ժҽʂƚιɳҽժ 🌻 김남준

≋7≋

"You're not talking about the waffles anymore, are you?"

I chuckle, grabbing my cup of coffee. "Depends," I take a sip, setting it back on the table while she watches me, engaged in my every movement. "Do you want to interpret it that way?"

"Absolutely," she replies without hesitation. "Because food is the perfect metaphor for life."

"Are you perhaps referring to a certain Tom Hanks film? Life is like a –"

" – box of chocolates! Yes!" she exclaims, clapping her hands. "Please, that film was so poignant, so enriching, like most Tom Hanks films, honestly, especially –"

" – Captain Phillips. You watched that too?" I gape at the woman before me with a mind that intrigues me just as much as her body does, getting lost in conversation about our favourite films and life messages, getting lost in each other's intellectual galaxies.

I could talk to her all day, however we are interrupted by the sound of her phone buzzing, and she springs up to answer it while I sit back on the sofa, observing the way the sun sets her hair aflame and traces her skin as she faces the window, speaking. When she hangs up, her eyebrows are knitted together tightly.

"I gotta go," she says this with such regret that I feel guilty for keeping her here for my own selfish pleasure, but at the same time, I'm so glad.

"Well, it's been...amazing...Namjoon," she runs a hand through her mahogany hair, biting her lip as it curves into a smile. "I really enjoy talking to you."

"What can I say? I'm a great conversationalist," I smirk, and she rolls her eyes, laughing. "But so are you. I mean, I feel like we can talk about anything and everything for hours...Hwarin," I step forward, taking her hand in mine and gazing into her earthy brown eyes. They glimmer.

"Yes, Namjoon?" she leans forward, teasingly, cheekily, so I kiss her, softly, then with a little more pressure, eliciting subtle moans of pleasure, but I slowly pull away, pressing my forehead against hers.

"Let's...savour this," I whisper, and she closes her eyes, nodding.

"Let's savour this."

🌻

This man never ceases to amaze me.

I get a text saying to meet him at the local park wearing something practical, so I opt for my usual denim shorts and a top, wondering what he has in store.

"Bike riding?" I laugh once I see the two rental bikes he has leaning against the tree. He beams.

"I had a feeling you were the type to ride bikes, so I thought why not go bike riding around this beautiful Pacific island?"

"Well good thing you're not wrong," I chuckle. "Imagine if you rented these and then found out that I don't even know how to ride."

"Then I'd teach you," Namjoon replies simply.

"You really do have it all figured out don't you, Kim Namjoon?" I gaze at him in wonder and he flashes a dimple.

"Of course."

We cycle through the park and onto the road that leads to the mountain. The sun shines bright above us as we race each other, chortling like children, until we come to a stop at the foot of the mountain where lots of tourists are gathered.

"Are you Mr and Mrs Yang? Because we've been waiting fifteen minutes for you," A panicked looking American guy with a bright red t-shirt and blue eyes approaches us, and Namjoon and I exchange a look.

"Yes, that's us," I pipe up, and the tour guide heaves a sigh of relief.

"Oh, thank Jesus! Come on, you're very late for the couple's hike," he waves us over to follow him, so we do, leaving our rented bikes at the racks before joining a group of couples, young and old and smothered in sunscreen, for a hike.

"Hwarin what are we doing?" Namjoon hisses as the man who we learn to be called Tim rallies everyone up.

"Being spontaneous," I grin. "Come on, it'll be fun."

"Okay," Namjoon sighs, but he can't help but smile when I take his hand, squeezing it as we begin to embark up the mountain.

The day only gets hotter as we climb higher, the breeze through the trees refreshing our perspired skin, the golden green light filtered through the canopy softening our eyes and our hearts. Or at least, that was how Tim described it.

"He sounds like you," I nudge Namjoon, who takes his cap off to mop his forehead, his golden hair slicked with sweat. When I meet his eyes, they're green, like the trees.

"I sound better," he smirks, but he quickly dissolves into an embarrassed chuckle, shaking his head.

"No, you do," I assure him with a playful nudge.

"I do," he nods with an undoubting smile, scrunching his nose, and I have the sudden urge to boop it. So I do.

"Boop!"

"What was that for?" he peers down at me in amusement, while I giggle, marching ahead of him so that we don't fall behind. He lopes after me, huffing and chuckling as he catches up to me. "Did you just boop my nose?"

I send him a cheeky grin. "And what about it?"

He laughs, observing me with his eyes that reflect the green around us. "Nothing, just..."

"What?" I quip, and he laughs again.

"You're different," he says finally, and I roll my eyes.

"Yes, Namjoon, I'm different, every girl is different, I'm sure you've told all your girls that."

When he doesn't respond, I glance over at him, and he's pursing his lips and puckering his brow. I halt in my tracks.

"Hwarin," he looks up. "I haven't been with that many girls. Or any, really. Officially."

I raise my eyebrows. "Are you serious? A perfect guy like you, who's just as smart as he is attractive, with just the right amount of romantic charm and cute awkwardness, a guy like you...has never been with anyone?"

He shakes his head and I take a step toward him, gracing him with a soft smile. "You know, I find that hard to believe, because you're just so..."

"Hwarin, when I said you're different, I mean that you're just...you. Unapologetically you," he speaks up, setting me with a hard gaze. "I love that you don't need to pretend to be someone else, or act a certain way. What I'm saying is –"

He steps forward, closing the gap between us and completing his sentence on my lips, holding me tight against him. We pause in between with a smile, and I grasp his neck, savouring his salty taste.

"Hey, Hwarin," he breaks away first, much to my displeasure.

"What?"

"They're gone."

"Who?" I nudge my nose against his, and he chuckles.

"Doesn't matter," he whispers before capturing my lips in his once again.

"I wonder what happened to Mr and Mrs Yang," Namjoon says as we walk back down the mountain trail.

"They probably realized that there are more enjoyable things to do than hiking," I reply with a mischievous lilt in my tone.

"What do you m – oh. Hwarin!" he laughs. "You're so bad."

"Oh, I know, baby, I know," I wink at him as I walk ahead of him, and in a spur of the moment decision, I shout, "Last one down the mountain is a rotten egg!"

"Hwarin!"

But he follows me, our bubbling laughter dispersing into the canopy above and disturbing a flock of rainbow birds that harmonize with us, becoming one with nature, and one with each other.