Chapter Fourteen

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☁︎

Namjoon

I stared at Anna. She blinked at me. Would she have looked so nonchalant and oblivious if she knew that she held my life in her hands? Would she still stand there and act as if nothing was wrong if she knew how desperate I was to suppress the words that were spilled on to the page she'd surely just read? I couldn't help but feel suffocated at that moment, like my lungs were collapsing onto each other.

And all she did was stare at me innocently.

"Um...I'm sorry...? A-are you upset about this?" She asked, lifting the notebook towards me. "This..."

Anna brought it back to herself and looked down at it again. I wanted to dash over and rip it from her hands. To burn it until there was nothing but ashes. Until she forgot all about it. My breathing sped up. No one was supposed to know about this.

"I don't want to pry...but..." Anna's eyes found mine again.

For once they didn't look icy and glazed. They pierced into me, searching for something it seemed.

"Namjoon, is this--"

"Don't," I whispered, finally finding my voice again.

She closed her mouth and raised her eyebrows. I guessed she wasn't used too being interrupted.

"Nam--"

"Anna." I took a deep breath, forcing out the next words. "Leave."

She stared at me for a moment longer, guilt finally washing over her face. Anna looked away, setting the cursed notebook on the table and packing up her things. I just stood and watched as she did so. I was still even as she walked by me, headed towards the door. I heard her pause at the exit.

"I'm really sorry. Really, okay?"

With an audible sigh, Anna opened the door. That's when a thought of realization poured over me. As much as I wanted to be alone, this was imperative.

"Wait!" I hissed, turning towards the door.

Anna was paused, about to step out into the hall. I rushed over and quietly closed it against.

"Y-yah," she protested. "You just said to leave!"

"Shh!" I shushed her.

She actually obeyed, though letting out a huffy breath of annoyance. As another silence passed over the room, I stood at the door and listened for any sort of sound from the hall. After a few moments, I decided the coast was clear. It was after the danger had passed that I realized how awkward this situation become. I bit my lip and slowly turned back to Anna, who stood behind me with her arms crossed, watching me with annoyance and expectancy.

"Can I go now?" She asked, her iciness had returned.

"Well...If you wouldn't mind waiting just a few more minutes?" I asked, rather sheepishly.

"I've been waiting for a half an hour already?!" Anna snapped. "What did you expect me to do within that time?! Sit at that uncomfortable chair with patience?"

"Anna, if you could just--" I began, glancing at the door warily.

"I'm not a machine, you know, I get bored! So I simply looked around and stumbled across some old notebooks! What's the big deal! Are you upset just because I got a glimpse of your whiny middle-school feelings--

She was interrupted as I brought my hand to her mouth to shut her up.

"If you could just listen!" I hissed. "I know you wouldn't understand my situation even if I tried to explain! But I really need you to just shut your mouth for five minutes! Why can't you go back to the brooding silence you keep at school?!"

Anna slapped my hand away, wiping her mouth in disgust. But she stayed quiet. Both of us did. We certainly weren't close, so an awkward silence followed the outburst we'd had at each other. I was surprised at the amount of passion Anna actually had. I decided she didn't like being blamed. And it was the first time I'd admitted to anyone that my situation at home wasn't perfect. But then, the whole hiding her away in my room had probably given that away. After what seemed like much longer than five minutes, I glanced at Anna again. She was sitting on my bed, staring back at me. I looked down again, wondering if I should speak up. But Anna surprised me by clearing her throat.

"So..." she began after I looked to her. "You...rap...? I mean, either that or you write really passionate slam poetry."

Despite the heaviness of the situation, I snorted softly. Neither. But the former was closer to the truth.

"No. Well...I used to," I replied. "It's not like I ever performed for people. I just wrote really."

Anna considered this for a moment before replying.

"Do you not write anymore?" She asked.

"It was stupid, Anna. I don't have time to write my 'whiny middle school feelings' anymore, as you called it," I said.

"Sorry about that," she said quietly.

"I never thought I'd hear that word from you," I commented.

"What? Sorry? Well, enjoy it, because it's the last time I ever say it to you," she snapped.

We both drifted back into silence. Uncomfortable, I sank to the ground. It was so strange to actually talk about this with someone.

"I just can't believe the class president is a rapper," Anna murmured.

I swallowed hard. I disliked the way she said it.

"I'm not. I never was, and I never will be," I said darkly.

She continued to study me, and I squirmed under her inquiring gaze.

"Then what do you call what I just saw?" Anna asked.

With a sigh, I stood up, walking over to the old notebook that sat on the table. I picked it up and allowed myself to hold it for just a moment. It was a familiar feeling. I bit my lip and pushed away all the thoughts in my head. Still silent, I took the notebook to the corner of my room and dropped it into the garbage bin.

"Trash," I finally replied.

Anna tilted her head, her gaze still following me. She showed no sort of reaction to my actions, not that I expected her to. I walked by her and to the door.

"Follow me," I instructed.

Anna swung her bag around her shoulder again. I peaked out into the hall to catch of glimpse of anyone, but the coast was clear, so I continued out. It was colder than my room as usual, and I shivered as I led Anna down the back staircase. She was, thankfully, silent as I led her through the back kitchen and out the screen door. Neither of us said another word, even when we'd gotten into my car.

I drove Anna to her house, as I now knew where she lived from the past lessons. I pulled to a stop on the sidewalk in front of it. And once again, the both of us sat in silence. She didn't make a move to leave, and I didn't tell her to. Finally, she sighed and turned to me.

"I'm not going to tell anyone," Anna said softly.

I nodded. Seemingly satisfied, she turned and opened the car door.

"And Namjoon?" She hesitated. "It wasn't trash. It was..."

Anna didn't finish her sentence. Instead, she stepped outside and closed the door behind her. But her words, even after she'd gone inside her house, left me sitting there. A familiar flicker lit inside me, a warmth that spread through me. It was the first time anyone had ever found out about my writing. And Anna's words, even if she hadn't finished, made me realize something.

I wasn't upset that someone had found my notebooks. I was relieved.

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