Pairing: Namhyung/ Vmon
Warnings: insomnia, tiptoed love
Word Count: 913

On paper, what they have is simple. But paper is nothing without ink, and ink has a particular way of flowing, the words forming dips and valleys where there aren't supposed to be any, watering truth down until it's nothing but an imperfect reflection of reality.

Namjoon knows about words, knows their impact and their meaning. They fall from his lips and trickle out of the countless pens he keeps losing; on good days shaping worlds unknown out of stardust and simple notebook paper. 
What he doesn't know is how this got out of control, because words are also what keeps him up this particular night just like so many others before it, his tired eyes blinking into nothing, or perhaps into forever, as he watches the clouds move across the dark midnight sky.

There's a storm in his mind, raging on and on, because his words aren't peaceful and they've never been, jumbled messes tugging on the edges of his vision, needy; demanding attention right this second and he's so sick of it, disgusted by his own ability to turn feelings into sequences of letters which always, always turn out significant enough to require melodies.

If there was a clock nearby, it would show something way past midnight, but that doesn't stop the thoughts from coming to him, they always seem to come, today being one of the worse nights. His body needs sleep, but he physically can't make his mind shut up, not without waking the younger boy, and what they have is way too fragile. Taehyung's way too precious to be burdened; tainted in the waters of Namjoon's mind.

There's a small tug on his sleeve though, then another one, and Taehyung is suddenly there with him, like he always is, asking no questions but instead pulling him into a hug; a real one that has his high-strung heart relax while the beating picks up, until his pulse is the only thing left in his ears, perhaps along with the ever-present sounds of the universe settling around them.

It's strange, how the younger can calm Namjoon's mind and sharpen his senses simultaneously. 

Weirdly, he isn't drowning in spilled ink any longer, though the lead on his tongue is still very much real.
The thunder that has been roaring in his head is replaced by a different kind of force, for Taehyung is a storm; born in the ocean that's still weeping salty tears for him, but he doesn't belong there and he never has. Taehyung belongs in the stars.