To go in, or not to go in…? I stand outside Bangtan’s dorm contemplating. It wasn’t my intention to come here. I was on my way home but somehow… I just ended up here. I sigh.

 

“Ah!” A deep scream comes from the inside and almost immediately I key in the passcode and rush in.

 

“Oppa!” I freeze in my position when I see him stand in the kitchen with a pot of water. More precisely, the pot is on the floor and the water is well, all over.

 

“Byeol?” He stares at me from where he is. “How did you…?

 

I cuss under my breath. Yoongi had on his own accord texted me their passcode early this morning. I wasn’t going to use it but…

 

“What are you doing?” I put my bag down on the sofa and approach him. I eye the medicated plasters over his legs and frown.

 

“I’m trying to cook noodles,” he says with an awkward smile while rubbing the back of his neck.

 

I roll my eyes. “And you can’t even get a pot of water boiling. Come over first.” I bend over to pick up the pot and throw a couple of cloths down to absorb the water. Namjoon takes a big stride over the puddle but overlooking a small patch, he slips.

 

“Hey!” I steady him before he falls over. I’m about to lecture him until I remember that he’s not in a good condition. I sigh.

 

“Sorry…” Namjoon apologises, a guilt-stricken look on his face.

 

“What’s there to be sorry about.” Supporting him by the arm, I bring him into the living room. “Sit here and don’t move, got it?” Turning around, I return to the kitchen and finish cleaning the mess before proceeding to raid the fridge.

 

“What are you doing?” I hear Namjoon’s voice from outside.

 

“Don’t even talk!” I prepare my ingredients with practiced skill. Setting a new pot of water on the stove, I let it boil under medium heat.

 

 

Music suddenly comes on as I start cooking. Looking out, I realise that he has the television and a music video is playing.

 

 

 

Opening the instant noodle packet, I put the noodles in and let it sit for a while before pouring the soup seasoning. I grab a pair of chopsticks and stir around the pot to loosen the noodles. The music plays on.

 

 

From a small bowl, I pour a beaten egg into the pot as I swirl the noodles around.

 

 

I watch the pot bubble mindlessly for a few seconds before throwing in bite-size sausages and some random veggie I’d found in the fridge.

 

 

The noodles finish cooking in another minute and when it does, I turn off the fire, stirring the contents of the pot one more time. I find a coaster and taking it with me, I slowly carry the pot to the dining table. I return to the kitchen again for cutlery. Namjoon looks at me as I turn to him, the table set. He glances over at the steaming noodles and swallows.

 

Catching his attention, I wave him over. He stands slowly and waddles across, sitting in the chair I’d just pulled out for him. I take the seat beside him and watch as he slurps up a huge mouthful of noodles. His face distorts at the heat on his tongue.

 

“Eat slowly,” I say, setting a cup of water in front of him. Namjoon cheekily flashes his dimples before taking another big bite. I can’t help but ask, “Didn’t Jin oppa feed you?”

 

Namjoon pauses mid-bite and blinks at me.

 

“Chew properly and swallow before you talk.”

 

And so he does. “He’s pretty pissed at me.” Silence. “I heard Yoongi hyung went over last night. What did he say?”

 

“Eat.” I stand and head into the kitchen to wash the dishes in the sink. I take my time to drag confrontation for as long as I can. Namjoon suddenly comes up from behind me and places his pot into the sink.

 

“I’ll wash this one,” he says, taking the soapy sponge from me. I let him do as he wants but I don’t move away, staying there to keep an eye on Namjoon in case his destructive power strikes. His arm brushes against mine many times in the short minute he takes to wash the pot. He washes his hands when he’s done and wipes them on his pants. I frown at him.

 

“Come out if you’re done,” I tell him, walking out to the living room. “Sit down.”

 

“What are you going to do?” He asks suspiciously but does as he’s told. I realise the sofa is too short for him to stretch out his legs fully so I bring another chair over and make him prop his legs up on that instead. I squat on the floor beside.

 

“Whose idea was it to use medicated plasters?” I ask as I pull the first one off.

 

“Ow!” Namjoon winces as the hairs on his leg come off with the plaster. I send him an apologetic look.

 

“Why did you even stick so many…” I quickly peel off the remaining many plasters. Besides the near bald patches on his legs, I stare at the blotchy patches left by the plasters. Namjoon bends over and rubs his legs.

 

“Byeol-ah…”

 

“Hmm.”

 

“Yoongi hyung-”

 

I put a hesitant hand on his shin. “Tell me if it hurts.”

 

I did a bit of research and apparently, massages work for muscle pain. I’m not so sure about this but it’s worth a try. Slowly and as not-awkwardly as I can, I massage his aching legs. I glance over at Namjoon after every few seconds to monitor his expression but because our eyes always meet, I stop doing that and focus instead on this mole on his leg.

 

Namjoon watches me quietly. “What am I supposed to make of this?” Still avoiding his gaze, I take my hands off him and change to a sitting down cross-legged position. I remain silent for quite a while.

 

“Honestly, I don’t know.” I look up at him. “I thought it was because you keep reminding me of him. But Soo’s right - being with you makes me forget about him, and maybe that’s what I was more afraid of.”

 

“I-” Namjoon starts, but I cut him off.

 

 “I wanted to avoid you, but you kept appearing in front of me. You make me worry about you, but yet your presence is so strong that I subconsciously want to lean on you. You make my heart flutter every time and I can’t help but think of you every second. I don’t even know what to make of this myself. Is this me liking you, or am I just unknowingly treating you as him? Oppa-”

 

Namjoon suddenly leans over and embraces me in a tight hug. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

 

Tears fall without my permission and I sniff them back. Hearing this, Namjoon releases me and gently wipes the tears away.

 

“I can wait,” he says.

 

“What…?”

 

“Until you sort out your feelings, I’ll wait. But until then, don’t avoid me or try to push me away. I’m going to show you bit by bit this heart of mine that I’ve kept hidden for too long.” 

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