2.6

“What is this, Namjoon?”

Miss Choi glanced at him from behind her glasses, forehead frowned as her expression denoted a great confusion. Namjoon, for a moment, felt a sense of obscure satisfaction in observing the effect that the words written by him had on her, even more so considering how much she had been bugging him non stop to hurry up, only to obtain results she certainly hadn't expected in return. Part of him knew very well that she was not the cause of his frustrations, however, unfortunately for her, Miss Choi was also the only person whom he could get back at. He could not rebel against the Kims, as well as he couldn't shout his irritation at Jin. His fists tightened along his sides.

"What you asked me to do Miss," he answered with an uninterested tone. Why the consul Kim had insisted for Namjoon to write an essay over the algorithm was something that went beyond his comprehension. He was the last person on earth who could enthusiastically promote the current system, yet he had been asked to express his opinion on the material made available to him. Namjoon had done so, he had read every single page of those documents, boring reports on the century two and the soulmate legislation, and although the subject was not even his own field, considering that the law student was not him but Jin, he had, in spite of it all, noticed a few things.

For example how in the last decade the amendments to the soulmate statute had become more frequent and more specific, as the control had seemingly tightened. There were many references to the requirement of censuses and demographic studies as well as various modifications to the so-called algorithm parameter (of which Namjoon did not find any specifications even though the word had recurred in several documents).

"So if we assume that the algorithm is as perfect as the scholar narrative has so wisely expressed, the undeniable imperfections that the system still suffers from have to be attributed to the organ of control, which is made by people, and not to the system itself. I suggest a more in-depth investigation and a closer scrutiny of the object to detect the anomaly." Miss Choi read aloud with increasing disbelief as she scanned the words. Namjoon tried to stay still and unaffected as the young woman in front of him shook her head.

How had he said it before? Dark sense of satisfaction that, unfortunately, was just an atom of relief in a sea of tumultuous rage.

"Are these your conclusions? Do you realize that this essay will be read personally by the consul Kim?"

Yes, this was exactly what I had in mind while writing it , Namjoon found himself thinking, but while he felt rather emboldened by his subcutaneous state of irritation, he was smart enough to know that he wouldn't obtain anything with sarcasm, considering Miss Choi wasn't the one whom he wanted to talk to. Honestly, he had wanted to express his opinion in hope of succeeding at ruining the day for Mr. Kim – oh if he would have loved to have this certainty – but he didn't want to drown in his frustration by behaving like a brat.

Namjoon was so many things, naive, awkward and terribly clumsy, to use the most suitable adjectives, but his rationality required him to keep a certain attitude, he didn't want to lose to that house, the Kims, and give them the satisfaction of seeing him collapse. However, he couldn't help but squirm at the thought that the existence of such thoughts meant that the habit of hiding his real feelings had ingrained into his behavior, and that represented a significant defeat because it meant that the obscure mechanisms of that house, made up of secrets and manipulations, had carved his heart.

That's why, instead of saying all that passed through his mind, he just nodded.

"And you still found it appropriate?"

Namjoon shrugged as Miss Choi took off her glasses and tried not to sigh. For a brief moment, Namjoon felt bad for her, then he remembered how the extra workload had forced him to stay home and not meet Yoongi and the feeling evaporated into thin air.

"Very well, that's all then. See you next week, Namjoon."

"Is that all?" he asked, trying to not let his disbelief show on his face.  

He had expected a more energetic reaction, an explosion or something of the sort. He needed an explosion because that little glimmer was not at all enough to soothe the magma that was crawling inside of him.

"I guess that if there's anything else, you'll know directly from the consul Kim," she added in a dismissing tone, and Namjoon took the blow, knuckles that were almost white for the pressure as he stormed out of the room with rigid shoulders.

He went out into the corridor, the satisfaction he had anticipated when he had come in now just a mirage. He had been feeling like this for days, as if he was slowly sinking into a tub and he was too weak to get out. His days had become impossible, he didn't have a moment for himself and all his time was spent for Kim’s matters and the university, when his fingers were dying to take a pen and a notebook to write (he was feeling nostalgic towards paper) and let thoughts become rhythm, while, instead, he was tossed around from one place to the other without a halt, with the horrible impression that all this was just the beginning.

But it was not even the worst thing of it all, Namjoon found himself thinking in spite of it. He shook his head but immediately regretted the movement. He decided to go to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water so that he could take a painkiller for his headache, which had recently become his new but old close friend once again. The kitchen was being cleared and made impeccable by the mansion's own industrious staff. By now Namjoon had familiarized enough with the routine of the house that the staff did not interrupt their activities whenever they spotted him anymore.

The kitchen was, and not just in the narrow sense of the term, the least cold place in the whole Kim villa. There were more voices and people who actually communicated with each other instead of putting walls and accumulating unsaid things as if they were a hobby, or maybe it was special simply because Namjoon knew it was Jin's favorite spot. In fact, although he wasn't a good eater like the older and therefore had no real reasons to go to the kitchen often, when he happened to go there he was sure to find Jin, sitting in a corner of the long marble shelf. It was for this reason that, in fact, he had frequented the place recently, but he had never found Seokjin, as if the latter had done so to avoid to be found easily. It was irritating, but even so, it was more mortifying watching Seokjin step away from him the moment Namjoon had surrendered to his soulmate bond.

That was why when he entered the kitchen to take his glass of water and found Jin seated at what he had learned to refer in his head as Seokjin's place, Namjoon almost stumbled on his own feet. It felt like it had been a while since it was just them and yet didn't he share the car with the older when he returned from university the day before? Hadn't Seokjin sported his usual kind smile when he got out of the car fast in order to avoid spending too much time with him?

His eyes were bright as he excitedly ate a piece of cake with frost of that morning, devouring like it was his favorite or so Namjoon deduced. Seokjin seemed surprised to see him but didn't make any obvious reaction, continuing to eat as he watched Namjoon go to the fridge and take a bottle of water. His muscles suddenly felt like jelly but he tried not to show his discomfort while pouring water into the glass and swallowing the pill down.

Without being able to avoid it, his gaze returned to Seokjin. He almost jumped when he realized that the latter hadn't taken his eyes off him and was looking at him in a strange way.

"This cake is my favorite," Seokjin said all of a sudden as he brought the fork to his mouth and enjoyed the food as if there was nothing better in the world.

How did you know I was out? For how long have you known that I've been sneaking out? Why it looks like you suddenly have nothing to tell me when you used to be the one to jump over our wall each time, and what secret are you hiding from me with the same resolution I'm using to hide mine?

Namjoon blinked as all these questions followed one after the other in his head, his lips remaining sealed unable to voice them out.

"Seokjin ..." he tried to start but his words died in his throat when Seokjin shifted his attention again from his cake on him. Namjoon looked at the clock on the kitchen wall then looked back at Jin. They didn't have time for this, not there, not in that moment, and so he shook his head then, regretting it as soon as an unpleasant feeling hit him again.

"Namjoon?" Seokjin's expression suddenly darkened by a veil of concern. Namjoon thought he didn't really have the right to worry when he was practically acting as if he didn't exist. Yet he was Seokjin, kind and perfect Seokjin, who despite being elusive, pretended to worry about him.

"Nothing, let's talk about it some other time. I'll wait for you in the car, "he said, turning in a hurry but not enough to not see Seokjin's expression crumble for a very short moment. He almost ran away from the kitchen, seriously risking to bump into the door frame.

What was happening to all of them? He wondered as he crossed the corridors and then ran down to his room where he allowed himself to breathe again.

It was that house, that house was slowly ruining everyone.

After the episode in the kitchen, the car journey was full of tension. Seokjin had tried to fix it, his fingers touching his arm in an affectionate gesture, but he had jolted so much that the older had lowered his hand and Namjoon didn't have to look at him to know he had a wounded expression.

The days that followed had been unbearably heavy. On the outside, they kept interacting normally, as Seokjin timidly tried to mend their wounds, but more than affection there was the sense of guilt that loomed on the older and Namjoon found it unbearable. Yet he couldn't escape the ascendant that Seokjin had on him, this new feeling that seemed to have been born since he had kissed him in the garden.

The studies on the algorithm had given him some explanation of the great question that had been tormenting him forever, that is what really entailed the attraction between numbers two. Of course, the only way to understand how the soul mate mechanism worked would be to go directly to the source, the big computer that somewhere in some secret government basement emitted its combinations as unmistakable verdicts, but he knew very well that the hopes of getting his hand on that were almost impossible.

The numbers two were the people who by birth had the highest level of compatibility possible with their designed partner, it was scientific, it was mapped within their DNA, it was inside of him, tattooed within the fiber of his being. If it was true that love once was a fortuitous encounter that gave a chemical reaction, it was also true that between the numbers two, instead, love was a predetermined encounter for an explosion. He had always known, it was what everyone said, yet reading the scientific refutation made it more real, the bond more irresistible, and he and Seokjin were gravitating toward each other, in their case getting hurt in doing so because of their respective walls.

The situation, therefore, didn't improve, especially when a few days later during a dinner in which the whole family was present and that it would have made him ring an alarm bell in his head, both he and Seokjin were informed of a new event that would require their presence.

The two exchanged an embarrassed look through the table in the dining room, metabolizing the fact that after spending days pretending, suddenly they were forced to act like the pair of soulmates they weren't. And it had to be done in one of those horrible events in which everyone's eyes would control their every move in search of a whirlwind, a flaw in the perfect couple.

Was it a punishment for the report he had delivered? Mr. Kim was aware of his rejection for such occasions to the point of forcing him so soon into another? Namjoon stabbed the potato with violence as if it were the fault of the food. It couldn't be, it was just that his mind was able to elaborate a thousand theories with which to torture himself each one more ridiculous than the other. The words the consul said, in fact, completely refuted this foolish supposition (and turned into a glowing magma what was once only a fiery flame of anger).

"Namjoon by the way, I read your report. You did a great job," said Mr. Kim, and he had to keep himself from falling out of the chair for the shock.

He had spit on the management of the algorithm in hope of irritating everyone (no matter if he thought he was right, the purpose at the end was that) and now he was being complimented instead.

"Thank you, sir," Namjoon replied mechanically trying to sound polite, and Seokjin's father nodded in approval as though he were deaf to the cold tone of Namjoon, or as if he didn't care. He tried to avoid meeting the eyes of his soulmate, though he felt them on him. It would have been better if Seokjin ignored him completely and instead, despite the silence and the distance, he knew that the older hadn't stop watching his back and that was what frustrated him the most.

Namjoon excused himself as soon as the dinner ended, the fire inside almost threatening to explode in the surface, too much to bear if he kept having the Kims in front of him. That house was too big,  ten families could be living comfortably, yet he felt suffocating between those walls. He had to go out, take some air maybe go to the club, no matter if he had nothing to sing because the pages of his notebooks were empty of words, the important thing was to get out of that house. He didn't waste time then, didn't even wait until later, he took his wallet, his cell phone and put on a jacket while looking for his magnetic key to the door.

"Namjoon," Seokjin's voice came from behind him, immobilizing him on the spot. Namjoon turned slightly, trying to dominate a shiver. Seokjin was standing on the doorframe of his room, brown eyes on him, and Namjoon couldn't help but notice how his fingers tightened on the frame. It would have been a good time to talk, it really seemed like a good time to do that, Seokjin had just to ask where he was going in order to open that door so that Namjoon could have the opportunity to ask his questions in turn.

Despite everything he felt, anger, irritation, disdain, sadness, he really wanted to try to embrace this person. No, maybe for once he wanted to be embraced and getting told that everything would be okay.

"Don't be late," were the words that left the older's lips instead. Namjoon almost snorted. Why did Seokjin once again let their opportunity slip through his fingers but still keep looking at him with such a palpable affection that hurt?

Namjoon didn't say anything then, because he couldn't bring himself to talk, so he turned around and opened his window, then crossed the windowsill without looking back.

The fresh air of the night didn't clear his mind but only managed to freeze his limbs as he walked to the usual bus stop. He knew he was acting more carelessly than usual, it was still early and there was still staff working around in the villa and there were definitely more chances than usual for someone to discover him, yet he almost wanted to the security staff in agitation.

The urge to go back to his family home was strong, but he knew he couldn't do it because he could not go back to his mother and pour out all of his personal anguish: he was an adult even though he wasn't technically one and some things couldn't just be helped. So he went to the center to mix himself in the crowd and forget the irony of his fate, the dichotomy between what he should have been and what he was, the number two without his one. One lost number one.

Finally he dragged himself to the old pub, even though Yoongi wasn't there and neither one of the other artists that night, but it was the only place that reminded gave him a good feeling and that made him feel safe. He sat in a corner of the pub to drink a glass of water because even though the owner closed an eye on his age during the performances, no one would give him something alcoholic to drink without Yoongi. So there he was, alone with a glass of water, the phone forgotten on the table as time passed.

He was pathetic, he couldn't even really rebel, he thought as he stared at his glass of water and unread messages on the phone screen. He got back after midnight without any unforeseen difficulty, his room window slightly open instead of being wide open, a sign that Seokjin had arranged to put things in place but didn't cut his way back. Namjoon slid in exhausted like after a gig, and after changing in to his pajama, he went straight to bed. It was then that as he sank his nose into the pillow, he felt something different, that mixture of cologne and coffee that was typical of the perfume of his soulmate.

"Sorry for falling asleep here, I just didn't know if someone would come up to check on you, but I thought that if they had known I was here they wouldn't come, so I stayed," Seokjin had probably hid in there for a long time, enough for everyone to think the two of them were together and didn't think to go disturb them. Namjoon groaned in the pillow. Even when he was acting cold, the older seemed to think of him always, always, always.

"I'm starting to dislike Seokjin," Yoongi said on the phone. Namjoon sighed as he battled out with the cufflinks of his shirt, the cell phone squeezed between his shoulder and his cheek.

"It's complicated Yoongi, I'm starting to think that this soulmate thing is more complicated than it sounds. At least for me and you, "Yoongi snorted loudly and Namjoon almost could imagine him rolling his eyes.

"Complicated? Yes, I know something about complicated, "Yoongi said sarcastically. "But Namjoon," continued the other, "sooner or later you will have to let it all out. If there is one thing I learned from my situation is that truth can not be hidden, no matter how much you try." Namjoon nearly dropped the phone. Yeah, if there was someone who knew something about the disaster of certain secrets it was Yoongi, but what could he do, how could he open up with someone who behaved so confusedly? Everyone has their own secrets, Seokjin said. Namjoon knew that he was not the only one to have something that was holding him back, Jin's behavior had been confusing for a long time but his behavior was reaching an escalation that was making the situation almost unbearable.

Perhaps the time it had really come the time to say everything, but he would think about it later, firstly he had to survive that damn event.

"I know, I just keep asking myself if in the end the truth will do us good or it will end up destroying what is left of us," Namjoon confessed, finally succeeding with the cufflinks into the slot and grabbing the phone properly. A deep silence followed his words and Namjoon felt his breath got caught in his throat.

"it's a possibility. I am the last person that can give you advises and I can't definitely promise that it will get better because there's a decent chance that it won't go well. But at least once you'll put the cards on the table, you will know. Do it before it's too late. "

His best friend told him in the receiver.

"I'll try,” Namjoon mumbled out thinking about how things could turn into a mess just by keeping silence. Afterall Yoongi knew what it meant to let things fall down so low to the point of no returning and hurt what he wanted to protect. “Now I have to go, hyung."

"Ok, take care," and with that words, he hung up. For a moment Namjoon stayed still, lost in his thoughts, the truth of his friend's words buzzing in his head. He shook his head though and resigned he left the cell phone on the desk and then took the jacket out of his wardrobe and stuffed himself inside, expensive clothes sliding on him like a glove. Namjoon wondered if he would ever get used to all this, if it would ever stop looking strange to him and if at some point he would stop feeling like a penguin forced into a suit and inside a bathtub full of sharks. He passed the necktie around his neck as he went to the mirror to see how to lace it. He had become pretty good even if he had not yet reached Seokjin's expertise, the perfect way in which his fingers tied the knot.

Once he was ready he left his room and went to the living room to wait for the rest of the family to be ready. Seokjin came to him shortly afterward, and Namjoon could not suppress an admiring glance when his eyes land onto his soulmate and saw the face of the older open in his usual warm smile. For a moment it was as if those weeks of void were just his imagination.

Seokjin quickly covered the distance separating them.

"I knew pearly gray would have suited you," Seokjin said as he brushed Namjoon's shoulders with his hands. His fingers then moved on his tie, fingers clamping on the collar of his shirt and tapping on the knot.

"You've learned," the older whispered. Namjoon avoided telling him that it took him five minutes to succeed him something stupid to say when he had Seokjin so close as he was for weeks.

"Thank you," Namjoon said, but as the gaze of the older turned dark, he realized that the other person understood that he was referring to something else.

Seokjin's mask of blankness disappeared and for a moment Namjoon was certain that the other man would have said something but his lips tightened as his hand slipped along Namjoon's arm to gently seal on his wrist. Perhaps they had never been so close like they were in that moment before, so devoid of their own masks, even though they weren't saying anything, both recognizing the truth of the chaos that was their situation.

"You are here," Seokjin's mother interrupted them, her glacial stare that warmed up in one of her rare smiles. Seokjin blinked and turned towards her and Namjoon knew that the moment was over, the moment of truth had fled, but with great relief of the younger Seokjin didn't let go. Perhaps it was only the need to save the appearance or the force of habit, he wasn't sure, and yet whatever it was, after so much anger and irritation, Namjoon was glad to have Seokjin near him.

Mrs. Kim told them that it was decided that the two of them would have preceded the rest of the family at the event, so they could enjoy the spotlight as family representatives, an intelligent way to make them used to the role in view of the future. Namjoon believed it wouldn't happen very soon considering the obvious attachment to the chair that Mr. Kim seemed to have, but it was true though that they had planned for them to actively engage in politics once both of them had graduated and so when the time would come both were going to be not only ready, but perfect.

They remained closed even in the car, but it was as if they had decided to bury whatever strange things had happened between them those weeks to act united, as for a tacit agreement. Namjoon had mixed feelings because it was not as if his irritation had evaporated, it was still there glowing, but like all the things about Jin, it wasn't something simple, his heart had enough space to experience a great variety of feelings, so he could feel relief when the other clung to his arm when they got out of the car, and he could feel irritation towards the other unfavorable attitude. Namjoon wanted his Jin back, no matter how much this phrase sounded ridiculous considering that he had practically rejected him from the beginning, but in the midst of all the horrible feeling he felt, he wanted for once to be able to rely on his soul mate.

That environment suffocated Namjoon, and it didn't help that the second Consul Park was among the guests, who unfortunately hadn't miss the chance to intercept them. He and Seokjin were forced to greet him of course and the consul immediately attacked them.

"I read your essay about the sociological dynamics about zeroes and twos. It was so enlightening. And let’s not talk about your observations about the algorithm of world two. You have a brilliant future ahead of you Kim Namjoon. Actually, I can’t think who got luckier if you to inherit the Kim name or the Kims to have someone like you. That sure was bloody struck of luck! "

He didn't know how his stupid assay had gone through the parliament representatives but one thing for sure it was that the second consul had read it. He had the unpleasant feeling he was under the scrutiny of a lot of people.

But his words didn't only affect him but also Seokjin, who stiffened by his side. The older, Namjoon knew now, was good at keeping his feelings tamed and the younger knew him enough to recognize the pain when he saw it. And despite their mutual shortcomings and their mutual wounds, Namjoon learned something then that no one had the right to upset Seokjin in any way, even with just words, except him. It was a new feeling but no less real, and when he looked at the consul Park in the eyes he knew his irritation had found a new goal.

"If I can say consul Park, Seokjin is amazing himself. It’s not only about me. They could say I’m biased because he’s my number one. But honestly, I never found someone more a good man than Kim Seokjin. I admire him a lot," Namjoon said. Seokjin with his secrets and with his irritating distance, the cause for which Namjoon was unwillingly dragged into that cold house, and yet even if it was like that Seokjin was still his cause, however, and he alone had the right to hold it against him if anything but no one else. He kept up his manners anyway, while he dismissed both of them from the consul Park but he did it only for Seokjin, the flame of his feelings burning so hot that it was threatening to burst. Namjoon had to muffle a laugh, it was so unnatural for him not to be in control and let the emotions have the best of him.

He didn't realize he had dragged Jin to the table where his cousin Hyosang was sitting who gave them a sympathetic smile.

Namjoon had never known how to frame Hyosang. It was true that he knew him very little and had always been kind and affable with him, but he was with everyone in general. However, he was the person Seokjin cared for the most, perhaps the only one Seokjin in the whole Kim family, and thus he couldn't help his curiosity. Considering also that Hyosang always looked at him with a look of someone who was two steps ahead.

"I guess the second consul is nice as always. You have to forgive him Jinnie. He wants to be promoted to the first position since forever but with us Kims being there for three generations is going to take him a miracle to achieve that," Hyosang said gleefully glancing at them. Namjoon was holding a laugh, but Seokjin looked tired.

Then the older said something that struck Namjoon and left him again with many things to think about.

"I just. Sometimes I wish people would see us as an actual person, not just a Kim. It’s exhausting."

Ever since they met, Seokjin had often shown his most vulnerable side. However, if there was one thing that those weeks had demonstrated, it was that behind the natural kindness of Seokjin's character, he hid a sea of unexplored feelings that the older seemed to keep jealously away from the looks of the others. More than the affectionate smiles of Jin that alone had been enough to question his own skepticism, it was knowing that somewhere there was a Jin that was similar to Namjoon and that made him feel irretrievably attracted to the older. They called it soulmate bond but maybe it was just the unison singing of two lonely souls that had been found each other.

Namjoon then grabbed Seokjin's hand and squeezed and it was as if they had touched for the first time in weeks.

"I understand you, but we are what we are. At least we have our soulmates," Hyosang said, and Namjoon felt hotness crept on his face. He looked away from the two and when he stared back to them he saw that a waiter had reached their table with a tray filled with champagne glasses. Namjoon didn't think twice, took a glass in turn, following the example of the others two, as he tried to drink down his embarrassment.

"No alcohol for you, Joonie, you are still ..." came Seokjin's voice just to stop abruptly. The meaning of those words didn't hit him at first, it was as if time had stopped and at that moment he was particularly aware how the pupils of the other dilated, how his perfect lips opened in an astonished expression ad if he couldn't believe what he had just let out. Namjoon felt his hand rest on the table glass still tightened in his grip, body and mind seemingly disconnected, and then somehow his brain was finally struck by what Seokjin had just said.

There were a thousand ways to end that sentence, a thousand words that could be appropriate but only some could cause that reaction in the older.

Seokjin knew.

Panic, pure panic spread throughout his body and for this reason when Seokjin got up from the table murmuring something Namjoon could not grasp, he had remained seated there, frozen for the shock. Then his gaze crossed Hyosang's, and the worried expression of the latter made him realized he also knew.

"Namjoon, go," he heard the other say. It was what finally managed to awaken him from his astonishment.

"Joonie no alcohol for you, you're still," a minor.

He got up quickly from the table and with his pulse racing he stormed out of the room, however, once in the corridor the panic again threatened to blur his mind because he couldn't seize the other anywhere. Think , think. He vaguely remembered that Seokjin had said the word 'air' so he was probably heading toward a terrace because the inner garden was too far away.

Namjoon ran down the corridor looking for a window that opened on a balcony, threatening to burst from his ribcage. Seokjin knew, he knew, but how much did he know?

We all have our secrets, he had said and Namjoon should have understood then, but once again he was too absorbed by himself. They had been lying to each other, they had done anything else but that since the beginning but Namjoon had to find out the reason of it all. He finally saw the window door at the end of the corridor and stepped forward, the night air that hit him in the face.

Seokjin was leaning against the railing, and Namjoon could see only his back but his shoulders were curved and the younger saw the knuckles of his right hand tighten on the iron bar forcefully.

"Seokjin," he saw the older shudder but the latter didn't turn, and although the situation didn't look promising he couldn't pull back.

"Earlier, what were you going to say?" Namjoon asked, clearing his throat.

"Nothing. Forget it. I just needed some fresh air. Maybe I shouldn’t have drunk champagne, I’m a light weight," he said, trying to play light but there was a slight tremble in his tone and he still didn't turn towards him.

"Please Seokjin, let's put an end to these games. Talk to me," Namjoon pushed because the time of the secrets was over, even though he had a tremendous fear and his emotions had never been so not under control. A heavy silence followed and then Seokjin's sincere words broke the quietness of the night

"It's Seokjin hyung for you." He growled, finally turning. Namjoon almost stepped back as he felt the blood leaving his face. Part of him, he had to admit, had longed for Seokjin to drop the mask that the younger had suspected the older had been carrying since the wall had been built between them. But perhaps he had overestimated himself. He had selfishly thought he was the only one suffering, but he was wrong.

The lie, the one weighing so much on his shoulders, was discovered and there was no way to go back now.

"Were you ever going to tell me?”" Seokjin asked sounding unbearably wounded.

Again silence. The truth was a difficult thing to say even in the face of the inevitable.

“You are my soul mate and I’m yours. Of course I think it’s mostly my family fault but why did you have to lie to me?” Seokjin asked.

Namjoon stared at the floor for a long time as he tried to put an order in his head and be able to justify himself if he could. Because he had lied first, but the lie had hurt him as much as Seokjin.

"“Your family asked us not to say anything since I’m smart enough to be in your same class. I’ve started to consider myself older long ago too, that’s why I didn’t protest. They asked and we didn’t think to say no.”"Namjoon paused and then said what he would have liked to say since their first meeting, since the first time he allowed this lie to ruin everything.

"I'm sorry." He closed his eyes.

"You are sorry? I can expect this from my family, they’ve been bullting me with what being a Kim should be since I was three, but not from you! Why you never mentioned it in private?" Why did not you ever think of telling me privately? "Seokjin asked again and Namjoon took the blow as he tightened his fists in frustration because it hadn't been merely his fault. How could Seokjin even think that? The annoyance, the anger, the sense of loss that as a poison had been plaguing him all this time, awaken.

"They asked, and I couldn't say no," Namjoon admitted tightly.

"Why?"

"Because they asked!" Namjoon exclaimed, looking at him in the eyes, finally allowing his feelings to run free. All those days spent to keep them under control and now everything was collapsing like a house of cards.

"Don’t you dare leave this on me because it’s not my fault. You don’t know your family. You don’t know how is my family with them, how the fact that I’m engaged to the Kim heir had affected them. They asked me and I did as they so gently demanded. Was I happy? Of course not! You were nice and every time you treated me like your peer something inside me broke to pieces, but consider my position Seokjin hyung. I didn’t have much of a choice,"Namjoon spat out and it was so great to finally tell the truth, the whole truth.

Seokjin looked taken aback suddenly not so sure anymore. “I know my family can be rather bossy but now you are talking like you did a lot of things they wanted you to do but you rather wouldn’t.”

Namjoon wanted to laugh hysterically, was it really possible for the older too so naive? However despite having a sort of grudge towards the older he didn't want to hurt him either.

"I’m sorry if I lied to you. Now please let’ go inside. Or let’ s go back to the Kim resident if you prefer." Namjoon tried to conclude. The truth was out, there was no need to uncover the rest as well. But Seokjin seemed to sense there was something else and he didn't look like he wanted to let go easily. The older took a few steps toward him, getting closer, so close that they could touch without even having to move a limb. He felt like he couldn't breathe, he felt horribly trapped.

"Namjoon.Why does it feel like you didn’t even want to be here?" He asked in a whisper.

"Seokjin, hyung, let's go," Namjoon pleaded, tried to twist it because it was not necessary to destroy this as well.

"Why," Seokjin insisted again, forcing Namjoon to retreat, and when his back hit the wall he knew he had no way out.

"For once just tell me the truth. I think I deserve to know," the older asked with a firm voice and imposing tone. Something obscure awoke then, and everything he had felt since he had set his foot inside Kim's residency exploded.

"Because I don’t want to be here. "Seokjin's pupils trembled but Namjoon couldn't stop.

"They came to my house, gathered us in the kitchen and gave us this long speech about me being the soul mate of the Kim heir. And my family felt so honored, they were so happy but I couldn’t. I felt the noose around my neck tightening on my throat and all my hopes all my dreams got destroyed. Because I was going to be a Kim too and that would definitively cut out whatever I’ve been fantasizing to do with my life. I was so ing angry, so angry but the Kims were happy, my family was happy so who cared if I wasn’t. Why me, why? I wanted to pursue music but they enrolled me in economics. I was skeptic about the soul mate system, wanting instead a life for myself, but here I was tied to the most desired number two in the country. I was taken away from my house and affections and I could do nothing about it. Then I met you, my soul mate, when all my life I doubted them. But you were nice, you were so kind and even when you ignored that your happiness had cost my dreams, yet I couldn’t hate you but neither I could be happy. So please let’s go home. Let’s forget of this. My feelings in the big picture are not so important."

It was over, everything had been said, and he was anticipating the feeling of relief, he honestly had thought he should feel better and instead he felt as if he had just crushed painfully to the ground, shattered in pieces.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Joonie. I never knew, never, if I could do anything to make it all better ..." Seokjin's voice began to waver and Namjoon lifted his gaze alarmed by the violent tremor of his voice.

"Seokjin!" Namjoon exclaimed alarmed when he saw the other bring his hands to his chest as if he couldn't breathe. He was having a panic attack and it was all his fault, Namjoon threw his hands forward, trying to grab the older, but Seokjin stepped back, expression broken in the end.

"I loved you since the first time I saw you," he said before breaking like a lute, and the only thing Namjoon was able to do was catching a hold of him before his head touched the cold marble.

It was sad that this was the first time he had his soulmate in his arms.