Awkward | BTS ✓

17

"What did you catch on fire?" I ask suspiciously as I make my way out of my office after a long day at work.

"What? Nothing. I just wanted to see you," he says, smiling.

I narrow my eyes suspiciously at him and he purses his lips.

"Fine. I tried to fix my washing machine, but it just kind of... exploded. So they're cleaning the mess up and I had to stay out of their way until they're done," he huffs out and I roll my eyes.

"We can order some pizza and watch Netflix at my place," I offer and he nods.

"Oh, and guess what. Apparently, I have the power to break things without even touching them! I went to play some music after you left yesterday and my speaker was gone, and when I went to look for it, I found it shattered underneath my table," he says.

I clear my throat uncomfortably and avoid eye contact, looking up at the night sky instead.

"That constellation kinda looks like a dick, don't you think?" I ask, pointing at a random cluster of stars to change the subject.

"Huh?" He asks, turning his head to the sky to see what I'm talking about, and he runs right into a tree next to the sidewalk.

"Boy," I groan in annoyance. "Just because you're looking at the sky doesn't mean you should forget to watch where you're walking."

"Isla, I only have two eyes," he snaps back as he rubs his nose. "And I don't know how to make one look up and one look down yet."

"What the hell do you mean, 'yet'?"

A loud "hoot" interrupts our argument.

"I don't speak owl language, Isla," Namjoon says and I nearly push him back into the tree.

"That wasn't me. It was obviously an owl," I say, pointing at a pair of yellow eyes staring at us from the branches of the tree.

"I didn't think owls actually existed!" He exclaims loudly, and the owl and I both turn to give Namjoon judging looks.

"What?" He asks.

I gesture to the animal. "Well, there you go. You've seen one. Now come on, I want nachos."

"Let's keep it as a pet!" He says excitedly as he clumsily attaches himself to the base of the tree before trying to shimmy up the trunk.

"Please stop humping the tree, Namjoon."

"You're really immature, Isla," Namjoon says as he stands on the tip of his toes to try to grab the owl so he can take it home as a pet.

Yes. I'm the immature one in this situation.

"Please leave it alone. It's going to scratch your eyes out," I warn but he's in his own world right now, stretching up as far as he can reach, his tongue sticking out in concentration as he reaches for the owl.

The owl gives Namjoon's invading hand a death glare before harshly pecking it with its beak, causing Namjoon to yelp in pain and retract his hand quickly.

"The fucker bit me!" He yells as he holds his hand against his chest.

"Language!" I shout back as the owl flies away. "That's your own fault for trying to kidnap an owl."

"I think you mean 'owlnap'," he says, holding back a laugh.

I gape at him for a moment.

"I'm sorry," he shakes his head.

I just slowly shake my head and walk away.

"Oh, come on. It was kind of funny," he says, lightly shoving my shoulder as he catches up to me.

"I guess 'owl' forgive you," I say, turning to grin at him.

Namjoon snorts, apparently causing a tickle in his nose because a moment later, a loud "achoo!" echoes around the deserted sidewalk and a shower of flames erupts from his mouth, leaving a scorch mark on the sidewalk.

"Bless you," I say.

"I love that you're not freaked out by that anymore," he says, sniffling as he wipes his nose.

"I can smell the future and I can turn invisible only if I sing 'Poker Face' by Lady Gaga. It would be, well, hypocritical if I was freaked out by your... abilities," I say, rolling my eyes so hard they almost fall out of my skull.

This is my life, I guess.

"You know, I've been looking for that restaurant that the bad shrimp came from," he says as we continue to walk to my apartment.

"Why didn't we take the bus? Ugh," I groan as I feel exhaustion overtaking my poor, out of shape body.

"Exercise is good. Stop being so dramatic," he says, rolling his eyes. "Did you even hear what I said about the restaurant?"

"Carry me," I say, leaning against a concrete wall and taking my stilettos off.

"No!" Namjoon says, frowning. "It's only two miles. Don't be a crybaby."

"I can't go on. This is how I die. It's been a good life. You're not invited to my funeral," I say, sitting down on the dirty sidewalk as I dramatically gasp for breath and fan my face.

Don't judge me. Walking isn't a thing I like to do.

"You're so overdramatic, Isla," Namjoon groans, leaning down to grab me and throw me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Get your hand off my butt!" I squeak as I feel his palm resting against my booty as he carries me.

"Back to what I was saying before you threw a tantrum," he says, ignoring me. "I've been trying to find the place, but I can't remember where it is or what it's called. I mean, if I had known all of this would happen, I would've thought to write the address down."

"I can't think when your hand is on my butt, dimples," I huff out.

He ignores me again. "I would ask if you remember the name or address of the place, but I know you don't. You probably don't even remember your own name sometimes."

I pout and smack his butt with my hand. "Rude. I remember my name."

"Sure you do, Emily," he says nonchalantly.

I frown. "Now look who's forgetful! My name is Isla."

"Um, what are you talking about? Your name is Emily... see? I told you that you don't even remember your own name!" He exclaims.

I frown, confused. My name is... Isla... right...?

I hear Namjoon snickering and I gasp dramatically before spanking his butt again.

"That's mean!"

"I'm sorry. You're cute when you're confused," he laughs and I roll my eyes even if he can't see it.

"The sooner we can get rid of these powers, the better," I say.

"Yours aren't even that bad," Namjoon points out as we reach my apartment building. "Mine are on a whole new level of inconvenient."

"Put me down. I'm sure as hell not letting you carry me up the stairs. I'm not in the mood for a broken neck," I say, wiggling around on his shoulder like a worm until he puts me down at the bottom of the first flight of stairs.

"When exactly would you be in the mood for a broken neck, may I ask?" He asks as we carefully climb the stairs.

"Any time I hear the words 'I'll save you' come out of your mouth," I say jokingly and he glares at me.

"I do my gosh darn best, you ungrateful egg!"