Saturday mornings are meant to be lazy mornings. Saturday mornings are meant to be Jongin comfortably nestled under his covers watching re-runs of his favourite sitcom. Saturday mornings are meant to be relaxing.

Saturday mornings are not meant to be crazy mornings.

A - boy isn't supposed to be sitting at the corner of Jongin's bed, smiling at him all casual as like it’s perfectly normal for a stranger to crawl into someone’s bedroom at 7 in the ing morning and sit on their blankets, all the while smiling at nothing.

Jongin almost breaks the table lamp beside his bed as he throws the duvets off him, scrambling to his feet. stranger seems totally unfazed by Jongin freaking out. Even as Jongin backs away to the furthest corner of his room, he continues to sit there, smile so tranquil that Jongin thinks that maybe, this is just a nightmare which he’ll wake up from in 3, 2, 1. His eyes flutter open but stranger is still sitting on his bed, plucking at the seams of his duvet. stranger must have felt him staring and he looked up from the sheets, eyes large and curious only to crinkle into a smile as their eyes locked.

Jongin decides that the most rational choice of action would be to hammer the door down and shriek “Mum!” but his voice in caught in his throat. So he settles for a whimper, pushing his back harder against the mahogany wood of his door, praying for the floor to swallow him up whole.

“Hey, don’t be afraid,”

Jongin’s head jerks up at that voice. It’s low but not gruff, smooth but not greasy, lulling but not overly thick. He gets a good look at the stranger for the first time. His eyes are large, softly laced with the longest lashes Jongin has ever laid eyes on. His skin is a pale yet emanating some sort of warm glow that Jongin hasn’t ever seen before. Soft wisps of reddish-brown hair cover his forehead and his lips stretch into a heart-shape as he smiles yet again. Well, apart from the fact that he was -, Jongin thinks that this stranger was pretty good looking.

“Who are you?” Jongin manages to say and it comes out in a strangled half-whisper, the kind of voice you hear in horror movies where the protagonist meets the antagonist.  The rational side of him is screaming because he’s talking to a stranger, a stranger, who probably escaped from the mental asylum and broke into his house and sneaked into his room and is sitting on his bed right now like it’s the most normal thing to do ; and this isn’t something a rational being should do and Jongin is very much a rational being and he has no idea why his brain has decided to go on an internal battle with itself because really, this isn’t the time for this snarky fight because there is a man, alert, man on his bed and Jongin is talking to him and really, Jongin doesn’t even know what’s going on right now—“you wouldn’t believe me even if I told you,” man shrugs.

“Then, what’s your name?”

“I have no name.”

“You’re lying, everyone has a name,” Jongin is screaming internally because of ’s sake why is he even arguing with a stranger who just appeared on his ing bed 30 minutes ago?!

“not me,” stranger says and smiles that heart-shaped smile again. Jongin wants to wipe that smile off his face.

“Look, I totally have no idea what’s going on now and I don’t even know why I’m even having this conversation with you, I mean you’re a stranger, a stranger for crying out loud, so can you please co-operate and—“

“Jongin, are you up already?” Jongin tenses as he hears his Mum’s voice and the pitter-pattering of approaching footsteps. . He throws a flustered look at stranger who doesn’t even bat an eyelid even as the sounds of footsteps get louder and louder. The room is tiny as and really the only place this man can hide is under the bed and even then, Jongin thinks that he’ll be found. He contemplates the closet but nope, too small, and he considers throwing the covers over man and pretending that it’s a really mega big soft toy but the door knob is turning and he hears the familiar creaking of the door opening and Jongin thinks, it. It’s not like he asked for a stranger to appear on his bed, right?

His mum appears at the doorway, smiling, “good morning, Jongin,” and he musters an awkward half-smile, mind racing to come up with the most rational explanation for why there was a man sitting on his bed like he ing belonged there.

Hey mum, see that man there, well he kinda appeared there and I think that he might have broken into my room and I have no idea how and why and I just kind of spent 30 minutes talking to him and we just argued over the presence or absence of his name and he doesn’t want to tell me his name and I don’t know what we should do, mum, should we call Dad, or should we give the asslyum ring, or should we call FBI, mum help he’s creepy he just smiles into space and says that he has no name and he is and I can see his dingdong mum help I’m scared.

Ok here goes, Jongin breathes and he opens his mouth to possibly give the longest explanation in his life but then his mum is ruffling his hair and pecking him on the cheek before saying, “breakfast in 5 minutes, dear.” Her footsteps shuffle away and the door closes behind her and Jongin’s jaws just about swipes the floor clean. He whips around and stranger peers up at him, eyes still as large and creepy as ever, mouth softly on his thumb. A frission quakes down Jongin’s spine and his stomach feels queasy.

The silence is deafening and Jongin is thinking of running down to the kitchen and screaming mum did you not see that -,c reepy- stranger sitting on my bed??!? when stranger breaks into another one of those smiles, innocent, naïve yet somehow mysterious.

“I really don’t have a name, but if you’d like it, you can call me Kyungsoo.”

Kyungsoo? Jongin stares at him, stomach still doing uneasy churning. That name sounds creepily familiar and then he spots an opened book on the desk, Kyungsoo thumbing at one page.  Right, that was the novel he had to read for his Korean Literature class. The protagonist was named Kyungsoo.

“Kyungsoo’s good,” he says carefully after a pregnant bout of silence, still mindful to leave a considerable amount of distance between him and the stranger.

Kyungsoo’s smile is so bright, Jongin thinks that he might need sunglasses.