Under a Shade of Blue | Namjin

6- Intimacy in Blue

"Joonie, I'm so sorry," were the only words to leave my mouth before his lips ravished mine.

He kissed me with the longing of a man who hasn't seen the love of his life in years and with the urgency of one who would never see them again. His hands roamed my body and kept it close to his as if he feared I would disappear from his grasp if he didn't hold on to me tightly enough.

"I've missed you so much," he said.

But I was too enraptured by the singing choir of his strawberry lips, wanting to suck on the fruity flavor until I got a sugar high.

Namjoon knew just how to take control over every sensation in my body, everything from the stripping of my clothes to the songs he had play in the background were perfectly executed to overstimulate all my senses.

The music filled me with throbbing pulsations all over that he lulled by brushing shy kisses over my skin, only to bite down on the pressure certain notes were pushing on my most sensitive spots before licking his way down the electrifying current that coursed through my abdomen.

His name had become the only word in my vocabulary, with it coming toasty caramelized marshmallows that melted on my tongue and dissolved down my throat.

Namjoon. Namjoon. Namjoon.

My mouth delighted at the taste of him, his moans smelling as sweet as the oak barrels I wanted to get drunk on and as ashy as the tobacco I wanted to intoxicate myself with.

In the end I bursted into a colorful explosion, fireworks of scintillating blue and violet tones arising in the dark room before fading out. I was breathless.

He held me in his arms as he dozed off, leaving me to admire the marvel that was his aura under the moonlight. In his peaceful slumber, with the soothing rise and fall of his naked chest, the celestial glow shining over his blue was angelic. Namjoon must be ethereal.

All of his features were placed on their rightful pedestal: his eyelashes of the finest delicacy, his cheeks of the smoothest silk, his lips of the softest moisture.

Of their own accord, my fingers carefully grazed the tenderness of his skin, once more aching to capture such exquisite details between the four walls of a white page.

Careful as to not wake him, I pulled out of his embrace; my hand immediately grabbing hold of a pencil and guiding it to the familiar flow of his figure until it stumbled where it always did.

"Had any luck?"

His voice didn't startle me, the scent of burning white oak wood exactly what I need in the cold February winter. I smiled at his droopy eyes as he lied in his dazed, half-awake state. I knew what he was asking me.

"Not really."

For the first time, disappointment wasn't present in my tone. For the first time, I didn't feel like a failure for not being able to find the right shade of blue. I put my pencil down and went to sit with him in bed.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"It's fine." I shrugged, leaning my hands towards his blue. "I have the real thing with me anyway."

"No, I meant," he sat up, "I'm sorry I wasn't supportive of you going to work for your father. If this is something that you wanna do then I should be there for you."

"No, you were right." I scooted closer to him. "There's no point in doing something that won't make me happy. And I may not know what I wanna do yet but I know what I don't wanna do and that's to type e-mails for my dad halfway across the globe."

He held my hand, hope evident in his eyes. "So you're staying?"

My smile could have been answer enough. "I'm staying."

He kissed me, and kissed me, and kissed me. Cheerful giggles and happy laughter the only things breaking us apart.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you and gave you so much crap about your dreams." I held his face between my hands. "I want you to know that I meant everything I said in that letter. The truth is I was just envious you had such a clear goal while I didn't."

I looked over at the unfinished drawing of him. "I realized I was so obsessed with finding the right shade of blue because it made me feel like I could be as passionate about my art as you are about your music. But it was silly."

My eyes found their way to his aura again. I could barely see him now with his back to the window, shadows dancing over his traits, but his halo so warmly embraced by the moonlight all around him shone so bright. Special, and rare, and unique, and just for me.

"I'll never find another blue."

"You'll never have to."