Chapter 18: Days

It's been a few days since Hyejin, Dahyun and Jisu have returned. Have I left the house since then? No, not really. Our scheduled discussion with the CEO is in a few more days’ time. The time I'm spending now is supposedly for the news to sink in and for planning my future, which are both currently bleak. 

I lie in bed like I have for the past two days, not doing or saying much about anything to anyone. I have lost all sense of time since the blinds, lights and door stay closed. The only reason I know it's been two days is because Hyejin just reminded me I haven't eaten for that long.

"I'll just leave it here," she says as she places a tray of fruits, omelette and rice on the top of the cabinet by the door. By the array of food I assume it is morning. I grumble in response as I burrow my face into my pillow. She stays silent for a while but I know by the filtered noise and the way light leaks onto the wall that she is still there. I chuck my blanket over my head in refusal when she suggests to at least let some light into the room. Hyejin sighs. Giving in, she leaves, the door clicking quietly behind her. 

I've bored so many holes into the wall that my eyes have become accustomed to long periods without blinking. Sometimes I wonder what I do all this time but then I think about my problems again—cry, sleep, repeat. I feel more and more lethargic; more and more empty; and more and more reluctant to get out of bed. 

‘After we officially break up, what will I do? Where will I go?’ I still haven't found any answers. The air is heavy with self-pity and the pungent smell of depression. 

Under the blankets it's hot, dark and difficult to breathe, but it's also warm, familiar and safe. It's a tiny little haven where all my thoughts find it difficult to fit, so I feel like there are fewer worries though they are all I breathe.

I don't hear the door creak open or the quiet footsteps that follow. I almost flinch when I hear the springs of my mattress creak and sink by my legs then feel a light weight on my thigh.  I guess it's probably Jisu but I’m proven wrong when a mellow male voice reverberates around the room. 

"Ahri," he coos in a soothing tone that seems to melt over me. It's a voice I haven't heard in a while but it's familiar. It's not the tone I've recently heard from him, though recently it’s only been silence, I find comfort in the past where I used to hear it.

He draws out a breath when I appear to have no reaction. In truth, under the duvets, I'm far too deep in thought to realise the stretch of time. My attention focuses when he speaks again.

"I'm sorry about before," he starts, "Everyone's worried about you."

I shuffle slightly. I can imagine his pleased expression seeing that I’m responding in some form. 

"You're not going to stay under there forever are you?" he begins to taunt lightly. I can feel him creep higher up the bed. "I haven't seen you in ages and—" he hesitates and sighs, "Look, I've thought about what I've said and done and I'm sincerely sorry. I was at fault. I—" he hums as he rethinks his phrasing, "—I was wrong to try and take advantage of the situation. You are with Hoseok and I was out of line."

I bite my bottom lip. He knows there's no way I can ignore him after that, I've never heard him apologise so deeply since he's previously never done any wrong to me. Hesitantly, my fingers tip toe to the edges of the blanket and carefully peel it off. My swollen face is greeted with the cool air and Namjoon's relieved smile. I note that his hair colour has changed since last time.

"I accept your apology," I croak.

Namjoon chuckles at my most likely horrible appearance. In contrary to mine, his voice is rich and soothing, as if to carefully wake me from sleep. He's dressed comfortably in a long loose shirt and cardigan, paired with an equally loose pair of black pants, his peach-blonde hair peeping out of one of his quirky hats. He pats my lap and asks if I'm alright.

I slowly sit up and shuffle closer to the wall so Namjoon can sit properly.  I tip my head and sigh, pressing my lips into a straight line. I laugh bitterly as I tuck away greasy strands of hair behind my ear. Shrugging limply, I hum in response. I have no energy to go through the thoughts and emotions in my head out loud.

Namjoon sighs and gently pats the duvets to a rhythm in his head. 

"How'd you know?" I mumble as his eyes trail around the room. There's a trail of tissues flowering the floor once again. 

"Know what?" he replies mindlessly as he inspects the sty. 

"That I'm like this," I grumble, embarrassed of my own mental status.

Namjoon presses his lips into one of his signature dimpled smiles, his patting stopping momentarily. When he continues to hesitate I guess ‘Hyejin.’ He doesn't reject so I take that I'm correct. 

"Would have you preferred Hoseok to come?" he asks cautiously.

I flinch slightly.

Namjoon hums softly from the back of his throat, his patting continuing again. "Have you been ignoring him?" he gently presses though I can see the seriousness and worry in his gaze.

I drop my eyes. I fail to respond. I can't deny it—I feel like I've been lying enough as it is. I am aware of the missed calls and unread text messages, I am aware that he had even called the home phone—I just can't handle more emotions right now. I stare down at my lap, silently tracing the patterns on the blanket with my index finger.

Namjoon watches quietly. "You can't avoid this all forever, Ahri," he reminds me under his breath. 

I stop tracing the blue and white squares and timidly look up at him. He wears a weary worried expression. I start to scratch anxiously at my palms, my bottom lip quivering.
                 
"Namjoon—" I croak. 

He purses his lips, reaches out and drops my forehead into the nook of his neck.

"I don't know what to do," I mutter against his shirt collar.

He breathes lightly as he gently pats my back. "It's alright," he whispers. Pushing back my hair, he then says something I know I've let my pride hide. "You can always return home."

I'm taken aback slightly by his comment and flinch. I'm about to pull away when he gently yet firmly places his hand on the back of my head before continuing.

"It's not that I don't want you here," he explains hurriedly. "I just think you'd be happier." I feel him smile against my temple, "You miss your family, don't you?"

I instantly feel a weight lift from my chest. I let out a relieved laugh that melts into tears. I feel reassured that that option is alright, that it's not cowardly or taking a step back, and that I shouldn't feel guilty to want to live quietly once again.

"It's alright to hug you, right?" I choke between muffled cries.

I feel Namjoon nod and pull me closer. I wrap my arms around his waist, shuffling near. I want to savour this— the lightness in my chest, clearness in my mind and the ease in my muscles. Acceptance feels safer than the latch of the bed. I've missed him and I've missed even just this ounce of peace of mind.

“When are you planning to come out?” Namjoon teases after the tears and hiccups stop.

I groan as I chuck a pillow at him. I rub my weary eyes and pat my face, hoping that it’d help the blood circulation. I notice the grin creeping up Namjoon’s face and instinctively give him a light kick. He just laughs it off.

“Have you eaten?” he asks tenderly. He knows by my hesitation that the is a ‘no.’ Getting up from my bed, he walks over to the cabinet to fetch the tray of food Hyejin had placed on top of it earlier.

Namjoon places the tray on my lap and encourages me to eat. I sigh and reluctantly pick up a slice of cut apple. As I do so, he helps himself to a mandarin, the citrus scent tingling my senses awake.

He eyes the omelette, “I expect you to eat that too,” he says before popping a section of fruit in his mouth.

I roll my eyes but obediently do so.

Hyejin, Dahyun and Jisu look stunned after we emerge from my bitter den with an empty tray in Namjoon’s hands. They look even more shocked when I excuse myself for a shower.

Over the warm shards of water, I can hear their excited voices ring through the bathroom walls. They exclaim their shock and relief whilst bombarding Namjoon with questions.

As a generously pump the shampoo and create a thick lather, I realise I did mention to Dahyun, Hyejin and Jisu that I had drifted slightly from Namjoon and begin to wonder why they would have called him over. They could have called Yoongi over or any of the other members. I find myself truthfully relieved it wasn’t Hoseok. I just was not ready to face him. If I were to move back to Australia with my family, how would I tell him?

I start to wonder about what life would be like without everyone here. It’s not that I don’t love the people, but the ease and quietness of life out of the spotlight does entice me. Without the constant pressure and judgement, it sounds so unbelievably tranquil.

My thoughts dither as I hear the laughter from the living room. I purse my lips as I feel a clang in my chest. I change the water from hot to cold and let the chill bite my skin and rack my bones. I brush my fingers through my hair, washing out the suds, closing my eyes, I breathe in the damp air. It’s about time I make a decision but there’s something holding me back—someone I have to consider.

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright?” Namjoon asks with furrowed brows. “You sure you don’t want me to walk you all the way?”

I smile in assurance. “The apartment’s just over there,” I say as I nod around the corner.

“Just because I said that you could go home you don’t have to do this.” The crease between his brows deepens as he frowns. “You can think about it, you still have time, at least sleep on it.”

“I knew ages ago that it wasn’t right of me to let it drag on,” I laugh bitterly and wave him off, “I didn’t even tell you anything.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” He lets out an exasperated sigh as he briefly massages his temple with his index finger. “I can tell by your fidgeting,” he adds, tipping his head to my hand that is relentlessly fiddling with the necklace around my neck.

I let go of the three tiny heart pendants, their surfaces now warm from my fingertips. I clear my throat and feign innocence before reassuring him again that I knew what I was doing.

“But—”

I hush him, pull on a smile and knowing he probably won’t let this go, take the first few steps towards the apartment block.

“By the way—” I say just as I brush past Namjoon’s shoulder; he turns around, features softening. “Thank you.” I smile and nod my head.

With each step closer to the apartment, my feet drag longer as my decision becomes more and more real—and more painful.

A/N: Unfortunately 'Hold Me Tight' only has a few more chapters to go! But my friend and I are working up a series of linked BTS Oneshots and I am trying to think up a new story plot (probably Yoongi as the main... if not it will probably be Hobi again I'm so biased) but I'm also considering to write a HwaYangYeonHwa inspired story...Anyway I hope you enjoy the rest of this story!