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Nam Joon can’t remember why she ever hated sharing an apartment with Hoseok.

Maybe it had something to do with how Hoseok would bring a different guy or girl home every night and Hoseok wasn’t quiet, especially when someone had their face between her thighs. Even after Nam Joon reminded her that she had organ chemistry this quarter and had Hoseok swear to not bring anyone over during Nam Joon’s late night study sessions, the meet ups continued. Hoseok was also a dancer who spent all day in the practice rooms learning hip hop and c walking but she was a ballerina first so she was flexible, so basically her and her partner would be up until the late hours of the morning testing her stamina and seeing how far backwards she could bend.

(Her foot could hook over her shoulder. What? Nam Joon had to try it out once.)

And when they were done, Hoseok’s partner would try to sneak out early in the morning and walk into a face full of Nam Joon drinking her black coffee and reading the news on her kindle. They would stare at her, she would stare back. Sometimes they would just run out of the apartment, red faced, without saying a word. Others would attempt conversation with Nam Joon until she told them to get the out of her apartment.

Okay, maybe she does remember why she hated being Hoseok’s roommate sometimes.

Hoseok’s ty tendencies were forgiven the day Nam Joon opened the apartment door to a face full of angry Seokjin.

“H-Hi,” Nam Joon stammered.

“Where is she?”

“Where is who?”

Seokjin huffed and stormed past Nam Joon into the leaving room, “You know who, that Hoseok.”

She crossed her arms, shifted her weight onto one leg. Her light brown her was tied up in a ponytail giving Nam Joon a perfect you view of her back, thank the gods that crop tops were in fashion. And then she turned and she had a dragonfly belly button piercing, and slim collar bones, and pouty lips pulled into a frown…

She was glaring.

“So where is she?”

Nam Joon coughed, suddenly aware of the pizza stain on her t-shirt, and the holes on her sweatpants. “Probably in the dance department at the University,” Nam Joon answered, “You are a student right?”

“Yeah, we have Chemistry lab together. Not the point, when does she get back?”

“I don’t know, pretty late. Why are you here?”

“She’s been sending pictures of herself to my boyfriend.”

Nam Joon sighed, godammit Hoseok. She rubbed at her temple, “Are you sure it was her?”

Seokjin pulled out her iphone, decorated in a pink case with a strawberry sticker, cute, and tapped on the screen before handing it to Nam Joon. Yeah, those were Hoseok’s s, that was her piercing on the right . Goddammit Hoseok.

“You saved them onto your phone?” Nam Joon asked with a hint of amusement.

“It’s evidence,” she took her phone back, face flushing slightly, “Didn’t want her to say I was complaining over nothing.”

“Makes sense,” Nam Joon raised an eyebrow appraisingly. Seokjin smiled then returned to her default angry face, which wasn’t that intimidating. Nam Joon bit back a smile, “What’s your boyfriend’s name?” 

“Jin Hyosang, his friends call him Kidoh.”    

Oh. Nam Joon’s eyebrows rose.

“Do you know him?”

Nam Joon remembered Kidoh. She remembered him stumbling out of Hoseok’s room a few weeks ago in the early morning with a neck littered in bruises and his pants still unbuckled. He was one of the chatty ones and left after apologizing - Hoseok hadn’t said anything about having a roommate-  to Nam Joon, bowed at the full 90 degrees. Nam Joon liked him.

But not anymore.

Now that she knows he’s cheating bastard.  

Nam Joon scratched at her neck. “Did you check his sent messages?”

“He wouldn’t cheat on me!”

“Are you sure? Men can be pigs,” Nam Joon replied unsympathetically.

“He wouldn’t cheat on me,” her voice trembled this time, “We’ve been together since high school.”

“Was he faithful then?”

Seokjin shook her head yes, but stopped mid nod, “There was this one girl, she would call him oppa and cling on to his arm between classes. He told me that the she meant nothing but…” She stared at the wall, eyes turning red, “Was Kidoh ever here?” 

“He might have come once…. or twice,” Nam Joon muttered.

Seokin’s eyes began to water, she looked down at the phone in her hands, she half laughed. “You think you know a person,” she half laughed. And then she cried, quietly, small tears down her face. She wiped one away with her sleeve. “And then find that three years didn’t mean to them,” she laughed again, then covered her eyes with her hand. Her sobs shook her body. 

Nam Joon walked over to her and hesitated before she placed a hand on her back, “Calm down, it will be okay.”
She led Seokjin to sit down on the couch, “Sorry about the whole roommate sleeping with your boyfriend thing. But it does take two.”

“I know, I should have known,” Seokjin pulled her hands away, she sniffed, “he was always, I don’t know somewhere else. Like he’d be with me, but he’d be looking off into space, probably think- thinking about some other girl. I thought that was just me being self- conscious, I’d tell myself, Jin you have nothing to worry about, you’re being silly. But I wasn’t.”

Seokjin was crying again. 

Nam Joon awkwardly half petted her head, “There, there. There will be other people. You’ll get over this, and one day you’re going to find someone who treats you the way you’re supposed to be treated. And they’ll wake up every morning and kiss your face and tell you how pretty you are. And they definitely won’t go to visit their classmate who has a tongue piercing and knows how to use it.”

Seokjin half laughed through her tears, “Thanks, you’re sweet.”

Nam Joon’s throat went dry.

Seokjin sobbed again.

Nam Joon hugged her this time, she buried her face in Nam Joon’s shirt, “You’ll be okay. There are worse things.”

“Then why does it feel like my whole world is falling apart.”

Seokjin spent the day there. Nam Joon didn’t ask her to leave, and Seokjin seemed fine spilling her emotions to a total stranger. And her hair smelled like lavender. So Nam Joon put up with cheesy romantic comedies and long, dramatic blockbusters that their day consisted of. And went to the convenient store three times, first for ice cream, second for popcorn, and the third time Seokjin went with her to find the perfect movie watching candy. After five movies, Seokjin had cried herself to sleep. On Nam Joon’s chest. Where Nam Joon could feel her body move with every steady breath. Nam Joon’s face was red.

Hoseok came home late, as expected, in a black hoodie and grey sweat pants, and her hair sloppily tied up in a ponytail. Her tired expression turned to a cheeky grin when she saw Nam Joon trapped under Seokjin on the couch. She mouthed “Good job” and put her thumbs up.

Nam Joon flipped her off.

~~

For once, Nam Joon didn’t mind the stammering red faced company she had over the next morning. “I’m really, really sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep here. Or stay here all day actually…”

“It’s fine,” Nam Joon smiled, “Do you feel better?”

“I’m getting there,” Seokjin gave a lazy morning smile back. Her Light brown hair now out of the ponytail and brushed past her shoulders. She rubbed at sleep encrusted eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. Nam Joon found herself questioning how could someone look so good in the morning? She cleared and asked, “So what are your plans for today?”

Seokjin shrugged, bangs falling across her face, “I don’t know. I’m have to end things with Kidoh, but after that I’m not sure.”

“You could always come back here, or we could go out and grab a movie. I get to pick which one, since you made me watch Gone with the Wind yesterday.” 

Seokjin’s smile grew wider, “That sounds great. Here put your number in so I can text you later.”

Nam Joon grabbed the pink iphone and handed her galaxy across the table. She typed in her number then they exchanged phones. “Rap Monster?” Seokjin teased.

“It sounds cooler than Kim Nam Joon,” she shrugged, “Kim Seokjin, our last names are the same.”

“Surprise, two people called Kim, both from South Korea.”

“Your name is now Princess,” Nam Joon typed away on her phone.

“Why?” Seokjin pouted.

Nam Joon swallowed, “because you like pink.”

The pout continued, but Seoukjin didn’t question the nickname again.

One of the hall doors opened, revealing Hoseok in an extra large shirt and no pants. She walked into the kitchen, blinked at Seokjin, then smiled, “How was your night?”

Nam Joon glared.

Hoseok was still tired, therefore her senses were down, therefore she didn’t sense something was wrong when Seokjin abruptly stood up.

And punched Hoseok in the face.

Nam Joon looked at the ground, Hoseok was clutching her bloody nose. She looked back at Seokjin, whose smile was noticeably wider. 

Seokjin smoothed down her jeans. “I’ll text you later,” she waved at Nam Joon.

Nam Joon waved back.

With careful steps, Seokjin jumped over Hoseok, picked her bag off the couch, swung it over her shoulder, and walked out of the apartment. 

Nam Joon stared.

“Hoseok I think I’m in love.”

Hoseok groaned her response, “Ow.”