“Y/N, you are smart. I know you can do it.”

“Why? Those aren’t so hard for people as smart as you.”

“Hey, since you are a smart kid. I will give you this work.”

You got enough of hearing it all the day. You are smart. Smart… smart… smart…

It almost felt like a nightmare. Were you really smart? Your mother had been telling you since you were a little kid that you were as smart as her. Since you were her kid, you inherited her brain. But as you grew up, you slowly started to not believe it anymore.

How could you be smart, when you’d worked so hard to get into this position you were in at work? How could you be smart, when it took you more effort doing something than an actual person could?

It was also kind of stressful to hear it all the day. People just depended on you to finish their work. And you had to do the work perfectly, yet you couldn’t. You had always messed up the work, at least twice, and then started it again all over again. People always said that you had done well, because you were smart. No one knew how hard it took for you to do this work.

You didn’t hate what you do. (You worked with the production team of a big media company.) You loved your work, but the feeling that you were smart faded away, leaving you with stress and heavy shoulders.

Returning home after a hard day of working and self-insecure, you kicked your shoes aside before storming into your bedroom. The house was empty, dark and cold. It was winter and Christmas was almost there, yet you, nor your boyfriend, Namjoon, had prepared anything for yet. Both of you were too busy, plus, Namjoon wouldn’t be there for the Christmas anyway. He had to work.

Glad that he wasn’t there, tears found their way to your eyes and down your cheeks.

That word, smart, was always a burden. Something you didn’t believe you had. You didn’t believe you were this kind of person everyone talked about. It should encourage you to do your best, but instead it was stressful.

You hadn’t realized that you were crying too hard, until you turned to find him, standing in the doorway, surprised. His eyes were wide open with worry. Namjoon rushed to your side, but you turned away, giving him your back.

You didn’t want him to see you crying like this. You put your hand on your mouth to muffle your sobbing. It was kind of embarrassing that Namjoon saw you crying. You didn’t hear him coming in anyway.

Suddenly, strong arms wrapped around your shoulder in a back hug. Namjoon pulled you tightly to him that your head was leaning on his chest. He was way taller than you, almost towering you. He placed his chin over the crown of your head, his hand rubbing your arms.

The way he was embracing you made you sob harder. Let out all kinds of stress you had all this long. And Namjoon didn’t try to stop you. He lent you his chest to cry on. He gave you warmth that you needed.

With all the mixed feelings you were having, Namjoon was like the pillar that kept you from falling down. He always was there.

When you had calmed a little bit down, Namjoon turned you around to face him. Your face was as red as a tomato, your eyes swollen and puffy.

Namjoon tried hard not to smile at how cute you looked. He never thought you looked ugly when crying, but he didn’t like seeing you crying too as it broke his heart.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.”

“