediately after shoving the letter in his locker, deep and ragged breaths of relief spreading into my lungs.

"Seokjin!"

Burning white oak wood.

"Namjoon!" I turned around. "Hey!"

Blue ink spreading everywhere.

"Hey, I'm glad I found you." He jogged up to me. "If I didn't know any better I'd say you were avoiding me."

"What?" I scoffed, my voice way too high pitched. "Me? No. Never."

"Good, 'cause I'll be playing a few of my songs at the university coffee shop this Friday night and I'd like for you to come and listen."

I blinked far more than necessary. Everything was getting bluer.

"Yeah! Yeah, um..." I cleared my throat. "Yeah, I'll be there."

"Cool, I'll see you then." He backed away. "Don't forget your glasses this time so you can actually get there."

I laughed awkwardly, pointing finger guns at him. "I won't."

I let out the puff of air I didn't know was clogging my throat when he disappeared from view, my fingers ironing out the wrinkles in my forehead, grateful the letter hadn't come up.

"Finger guns, really?" I said to myself.

Friday night came along in the blink of an eye, time having not given me enough of itself so that I could rethink my decision.

The overpowering smell of eager chatter filled my nose when I opened the door to the coffee shop. With every group of people I walked past, the odor of their loud voices mingled with the fragrance of the baked goods creating unpleasant aromas that made me dizzy.

Luckily, there wasn't anyone in line at the counter so I quickly ordered a hot cocoa and slumped on the first chair in front of the stage I could find to rest my spinning head on the table.

Soon enough, the shrill ring of the microphone ran across the room inciting silence. Though the piercing tone pinched my underarms, I much appreciated the quiet it resulted in after the unanimous complaints, as well as the smell that graced my nostrils.

"Good evening, everyone. My name's Kim Namjoon. I'm a sophomore. And I'm going to be playing a few original songs for you guys tonight. Hope you enjoy."

As we all clapped, and who I'm going to assume were his friends cheered obnoxiously loud, he found me in the crowd and offered me a dazzling smile worth capturing in the largest canvas. My ears must have been red.

He looked so beautiful up there sitting on the stool with his guitar, the ink spreading to swallow everything around him whole as if on cue but for once I didn't mind him being the only thing in my line of vision.

As soon as he strummed the first few chords on his guitar I felt warmth take over my entire body, wrapping around me like a thick, soft shawl. I closed my eyes instinctively, the snug heat welcome in the chilly weather.

The song elicited natural reactions in me, going back and forth between two notes that made my heart jump and my finger twitch. He kept playing that second note again and again, and each time my finger bounced along.

He hit the same tones throughout most of the song up until the very last hook where it sent a shivering tingle to course through my bicep.

But that was just the beginning; his next songs gave me the luxury of a full body experience.

It started with a slow, expansive feeling oozing out in my head. The lush and low tones causing a hot sensation to boil up in my forearms and melt all the way down to my then fuzzy fingers and feet. A soothing tenderness fell from my upper back and flowed through my spine to land into my legs. The last song a fresh breeze fully cooling every inch of my body.

When I opened my eyes, his blue aura shone around him like a glorious ring of light no longer consuming his surroundings.

No one else's aura in the room shined like his. No one else's blue even remotely resembled his.

There was no way I couldn't be around him anymore.