Still With You | BTS (Bangtan Sonyeondan) : A Sequel to 'Euphoria'

"You'll Always Be My Favorite Form Of Loving..."

I let my eyes fall and sleep take over my exhausted heart.

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"But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine..."

I read though the poem from the book sitting on the bed next to me; the book he gifted me just before walking into the room. He handed it to me and with the most endearing whine, asked me to read to him.

So I did. Namjoon's head on my lap; my fingers lacing through his hair as he closes his eyes and smiles up at me. It's like a routine for us. Whenever we feel wrecked by life, overwhelmed and unable to process the impervious volume of heartache, he finds contentment in laying against me while I read out loud to him, preferably one of the many books of poetry that he has filled our library with. Books filled with words of love and beauty that we can get lost in while the world around us implodes.

"Beautiful," I let out as I look at him.

"Pablo Neruda's tone is so colorful and pure," he sighs, turning to his side, and wrapping his arms around my middle, his nose digging into my belly.

"I wasn't talking about the poem," I tell him, tugging on his hair so that he looks at me. He pulls himself off and brings his face to mine, his nose nudging against my own.

"You," I say to him. "You are so beautiful," I kiss him softly as he blushes. He smiles and the dimples in his cheeks make my heart skip a beat. "Your mind," I tell him as I place a kiss on his forehead, "Your body", I continue as I move down to kiss his neck. "And your soul," I say as I place the last kiss on his chest. "Every single part of you is beautiful," I remind him.

"I never used to believe it," he says as he pushes my hair behind my ear. "Fans would tell me, my Eomma, my friends, but I never let myself believe they could be right," he continues. "Until you..." he sighs. His head tilts to the side, taking me in, smiling that smile that makes my knees weak. "It wasn't until you told me. Until you loved me, that I believed that I was the man that you said I was; the man you see. Loving you allowed me to see the man that I am, the man that I've always wanted to be. I love you because I love me," he says and I feel my heart racing in my chest.

"I don't know if I'd be able to live without you," I tell him honestly.

"Sweet Thing," he says. "You never have to think about that. You'll always have me. No matter what, I will always be here. I will always take care of you, safeguard you from anything that could hurt you. You know this, right? I will never let anything or anyone harm you in anyway. Ever," he reassures me.

The last few days has had us all on edge; feeling the pressure to take care of each other, make sure we are all safe. Moments spent together mean more; me being back home, working together, it's all more meaningful.

"I will never let anyone separate us," he whispers and for the first time in maybe our whole relationship, I wholeheartedly believe him.

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His hands are wrapped tightly around my waist as he sways us back and forth; the music creating a soothing and consoling environment. I can feel the vibration in his chest as he sings along to the crackling sound of the record spinning, the music casting a warm glow all around us.