•Pseudonym•

~The Email~

It was a quaint, little bookshop that was tucked away.

It held vintage vibes, something only that people with a true taste for the world of creativity would care for.

You turned, pushing open the door that rung it's bell to notify an entering patron.

Just like always, the warm smell of cinnamon and books greeted your nostrils, swirling around until it settled. It was incredibly comforting.

The dim yellowish light gave the rose wallpaper a hue unlike anything else. The sight bouncing in your orbs until you registered it fully.

A wooden rocking chair placed conveniently near the back so that a person could read if they pleased. Along with a plain brown sofa, one that you'd might find in a grandparents' home.

A few cases held books that couldn't be found nowhere else, due to their increasing age, and unknown origin. It was where some of the greatest minds had written their hearts out, and you were lucky enough to get to read them.

For the past few years this is where you resided to get some peace.

It was a true home away from home.

Like a kid at a candy store, you rushed over to the new arrivals section. Much too gleeful to see what great reads you could find next.

Hands breezing over the covers, the touch of them never failed to send shivers down your spine.

This is what made you fall in love with reading... and eventually writing.

It was more than just a story to you.

It was an existence.

It was an idea in someone's mind, that they skillfully brought to life by their words.

It was a carefully debated process of how someone wanted to portray themselves through a form of art.

Literary art.

The many times you've captured a different perspective from your own was countless. A thrillingly gratifying experience was given to you everytime you picked up a book.

And you couldn't ask to have found anything better in your life.

"Trying to get more of my merchandise into your possession again?" a deep voice startled, making the book you held fumble about in your hands.

You slipped it back into place before speaking.

"S-sorry, I was only browsing," you humbly apologized, much too nice to argue back.

"That's okay, this is a bookstore. I wouldn't expect you to be here and not be looking at them."

"You're right, I guess-" you had finally turned around, breath caught in your throat as you recognized the voice.

"N-na-"

"Hey, y/n," the tall man's dimpled smile lighting your heart ablaze.

You dashed to him, arms wrapping around his neck to scoop him to you. Burying your face in his shoulder, you allowed yourself to melt into his loving spirit.

He swung slender arms around you, letting you squeeze the air out of him.

"Namjoon... I've missed you so much," you mumbled into his sweater.

"I would say the same," he wheezed, "But we saw each other yesterday."

"That's a whole twenty four hours ago," you squeezed tighter, "That's forever ago!"