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After a long and traumatizing night in the hospital, Namjoon has been cleared and we are now on our way back to his apartment to take a nap.

Don't judge me for taking a nap at Namjoon's place. His bed is way more comfortable. That's all.

"Some people would call us a couple, you know," Namjoon muses as he unlocks his door and gestures me to go inside.

"Why? Because we've been through so much shit?" I ask, deadpanning.

"Please leave and never come back," he says, facepalming.

"Enlighten me, dimples. Why would some people call us a couple?" I ask curiously, going to sit down on his couch but missing it entirely and falling to the floor with a thud. "Oops."

Namjoon rolls his eyes before helping me up. "We spend all of our time together and we've been on dates."

"Please tell me you didn't count being in the hospital a date because I'll gladly accept your invitation for me to leave if you did," I groan.

"The carnival and the game night before the hospital trip," he explains. "So two dates."

"Can you imagine leaning in to kiss me and then suddenly sneezing?" I ask, terrified.

He shudders.

"Let's find a way to get rid of our 'powers' and then we'll talk about whatever this is," I say, sighing loudly.

"Let's sleep. Do you want me to sleep on the couch?" He offers.

"Why would you? We've slept in the same bed before."

"Yeah, and you tried to kill me the next morning," he points out.

"Because you were naked and cuddling me!" I exclaim, pointing a finger at him.

"I had on boxers, you overdramatic brat!" He yells back. "I was cuddling you. I can't help that you're adorable and cuddly."

I blush and purse my lips. "Whatever. I'm guessing you're gonna want to sleep naked again?"

"I wear boxers to bed, like I've said a million times," he says in exasperation. "But I'll keep my clothes on if it makes you feel weird."

I pause, an inappropriate image of a wild Namjoon appearing in my mind, only wearing boxers.

"It's fine," I say, clearing my throat whilst mentally jumping into a pool of holy water. "But I don't want to sleep in these clothes. Do you have any pajamas I could change into?"

"Isla, we've established that I don't wear pajamas to bed. And anything I could give you would literally swallow you whole," he says, laughing. "My legs are like, double the length of yours."

"Just give me a t-shirt," I whine, determined to get out of these uncomfortable clothes.

"J-just a t-shirt?" Namjoon asks, blushing.

"Unless it makes you feel weird," I say, raising my eyebrows.

He shakes his head vigorously before quickly turning to run down the hallway, and once he's out of sight, I hear a loud thud and I assume he's run into the wall or something else of that nature.

After a few moments, Namjoon comes back in nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs. In his hands, he's holding a purple t-shirt out to me, but I'm too busy staring at his... uh, hand.

Not his stomach. Or his arms. Or his shoulders. Or his chest. Or his thighs.

Definitely not.

"You're welcome," I say, ripping my gaze away.

"What?" He asks, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

"Yes," I say.

"Are you going to take the shirt or...?" He asks, raising an eyebrow.

I hum to myself and nod, reaching out and grabbing the t-shirt before scurrying like a terrified squirrel to the bathroom to change.

Once the door is shut and locked, I strip myself of the jeans and blouse I was wearing and stare at myself in the mirror.

I look like a hot mess. No, not even hot. Just a mess. The "no sleep" look does not suit me. I look like that troll from the first Harry Potter movie. The one who gets a wand shoved up its nose.

After I've resolved my inner struggle of how I resemble a troll, I drag the overly large t-shirt over my head, smiling to myself at the familiar smell that I've grown to know and love.

I mean, like.

After pulling my hair up into a messy bun to get it out of my face, I push my dirty clothes into a pile in the corner of the bathroom and make my way to the bedroom, yawning loudly as I realize how exhausted I am from staying up all night.

I pause mid-yawn when I enter the room because Namjoon is staring at me, his mouth hanging open.

I frown at him before I realize what I'm doing.

My arms are stretched high into the air from when I was yawning, and the shirt has creeped its way up, unfortunately not as long as I anticipated it to be, and my panties are on full show to him.

I let my arms fall limply back to my sides as Namjoon blushes intensely, shutting his eyes closed tightly as I pull the t-shirt as far down as it will go.

"My bad," I whisper.

"Didn't know you were such a big fan of bunnies," he says to himself and I reach over to grab one of his pillows before launching it at his stupid head.

"Grow up, pervert," I snap and he laughs after easily catching the pillow before it hits him in the face.

"Says the woman who was blatantly staring at my muscles earlier," he teases and this time, I'm the one who blushes intensely.

"Just remember that I'm highly skilled with using a pillow as a weapon if you try any funny business," I warn him before climbing into his bed and sighing happily as I settle in underneath the blanket.

Namjoon rolls his eyes before climbing into the bed next to me, putting the pillow back in its rightful spot before laying down and turning off the lamp on his bedside table.

"Goodnight, Isla. Try not to cuddle me in your sleep," he says and I can hear the smirk in his voice.

I jerk the blanket off of him, rolling myself up like a caterpillar in a cocoon before smiling to myself.

"My armor is impenetrable, peasant," I say happily as my eyelids flutter closed.

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