The studio was his sacred space. It was the one place that you had never been permitted entrance to, a fact that didn’t hurt you. You knew how personal that kind of a space was. Hell you hadn’t let him into your studio until last week and involved multiple panic attacks on your part. But you’d done it. You’d brought the love of your life into your inner sanctum.

 

 

He’d stood in the middle of the studio in awe, turning and taking in every single piece of artwork, completed or not, asking you questions about the pieces and your process. He’d quickly apologised, saying he didn’t mean to pry just that he was so interested in how your creative process worked. You’d told him parts of it but definitely kept certain aspects of it to yourself. After all, art, was incredibly personal. Any kind of creative outlet was, just like his music. Which is why when he’d called tonight, asking if you would drop by the studio, you’d been too surprised to answer.

 

 

“Babe?” His voice sounded through the speaker, unsure if you were still there.

 

 

“Hmm? Sorry. Yes. Yes I can do that, if you’re ok with it.”

 

 

He chuckled. “I wouldn’t offer it if I wasn’t.”

 

 

You were nervous. He was nervous. It was weird. You’d arrived and it had been fine. He’d welcomed you warmly, hugging you tight & placing a soft kiss on your lips before taking you by the hand and guiding you through the building, up to his studio. He’d happily given you the little tour, telling you about the various pieces in the room, the walnut table he’d gotten in Japan, the figurines he collected any why he liked them, then the various pieces of equipment he used for song writing and recording.

 

 

It was fascinating and you asked lots of questions, enthralled by how excited he seemed to show all of this to you. But then he got nervous.

 

 

Now you were sitting on the couch and he was in his chair. Neither of you were speaking, you weren’t sure if you were supposed to break the silence. It was awkward enough that when Yoongi popped in to ask Joon his opinion on a file, he looked around suspiciously, tilting his head at you, you shrugged at him and he rolled his eyes in Namjoon’s direction.

 

 

“Alright dude. Send me the adjustments we just made. I’m gonna leave now and you’re gonna fix whatever this weird ing tension is in here.” He flicked Namjoon’s temple. “Stop being weird. You’re making me uncomfortable and I’ve lived with you for three thousand, six hundred and fifty days.”

 

 

You giggled at Yoongi’s statement as Namjoon rubbed his temple, looking exasperated with his hyung. “Knowing how many days we’ve lived together is weird dude.”

 

 

Yoongi feigns disgust. “And here I was thinking you were the sentimental one. My feelings are hurt Namjoon.” He stands and moves to leave, pausing by the door. “Make out or something. That’s gotta help right?” Then he was gone.

 

 

Namjoon coughed to break the silence that had resumed. “Uh, ignore him. He’s… well he’s Yoongi.”

 

 

“It’s fine Joonie.” You smile. “Are you awkward because I’m here?”

 

 

He thinks for a moment, trying to find the right words to say. “Not because you’re here. I’m glad that I finally showed you my studio. It and you are both incredibly important to me. It’s more, I’m not used to just hanging out in here, not working.”

 

 

You nod. “That makes sense.” Of course it would be weird to have someone in your space that was not there to create with you. It would almost feel like an intruder, you thought. “How about you play some music so it isn’t so quiet in here? We’re both a little too good at getting in our own heads and the silence is not helping that.”

 

 

He laughs. “Good idea.” He pushes his chair back to the laptop on the desk and clicks around until he finds some music to play. It’s soft and delicate music, easing the tension in the room more than you had hoped. You relax back into the couch, closing your eyes as you listen to the song’s dips and peaks, the soothing voice lilting with emotion.

 

 

“It’s good right?” Your boyfriend’s voice soft and closer than it was before.

 

 

You open your eyes to see him on the couch next to you, his warm eyes watching you. “Soothing, healing in a way. You can feel the emotion in her voice. It’s a great song.”

 

 

He smiles. “I think it’s a great album but I’m a little biased because I helped create it. Each and every song has its own colour and you follow the shift between them as the album progresses. That song was part of the green section. It’s a really interesting concept, creating songs to follow the colour spectrum. It interprets the colour spectrum through music.”

 

 

You stare at him as he gets lost talking about the music and the concept. You love it when he does this, gets so passionate about something he loves that he rambles, telling you everything about it until he’s run out of words. It’s endearing really, and one of the many things that drew you to him.

 

 

“So it is a series of mini albums that collectively form the colour spectrum, black, red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet & white. Anything we think of, we can do. Humanity’s idea of colors is too broad. This needs to be more personal, because ideas of colors vary from person to person. Even for people who have synesthesia, the specific images or sounds they hear attached to colors vary from person to person. And that just reinforced the point of doing the project, to produce our interpretation of color, the way we feel about colors or are inspired by the colors – how we hear them or see them.”

 

 

He keeps talking, oblivious to how you’re staring at him with adoration, leaning closer to him as he speaks. You place a finger on his mouth, startling him back to the present, rendering him speechless. He stares back at you, your face, eyes and lips. You watch him, watch how his gaze falls upon your lips and you smile. Your eyes trace his features, his strong jaw, adorable dimples, observant eyes and finally, his full lips. Suddenly you feel a need to kiss him.

 

 

He must feel it too because before either of you realize its happening you both lean into each other, closing the distance that separates you, your mouths meeting passionately. Gone is the awkward tension and nerves. You kiss each other with fervor, like you need the other to survive.

 

 

You’re both so lost in each other that you don’t hear Yoongi come back into the studio. “Dude you haven’t sent the files back y- don’t you dare on that couch. I sleep on it!” His scandalized voice breaks you apart, both of you laughing at how offended he is by the two of you kissing in Namjoon’s studio.

 

 

“Hyung.” Namjoon says.

 

 

“Not the chair either.” Yoongi continues.

 

 

“I will have on every surface in here if it will stop you interrupting us tonight. Yoongi we’re on a date.”