The Siren's Song

Chapter 77- waves from the past

(Y/N) POV:

When I accepted Jin's invitation for dinner I didn't imagine ending up staying so late. Didn't expect that their contagious enthusiasm would make it so much harder to detach myself from arms that tugged me close, that wrapped me up with their warmth. That their easy smiles and bubbling laughter and deep low voices would ensnare me in a web I had no intention of escaping.

And when I did mention that I should leave, that it was getting late and I was disturbing them I'd been on the receiving end of seven huffy, endearingly pouty glares- every single one of them trying to wheedle with their eyes and jutted out lips that made me fall silent, that made me stay a tad bit longer.

And it's in the middle of a game tournament- that I'd been explicably 'banned' from under Jungkook's huffy pleading silent eyes that I smile and wave off the invitations, finding myself tugged to the sight of Namjoon curled up on the couch reading an inviting warming image. He's tucked away on one of the couches away from all the din the boys are making as they yell and play and make jibes at each other

I pad close, slightly uncertain whether he'd mind company but he seems to sense my presence because his eyes stray from the pages to peer up at me, face softening as he gives a dimpled smile and moves the book aside. An invitation to approach and when I do, moving to sit beside him I'm pleasantly surprised when instead his hands go to my waist and still me from moving further and draw me back to sit on his lap, arms winding around my torso to secure me against him, sitting sideways as he peers up at me with a soft smile, the soft shadows and lights from the screen casting a glow on his face in the dimmed room.

"I have something to confess." He says wryly, voice slightly shy and eyes brimming with emotion and flickering with endearing bashfulness.

I lean in closer slightly, as if to block the sight of the others from his eyes, to reassure him that whatever he has to say is between the two of us.

"You can tell me." I say softly.

His eyes slowly trail over me, eyes searching and yet gentle- something deep and knowing in the soft brown of them.

"I've wanted to read with you on my lap for a long time." he murmurs, lips quirking when his sweet confession has my eyes slightly widening with surprise and lips unconsciously stretching into a smile.

I shift to a get a bit more secure on his lap, bringing myself to nestle close to him before picking up the book he'd been reading to hand it to him.

"Then do it." I say, not expecting the soft kiss he presses to my cheek in thanks before drawing his arms around me, an arm snaking around my back- between the couch and me, and the other over my stomach, tightly anchoring me to him as he opens the book, as he finds his line.

But before he reads his eyes dart up towards me.

"Want to read? It's a historical fiction." He says and at my eager nod, begins to narrate what the past few pages have been about.

"Want me to read or you want to read yourself?" he asks.

And though I don't tend to like having stories read to me, there's a certain charm and power in certain people's voices that you could go on forever just listening to them, that they could be saying the most boring things but because of their voice you find yourself lost and entrapped. And because Namjoon's voice is liquid warmth, rich tones of the sweet depth in his words. Because I'd be mental to pass the chance up to hear any single one of them to keep talking, because it was the way that they'd effortlessly communicated with me when I wouldn't speak, when I couldn't that has me nodding eagerly. Because their voices have always been a source of such deep comfort, always brushing against my sore wounded soul and trying to heal, balms that helped soothe and calm.