A/N: in celebration of the new school year starting and all that other , here is a new chapter. also just saw byrson tiller live and he is the litest, i was thinking a lot about his preformance and his personality when writing this

Kim Namjoon

Yoomi was going to be angry. Time in the studio seemed to play past me, thirty minutes turned into three hours. I swore loudly as I struggle with the tiny key to our apartment, hoping that she still wasn't awake. Hoping she hadn't kept herself up for me. My beautiful, caring girlfriend. Coming home to her was something that I looked forward to all day, why had it slipped my mind?

Opening the door as quietly as possible, I stepped into our dimly lit apartment. She'd turned off the main lights, the only thing that illuminated the room was a tiny lamp in the corner of our living space angled up at the ceiling that exposed all the dust particles in the air.

Spotting her immediately propped against a pile of pillows and bedding on the floor. She wore an old hoodie of mine and a pair of leggings, her hair was down and lay around her like an inky waterfall. Her notebook lay in her lap, a black pen rested beside the paints and small jars of water. A smile automatically appeared on her face as I watched shoulders rise and fall with her even breath. I noticed a small tent over something on the dining room table and lifting it, discovered a pan of fried rice that made my stomach growl. Two untouched spoons lay beside it and my jaw clenched.

She had waited for me.

I padded up to her, taking the sketch pad from her arms and moved all her paints a safe distance away before I knelt down and tried to gently wake her up. “Yoomi-ah,” I whispered, pushing hair out of her face and digging my fingers into her scalp. “Baby, wake up, you should eat.”

One gorgeous eye opened slowly and as she struggled to keep it open.

“Namjoon-ah,” she muttered, yawning adorably as she snuggled forward into my neck. “Did you just get home? I left food for you on the coffee table.” She hums against my skin and I exhale a laugh, dropping a kiss on the crown of her head.

“I'm sorry I'm late, let's eat together sweetheart,” I pull away from her and watch as her other eye finally opens.

“Okay,” she murmurs, pushing past me to crawl over to the table. “Could you grab the water from the fridge, please?” My cheeks hurt from smiling so much as my heart swelled. When she was sleepy, she was incredibly complacent, content with mewling around in my lap for hours while I tried to get work done at home.

“I've got it,” I say, getting up and moving to our small fridge. I open it, my eyes widening when I find that it's fairly stalked with food.

“And the kimchi too,” she says, pulling the small tent off the coffee table.

“Did you grocery shopping today?” I ask, grabbing a water bottle and kimchi container.

“Oh yeah, you'll never believe what happened at work today,” Yoomi said, her voice still thick with sleep as I moved to sit on the other side of the coffee table, pulling her feet into my lap and over my thigh. “This woman came in an recognized me and my work. Get this, she the CEO of a textiles business, she wants me to work for her in design.”

My spoon freezes on the way to the pan, a smile exploding on my face. “That's incredible, baby.” I set utensil down into the pan and reach for her hand. “Congratulations, when do you start working?”

Yoomi's smile fades as her gaze falls from mine. “I don't think I'm going to.”

My brows furrow. “Why?”

“The money isn't as good for not having enough hours,” Yoomi tells me, “I'd just be an intern, pay would be .” My heart falls.

“Baby, don't you dare reject this job,” I say firmly. “Art is something that you really enjoy, doing art as your job is something that you've wanted to do since high school.”

“You've wanted to do music since elementary school,” Yoomi tells me with a smile. “One dream at a time. Besides, there's no guarantee that I would get the job anyways.” I want to say more but I can tell that she's falling asleep so I just insist that she finish eating.

She's taking her last sip of water before she gets up and announces that she's going to go wash up and stumbles to our bathroom. Chuckling affectionately as I watch her almost hit the door, I pick up the empty dishes and set them in our sink. Finding a slim piece of a paper on the ground, I reach down to pick up a business card, my eyes scanning over the words.

This job could change her life, she had to see that. She could always be tied down by her loser boyfriend.

“Let's go to bed,” she calls from our bedroom and I murmur back in agreement, setting the card down carefully on the counter where I knew she would find it before slipping into our bedroom. Closing the door behind me, I watch in amusement as Yoomi struggles with making her way across our bed to where the comforter ends.

“Hurry,” she turns back to me, her eyes already shut. “It's cold.”

I move to my side of the bed, finger hands wrapping around her waist to her get over the mounds of blankets and pillows. Reaching down, she grabs the hem of my hoodie and pulled it over her head, leaving her in just a sports bra. She mutely tosses it onto the bed before slipping under the covers.

Yoomi had the