Books…wether dusty, picturesque, fictional prose, or poetic, they were your mutual pastime. Light would filter through the curtains and hit the pages of your current art history manual as Namjoon stepped quietly into your shared spot. The door creaked shut, and the blond sauntered over to find a spot on the bench, next to you.

Not many words were usually shared around this time – it was a moment of silent appreciation. After caressing your cheek as softly as he would the pages of his favourite piece of literature, he resumed his own book. A rather complex one, might you add. You’d often turn to him and ask about the definition of longer words. He’d tease you a little, but not before spreading the sweetest, brightest grin he could offer.

If it wasn’t for the book in your lap, you would have no problem losing yourself in his eyes, crinkling delightfully and reminding you how lucky you truly were.