For you (Kim Namjoon x Reader)

Chapter 4

Today, he didn't stand near the road. In fact, he was right beside you as you painted. You couldn't remember where the conversation ended last night, but somehow, it led to him joining your morning creative session. Oh, that's right, he specifically asked if he could join you. It was weird, you have to admit, but you still said yes anyways because you could use the distraction. As you recommended, he wore comfortable pants and a large cardigan.

He watched as you sighed for the fifth time in 9 minutes. "I shouldn't have let you come along."

"Am I bothering you?" he asked, worried and a little flustered.

"No, it's quite the opposite. You're just watching me struggle and get frustrated with myself." you answered. Yet again, nothing new appeared on the canvas. It was still a mirage of colors with no direction. You put the brush down and threw your head back.

"Is everything alright? You seemed troubled."

"It's nothing, I'm just being weird." you chuckled, but he was still serious.

"Talk to me, Y/N."

The tone of his voice made you comply and your shoulders drop. "Alright. I almost don't want to continue it because I know it'll end and that makes me sad. Sounds odd, I know. I love starting something, because it gives me this weird joy in my fingers. Like I'm creating something powerful, even just to me. But I never want to paint the ending. There's something so melodramatic about it, a sad ending to a story I want to continue forever. That's why in every painting I've done so far, there are certain details that are left unfinished."

When he didn't say anything immediately right after, part of you wanted to jump in the water to escape. Instead of dwelling on it, you picked up the brush and dabbed it in white, for the waves, but his hand went up and grabbed your wrist. "Don't finish then." he suddenly said.

"What?"

He leaned a little bit closer, causing you to lean as far back as you could. He smelled of pine wood and intrigued. "I don't like sad endings either." he confessed. His face remained dangerously close to yours, you had to force your eyes to look at something other than his eyes and lips. He thought it was cute, and went back to his original position. You cleared your throat, unsure of what you should do next. The paintbrush still hangs in the air. "I'm a sucker for happy endings. I love capturing it, as if I have the power to freeze time and step into that moment whenever I please."

"You're just copying what I said." you scoffed and jokingly rolled your eyes. His laugh was addicting, deep as the ocean.

"You got me there. Sorry."

"What moment would you want to step into right now?"

He hummed a bit, eyes scanning the water in front. "This. Right here, with you."

You felt your cheeks warming up, even more than with the chilly air. Quickly, you pulled your scarf up to cover the redness. "Are all city boys like this?" you asked.

"Probably." he shrugged. "But I'm the only one who's honest." There it is again, that damming smile that made your insides go weird. He probably was not honest since he was the first person to tell you you're pretty. Just this morning when he saw you, the words came out of him like an enchantment. But he had been honest about other things, like his family, his childhood, his dreams. And for some reason, you found yourself opening up to him about little pieces of your life. That morning, you both talked as if you've known each other your whole life.

"Wait, your grandmother was the lady that lived in that big mansion up the road?" you asked in astonishment.

"Yes, is that a problem?"

"No, not at all. I remember she would also give Jimin and I books for our birthdays. Sometimes she would let me go into her wardrobe and play around. Her garden is really nice too, or I guess was. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up."

Namjoon wondered why you were sorry, but then he felt his tears falling down his cheeks. You gasped lightly and wiped them away, his cheeks were cold. "No, don't be sorry. Halmeoni was a wonderful person. I was just upset that I didn't get to spend more time with her at her home while she was alive. I was here for her funeral, a few years back."

You frowned. "I was at her funeral too. Her garden keeper sent my family an invitation. My parents did not want to let me go with all the commotions and city people. Jimin was too sad to go. So I snuck out, I wanted to say my goodbyes properly."

"Strange," Namjoon began, "I feel I would have remembered seeing a kid there."

"I stole my mom's high heels and attempted to do my makeup like a grown up." The memories of running in those oversized heels and painting deep rough on your lips, you reminded yourself of a...

"Wait, you were the clown looking woman?" Namjoon exclaimed, he held his hands over his mouth but the words had already done the damage.

"Yah, I tried really hard, alright?" you objected. "I was 14, I didn't know what foundation was. It's not easy being a girl. But yes, that was me. My mom scolded me so much once I got back home. Especially since I was crying, I looked like I got ran over by a car."

Namjoon grinned. "I knew there was something familiar about you."

"Yeah, right."

"Do you remember seeing me? Guess not, I did get more handsome." he smirked.

"Well handsome won't make me forget that you broke her favorite plate because you were crying so much." you pointed out. He flushed out of embarrassment and sank down in his chair.

"I was a kid, leave me alone."

"We were the same age!"

The sound of laughter filled the early morning air. How strange, in a way, you have known him for almost all of your life. What a coincidence that the red string had pulled you two back together to the place where it all started.