~8~

Ten years ago.

Boy meets Girl.

Four weeks ago.

Girl meets Boy.

Today.

"Rice or noodles?"

Truth be told, when facing philosophy assignments, there was only one way to describe Kim Namjoon's train of thought. After all, no matter how lost he would seem, his every unexpected quote would thread its way to its destined example. His every clouded theory would be crystal clear from the moment one last jet-black period would taint his paper. Indeed, his thoughts were the daunting example of an exquisite yet careless whirlwind of precision. Emphasis on 'whirlwind' as his pen all but slipped from his fingers.

All because of the Brown sisters.

"How about both?"

Kim Namjoon would never forget the first time he had seen the Brown twins.

A perfect yet imperfect carbon copy of one another, they seamlessly moved together like magnets around the Brown kitchen. Each more petite than the other, they almost seemed ethereal as Mijin raised a spoon to Mina's lips. So much so that Namjoon could only his head to the side as he followed their movements. A smile naturally drawing itself on his lips as Mijin laughed back at her twin's face. Indeed, disgust written all over it, Mina ran towards the kitchen's fridge and buried her head in it.

"What about you, Kim Namjoon?" Mijin lightly giggled once more as she turned to Namjoon.

"What about me?" He shrugged as she leaned forward on the kitchen's island.

"Rice or noodles?"

Flour gingerly playing on the tips of her nose and hair, Mijin Brown was far from a sight for sore eyes. Indeed, Namjoon was more than fighting the urge to pull her to a shower and personally scrub off the specs of paint playing down the nape of her neck. He truly was. Still, he could only mirror her movements as she cocked her head to the side.

He was simply taken by her mere simplicity.

"I repeat."

Her mere yet ever so enthralling beauty.

"How about both?"

The feel of Mina's arm draping around his shoulders was enough to pull Namjoon out of the usual Brown spell and back to the bitter reality that was their dinner.

"How about it, Kimchi?" Mina insisted as she wrapped her other arm around him.

"What did I tell you about calling me that, Mickey?" Namjoon sighed as he tried shaking her off. 

"Nothing that I haven't told you about calling me 'Mickey'." She clucked her tongue before poking his cheek. "The least you could do is call me 'Minnie'.'

"Did you find your cuteness, like I asked?"

She stared back at him.

He stared back.

A loud groan wrapped around the room as she smacked the back of his head.

In his defense, he had asked for her cuteness years ago and she still hadn't bothered to comply. Instead, she'd given him more er punches than he could count and cut the beautiful long locks that would have been, into a pixie cut. All before piercing her nose and earrings in more ways than Mrs. Brown and Namjoon could fathom.

"Could you stop stealing our food, like I asked?" She mock-gasped as she plopped down next to him.

"I wouldn't be stealing if you stopped begging to have my brothers over for dinner." He rolled his eyes back at her before poking her forehead with his pen. "You do know that one is 2 and the other 10?"

"You do know that your sister is going to have your head if you keep on saying that she's a boy?"

"You do know that you still haven't chosen between rice or noodles?"

The Brown twins were many things as one all but cussed for dear life away from Namjoon and the other held rice and noodles to her cheeks. They truly were. One of them, most definitely being downright cute as Mina bolted from her seat to tackle her sister into a hug.

"How dare you use my face to be that adorable?" Mina mock-pouted as Mijin lightly squeezed her cheek.

"Is it really the same face after all the surgeries you went through?" Namjoon teased.

"It was one time, Kimchi!" Mina snapped as he nodded to himself.

"One time too many."

At this rate, Kim Namjoon would sooner get a degree in pissing off Mina Brown than anything else. Still, even as the youngest Brown twin relentlessly shook him, he could only focus on Mijin's pursed lips. He had just blown one of her umpteenth attempts to steer the conversation in favor of her stove. They damn well knew it by how hard Mina was clutching the front of his shirt. Still, teasingly raising an eyebrow, he could only chuckle as she flipped him a finger.

Only to hurriedly hide it behind her glass of water as the youngest Kim dragged himself into the kitchen.

Sleepy beyond words, he slowly rubbed his eyes as he made his way towards Mijin.

"Minmin's up." Mijin sang as he bumped into her leg. Repeatedly. "You wouldn't care for rice or noodles, would you?"

Her only answer?

A loud yawn and chubby arms wrapping around her leg.

"Daring little cutie, as usual." Mina smiled as she settled back into her seat.

Though a two-year long feud had settled between the Kim brothers from the moment Minhyuk had wailed from his brother's arms into Mijin's; Namjoon's loving smile was undeniable as his brother buried his neck in the crook of Mijin's neck. After all, this was one battle he was always willing to lose when he took in their soothing portrait.

The beautiful moment forever scarred by the perfectly timed fart resonating in Minhyuk's diaper.

Mina's appalled gaze speaking loudly enough for the three of them.

Not that Mijin minded as she simply kissed the top of his head.

"I'll put him back on the couch." She whispered against his skin. "There better only be one choice on that kitchen counter when I'm back."

Though Mina nodded back at her twin's glare, they all knew that no choice would be made. She would only come back, frustrated beyond words and decide to feed herself. Only one lucky Kim sibling included.

Much to unlucky Kim Namjoon's dismay.

After all, only so much could be done for him as he looked at an empty doorway with as much love and affection that most would kill to obtain.

"I've already sent your kids to college by the way you're looking at her."

A fact that Mina Brown would never hesitate to point out.

"Rice or noodles, Mickey?"

There were words for the way Mina looked back at Namjoon. There truly were and they all began in the ease with which he let his pen slide between his fingers. His attention focusing on his long-discarded notes as he felt her leaning in.

"Kimchi."

All the way to her fingers under his chin.

"Kimchi."

Same face.

"Kiss or stare."

Same voice.

"Choose wisely, Kim Namjoon."

Yet, his heart failed to skip a beat as he looked back into her beautiful jade eyes.

"You may lose my sister if all you do is stare."

Stare.

A long and fixed look.

"I've seen the way you look at my daughter."

Look.

To regard in a specified way.

"You love my daughter, don't you?"

That special night, from the first second Namjoon had hesitated to slip off Sohyun's shoes, to the blush on his cheeks as he'd hurriedly shaken his head under Mr. Brown's knowing smile; something had changed. After 10 years of sweet Kim-Brown neighbor unity, something had terribly changed. No longer a source of laughter and joy, Monday, Wednesday and Friday nights had become Namjoon's bittersweet burden.

Mr. Brown had claimed that Namjoon had been in love with his daughter yet he hadn't. He truly hadn't. He had simply wanted to be with his best friend. They had always been together.

That was why he hadn't wanted to grow out of this childish ritual.

That had been it.

Still, his steps had only grown heavier with each derision as time had passed.

Perfectly on cue with his overflowing emotions.

After all, he was very much capable of feeding his siblings. He even had their favorite delivery services on speed dial if he burned the dishes their mother had left for them. Still, he would always bring them over. The mountain of things he had to do would sooner be finished in the comfort of his own home. Still, he would always bring it over.

All but for even if a second more by her side.

"I'm in the mood for noodles," Namjoon nodded as shook Mina's hands off of his chin.

"Don't you?"

"Mimi's phone has been by her side for a week now," Mina continued as she caught his chin once more.

"She's finally learned how to use the damn thing," Namjoon rolled his eyes before teasingly shaking his chin against her fingers. "Let go, Mickey."

"She smiles at it every once in a while," she ignored him and he could only shrug.

"Tae and Jiminnie are funny that way."

"Their name is Min Yoongi."

This should have been the part where Namjoon reminded Mina that Mijin was free to speak to whomever she wanted.

This should have been the part where he shrugged her off some more.

This should have been the part for a drastic subject change.

It should have.

Still, Kim Namjoon had never been quite as still.

"At least, that's what it says," Mina nodded. "She never calls or texts. She just stares."

A long and fixed look.

"Then why blame me for staring?" Namjoon tried as Mina pursed her lips.

"Because my sister doesn't stare back."

Mina could have slapped Namjoon, it would have amounted to the same thing.

Especially as she continued.

"I've also told you that I am not my sister," she reminded him as her fingers trailed on his chin.

"I have agreed more than once," he cocked his head to the side as she nodded.

"So, stop looking at me like that."

Like he knew that she wasn't Mijin.

Like the thought didn't bother him.

Like he would kiss her.

Again.

"Mina-."

Her fingers lingered on his skin long enough to mean everything yet nothing at once.

Long enough to make him remember a cold yet enticingly warm afternoon in this very kitchen.

"You didn't choose?"

Perfectly on cue, Mijin's laughter crept up his back and chased away the cold that Mina had brought him. So much so that the smile on his lips was undeniable as a familiar hand crept up his arm.

All in bitter contrast to Mina's sigh as she got to her feet.

"We want noodles," she called as she exited the kitchen.

"Noted," Mijin smiled before looking back at Namjoon. "What else will you need, Kim Namjoon?"

You.

He had thought his answer just as softly as she had reached over the counter. Yet, she said nothing more, nothing less, as she walked over to the stove. Leaning forward on his elbows, he could only his head to the side. After all, it always unnerved him how she found herself across a kitchen. Almost as easily, if not even more, than across a canvas.

"How many times have I told you to take a picture, Joonie?"

Her eyes never left her knife as she chopped away.

Yet, her lips betrayed the smile that he had felt in her voice.

"How many have I already taken?" He mock-gasped as he rested his chin on his hand.

"I'm expecting 70% of whatever your exhibit will bring in," she stuck her tongue out at him.

"I never said that they were masterpieces," he easily shot back. "I could blackmail you to the ends of this earth, Mimi."

"You would never, Kim Namjoon."

"I would."

He truly could blackmail her. All by starting from the cute scrunch of her nose as she turned back towards him. Still, he could only laugh as he reveled in the comfortable silence that settled between them.

He perfectly knew that she never stared back at him.

He perfectly knew that this was all he could ever ask for.

This seemingly bittersweet happiness.

"Rather than blackmailing me, finish the paper that you haven't even started." She clucked her tongue back at him.

"You're distracting me."

Truth be told, she wasn't.

Rather, the memory of her was distracting him. The memory of her careful fingers across unfamiliar skin as she had stopped a hand from brushing against her cheek. The memory of her lips slightly parting as the hand had still brushed a crumb from her flushed cheek.

Oh, so different from her scowl as she now looked back at him.

"Then by all means, join your sister on the dining table."

He could have.

From the first knock on the Brown door, he could have. From the first step into their cozy home, he could have followed Sohyun to the lonely dining table and changed the course of his heartache. However, this was the only time of the week where he could truly be alone with Mijin.

"When was the last time we talked, Mimi?" He softly whispered as she folded her arms across her chest.

"I need a base for the sauce but we only have water and some of mom's iffy substances."

This was the only time when his best friend was truly his and only his.

"Mijin."

Slightly biting on her lower lip, she turned to look at him.

Really look at him.

"Namjoon."

"Mijin."

"Namjoon."

"Mijin." He insisted as a small smile drew itself on her lips.

"Namjoon." She giggled despite herself. "What is it, dear best friend of mine?"

"What if I said that you truly were distracting me from writing this paper?"

This had always been the part where girls would blush as they took in what he meant.

However, this was Mijin and she simply shook her finger back at him.

"Then I'd say, as I've said since freshman year, that this wasn't the major for you."

Kim Namjoon knew many things.

Despite it all, he didn't know how to define the feeling in his chest as his best friend all but skipped towards him. He only knew that it had something to do with how much he loved her. That was all he truly knew and wanted.

However, that wouldn't pay the bills, now would it?

"Close your eyes," she ordered as she took his hands in hers. "What do you see?"

"I'm not doing this again, Mimi," he sighed as he raised their hands to his fringe. "Remember freshman year."

"You are," she insisted as they brushed aside his fringe. "Especially because of freshman year."

"Whose fault is it again that I'm in this major?" He asked as he pulled her closer.

"Yours."

He could only wince as they flicked his forehead.

His eyes naturally drifting to a close.

In a way, he couldn't help the slight scoff that escaped his lips as he faced the void that was his mind. Still, completely aware of Mijin's careful gaze on his face, Namjoon composed himself within the darkness of his thoughts. This was Mijin's go-to method when she was lost, and it had always worked. There was no need for his sunshine of a best friend to be dulled by his fear of the uncertainty that the pursuit of a futile dream held.

Hence, as perfectly as he had done 4 years ago, he lied.

He used his logic and discarded his fear.

He fit all the pieces of his life to mold the perfect dissertation of his future.

A degree in philosophy would provide a stable job as a professor.

A stable income would provide a comfortable home for a family.

A long and beautiful friendship would provide a stable marriage.

Ah.

"So?"

Perfectly on cue with his smile, he felt fingers poke at his dimples.

"What's your dream, Joonie?"

Unconsciously, though he had pulled her closer between his legs, she had naturally followed. Their proximity, comfortable and now of second-nature, even as their noses brushed. Even more so as she cocked her head to the side. The action just as benign as her hip slightly grazing his knee. All before his fingers gently guided her back to her initial position. Her breath lingering on his skin as he slightly leaned forward.

Slowly, his eyes fluttered open to the one piece that always added color to his dull machinations.

More importantly, the one piece that always brought back his fear of uncertainty.

"My sister doesn't stare back."

After all, the moment Namjoon allowed his dreams to take over his rational thoughts; the very moment he ever allowed himself to believe in something as fickle as fate; the one moment he allowed himself to believe that nothing could be more perfect than this moment between them; she flickered out of his grasp.

Ding.

His mouth more than dry, he could only wordlessly look over to Mijin's phone. A familiar caller ID bringing a smile to her lips as she leaned forward to grab her phone. All before comfortably snaking out of Namjoon's grasp and back towards her stove.

"Does he text you often?"

Her attention focused on nothing but the heat of her water and her screen, much to Namjoon's dismay.

"Mimi," he still tried as her fingers expertly slid across her screen. "Does Seokjin hyung text you often?"

"Define 'often'?" She mused as she expertly answered another message and reached for a pasta spoon.

"Enough for you to favor your phone over food."

Technically speaking, Mijin could turn noodles with Minmin's dinosaur spoon.

She sincerely could.

However, from the blush on her cheeks, they both knew how tedious and dangerous that would be. Clearing , she set her phone down and reached for the proper pasta spoon. Namjoon's light chuckle perfectly matching with her reddening cheeks as she cleared once more.

"Why does he have your number?" Namjoon casually asked as he reached for his assignment.

"He asked," Mijin shrugged before turning back to the kitchen island. "And how do you know, I quote, 'Seokjin Hyung'?"

"I did eat lunch with all of you," he noted before chuckling at her pursed lips. "Just normal stuff, Mimi."

"Does a girl using your phone to end up in his bed count as, I quote once again, 'just normal stuff'?"

Mijin's light squeal wrapped around them as Namjoon threw a discarded noodle pack at her head. At this rate, he was truly never going to finish his assignment. Especially not with Mijin quoting every damn little thing as she pleased. However, over his dead body would he relive his first freshman party and the handsome graduate student who had stolen the supposed love of his drunken life. That was a dark past that he had thought long and buried, until Mijin had literally brought Kim Seokjin right back to him. All for a simple request.

"Does he text you often?"

For none other than Kim Seokjin's best friend.

"I'd sooner answer you if you said 'she'," Mijin mused as she dropped her noodles into her boiling water. "You and I both know that I -"

"Kookie's brother."

Perfectly on cue, Mijin's phone chimed once more.

Though she was no longer in his arms, Namjoon recognized the slight gleam in her eyes as she hopefully looked at her screen. All before it simmered down to her usual smile as she looked away. Her gaze settling back on her noodles and away from Namjoon's question. Still, despite his better judgement, he couldn't silently watch her move over to the sink. He needed an answer. Anything but her silent silhouette blatantly ignoring him.

"Does your silence mean that he doesn't?" Namjoon rambled on as hope dripped from his words. "What about you? The phone works both ways. You could send a message and -"

"And say what?"

Her voice had been a soft whisper.

"Hi."

"Then what?"

Still, Namjoon had heard her.

"How are you?"

"Then what?"

He had heard her from the slight bite of her lower lip to her tinted cheeks.

"The weather's great."

So much so that he couldn't help but slowly get to his feet. His words pulsing forward with his every step.

"The weather's good, nice, bad. Use your words, I don't know," He sighed as he stopped right behind her. "You know him, I don't -"

"That's the thing," she cut him as she shook her head. "I don't know him. Then, I feel as though I do but I really don't."

"Mijin," he whispered as he let his hands wrap around her shoulders.

"I should draw him and forget him."

Namjoon's answer lay on the tip of his tongue.

However, it never left his lips as he finally looked down into her eyes. It never left his lips as he met a gaze he had seldom seen from his best friend. Indeed, guarded by everything and nothing but her art, she always knew when and how to draw the line. Literally. No matter how harsh. She never let such emotions shine through. She always kept them buried deep down because there was something terribly foreign and uncomfortable about them.

"Is this about your project again?" He sighed as he cupped her cheeks. "Then just do as you always do and -"

"I drew him."

Something ever so sweet and confusing blurring the lines of all she knew.

"A quick sketch from memory but I did," she nodded as his finger slightly brushed her cheek. "It was bad. How could I draw something that bad after my near-perfect sketch of Jimin?"

"Then draw him again," Namjoon slightly chuckled as he pinched her pout away. "Ask him to pose for you and draw him to your heart's content."

"I can't."

She could.

She definitely could.

Namjoon could feel it all the way from the surprise in her eyes to the ease with which they darted to the side. Her fingers hesitantly wiping over her apron; before easily reaching for her damned phone as yet another notification filled the quiet kitchen. However, unlike those blissed occurrences before, the gleam in her eyes never left.

Instead, it seemed to shine brighter as she unlocked her phone.

The most beautiful dumbfounded giggle leaving her lips as she peered closer.

The very name of the person she claimed herself unwilling to draw highlighting her screen.

"No."

So much so that Namjoon could only pull her closer.

"No."

Her breath hitching as they stood chest to chest.

"You can't draw me."

Her hands ever so still as Namjoon's lips softly brushed the corner of her lips.

"What are you -," she started but her words finished in a gasp as her elbow hit the tap behind her. "Namjoon."

"I am the one you can't draw, Mijin Brown," he whispered against the nape of her neck. "Never forget that."

The first time, unable to draw a boy, she had latched onto their easy rapport and concluded it to be friendship. Namjoon had let her because there was nothing more futile than his feelings in the face of their innocent and beautiful bond. Her smile had and would always be enough for him to give up his own happiness.

The second time, now more than able to draw a boy, she was running away from a conclusion. All because, for the second time in her life, she wanted to know why she needed to draw. However, as always, Namjoon knew her better than she knew herself. This time, he wouldn't let her run away.

He wouldn't simply stare.

Not when she blushed at a mere notification from a stranger.

"So, focus on me and only me, until you can."

For the first time, they disregarded the comfort held in their embrace. There was no longer anything normal about the tangible tension between them. There was no longer anything insignificant about the ease with which Namjoon's hands found the small of her back. The sound of running water clouding over Namjoon's thundering heartbeat as they simply stood chest to chest.

Bare and vulnerable.

"Please, Mimi."

Gazes holding.

Breaths intertwining.

"Please."

However, lips never met. 

---->

Hello, hello ^^ Feelings are lingering everywhere in the Brown household. Who will catch them?

Until next time, do read, read and do comment <3! Ciaociaoxx

Fun fact: This chapter was actually written months ago. On bits and pieces of napkins. Yes, I struggled big time to read through coffee stains and blotched ink, lol