F is for face mask

She came home later than normal, completely exhausted after a long day at work. The lights were already on which meant that Namjoon was there. She kicked off her shoes, not caring that they weren’t put away properly. She slipped on her slippers and shuffled through the apartment, looking for her boyfriend. What she hadn’t expected to find, was him, sitting on the middle of her bed, the front of his hair held back by at least four clips, and him with one of her face masks on.

She burst into loud giggles as he adjusted the white sheet against his skin, before looking at her with a horrified expression at being caught. She held onto the doorknob to hold herself up. “Joonie! What on earth?” she managed to say in-between laughs. He was sure that if it wasn’t for the white mask covering his face, his cheeks would have been bright red.

“I just wanted to try it out, you always have such nice skin. But I think I put it on wrong, look.” He said turning his head to fully face him and she cracked up all over again. He hadn’t opened the mask up fully so his left eye was completely covered by the mask.

She made her way over to him and knelt on the bed in front of him, helping him to properly put the mask on. “There. Isn’t that better?” she said with a chuckle as his left eye was finally freed. He grinned at her. “Much.” She shook her head at her boyfriend’s antics as she continued to chuckle at him.

G is for gloomy

It’s nearing the end of his tour. He’s been gone for almost three months. They’ve managed to keep in contact through Kakao and skype, but with his packed schedule, it’s really hard for them to keep in contact. This is the one part of their relationship that she hates. It’s not that she’s unable to live without him by her side, she just prefers it when he is. She hangs out with her friends, she goes to university, work and does everything else as normal. The only thing that has changed, is the lack of his presence.

She looks at her phone and flicks through his schedule. If everything was running on time, he would be finishing up recording a TV show. She frowned, worried if he’d had time to eat before the recording and if he’d gotten enough sleep the night before. When he was with her, it was easier for her to make sure he ate and that she let him sleep that extra ten minutes in the morning. But when he was away, she knew that he would be too busy taking care of s to take care of himself

She sighed and curled up in bed, her phone cradled in her hand. She wanted to message him but she knew him too well. If she text him now, he’d make sure to text back no matter what. Even if it meant giving up his already short sleeping time. Instead, she put her phone on her bedside unit and fell into an uneasy sleep. Dreaming of the moment when he would arrive back in Korea and she could once again look after him.

H is for hot head

Namjoon had always been the calmer one in the relationship. The two of them rarely fought thanks to his calm nature. But sometimes, her temper would get the better of her. They were in the dressing room while the boys prepared for a concert later that night. Her being backstage with them was a common occurrence. She was flicking through her twitter when a thread of comments about BTS caught her attention.

The more she read, the more irritated she became. Some anti-fans were posting horrible things about the boys. After a few minutes of reading through the comments, she threw the phone onto the couch beside her in disgust. Namjoon picked up on her mood instantly. She went over to her side, sitting on the arm of the couch and laying a hand on her shoulder. “What’s up?” he asked gently. She huffed loudly. “Stupid anti fans writing crap all over twitter. It drives me crazy. They’re making up rumours and spreading crap that isn’t even true without even trying to find out the truth about the situation. It really pisses me off!”

Namjoon slid onto the couch, squishing himself between her and the arm of the couch, half in her lap as he pulled her into a hug. “There’s no need to get so upset about it. The opinions of people like that don’t mean anything to us.” She pouted and crossed her arms over her chest. “I know I shouldn’t get angry, but I can’t help myself.” She huffed loudly. Namjoon kissed the top of her head before starting to massage her shoulders.

A few blissful minutes later and all of the tension had seeped out of her. “Feel better?” he asked with a grin. She nodded reluctantly. He kissed the top of her head again. “Good. Because if you keep on frowning like that you're gonna get wrinkles.” He teased, earning him a slap on the thigh. “You’d still love me.” She said cockily. He nodded, “True.” He admitted

I is for insomnia

When he wakes up at 4:30 and her side of the bed is cold, he knows that insomnia has got her again. He gets out of bed and makes his way through to the kitchen. Without fail, she's there, covered in flour and icing, baking god only knows what. She goes through periods where she sleeps fine, then suddenly, she’ll go through a spell where she hardly sleeps at all. He walks up behind her and wraps his arms around her waist.

She puts down her icing with a sigh. “Did I wake you?” she asks guiltily as she leans back into his embrace. He shakes his head, placing gentle kisses on her neck. “No. I woke up on my own and realised you weren’t there with me. So I came to check up on you.” He says as his kisses climb higher on her neck. She moans from the sensation of his lips on her skin.

“How much stuff have you made?” he asks, his lips never leaving her skin. “A lot.” She admits as her head tilts back, falling against his shoulder. His hands skim over the bare skin on her arms. “Come back to bed.” He says as his lips finally leave her skin. She turns to him with a pout, already missing the contact. He grins sleepily at her and she can’t say no. They link hands and head back to bed where he continues to lay gentle kisses all over her body.

J is for journal

She keeps a daily journal. Recording her thoughts and feelings every day. Namjoon has always been really curious about what she writes in there every day, but he’s never asked her to see it. He understands the importance of letting her have her privacy. (A luxury he himself is not awarded when living with six other boys).

One day when she's in the shower, he can’t help but notice her journal lying open on her bed. Despite his better judgement, he glances at the latest entry. He smiles as she reads her thoughts on the date they had been on yesterday. He cautiously checks to make sure she’s still in the shower before flicking through some of the previous entries. He's astounded by the care she’s put into each entry, often with photos stuck on the pages so that she can remember important events.

He gets so engrossed in reliving their memories that he doesn’t hear the water stop. It’s not until he feels drops of water hitting the back of his neck that he notices her. Her wet hair hanging over one shoulder as she stands over him. He slams the journal shut and throws it onto the bed, looking up at her with a guilty expression. “Babe… I was just… I mean… I was… I’m sorry.” He says as he hangs his head in embarrassment. She doesn’t say anything as she takes a seat beside him, taking the journal into her hands, her fingers rubbing the worn leather.

“If you wanted to read it, all you had to do was ask you know.” She says and he’s so thankful that she doesn’t sound angry. He glances up at her, the embarrassed expression still on his face. “Sorry babe.” She waves of his apology as she snuggles in against his side, purposely rubbing her wet hair against him as punishment. “Let me get a sneak preview to your new songs and we’re even.” She says as he wraps his arm around her shoulders, holding her close.