The Dance Teacher || Namseok

| 14 |

It was seven am in the morning and all living life has sprung awake to enjoy the beautiful day. Birds sang there melodious chirping and car engines buzzed as they drove by Namjoons window. The risen sun emitted a faint shine through the curtains of Namjoons window, landing directly on his closed eyelids, causing them to gently twitch.

A small yawn escaped his chapped lips as he began to slowly wake up from his well deserved sleep and soon his eyes were open and adjusting to the bright light. Namjoon lifted himself up on his elbows and gradually took his time to look around his surroundings in confusion, he didn't remember even coming home last night at all - until it hit him.

As in, literally, something hit him.

A warm hand had slapped Namjoon on the cheek and caused him to drop back down on his bed with a startled groan. He brought his hand to his victimized cheek and held it in shock, confused as to where the hand came from. Namjoons eyes gazed over to his left side, where a pale hand was sticking out of a blob of white sheets next to him.

Namjoon was mentally freaking out, did he accidently take a guy home last night? He does remember drinking more than normal but he doubts alcohol would give him the power to actually pick up a guy or even possibly hook up. The more he tried to remember what occured the following night, his hangover became more harsh and caused a migraine to build up instead.

After blowing out a small nervous breath and gathering up his courage, Namjoon slowly extended his hand towards the white blanket and gripped it softly between his thumb and forefinger, then even more steadily, he began to push the sheet down to the point that a head of hair could be seen. As he began to push the sheets even lower, the anonymous male let out a tired groan and forcefully pulled the sheets back up to cover his face from the freezing morning air.

Namjoon bit his lip, still unaware as to who the stranger could be or how he could actually figure out who it was. He let out a sigh and began to bring down the fabric once again, this time in a faster pace so the stranger wouldn't have time to pull it back up. Soon, the messy hair was back in Namjoons vision, and then a pale ear, an eyebrow and before Namjoon had time to look at the face, the male suddenly jumped up and screamed.

Namjoon jumped from the startled shout and fell off his side of the bed and onto the cold tiled flooring. He groaned upon the hard impact and gently removed himself from the ground. Namjoon stood back up and rubbed at his pounding head, shaking it a bit in order to bring back his state of mind.

As his head regained focus, Namjoons eyes suddenly widened as he stared at the male, "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE!"

Hoseok looked back with the same startled expression, "THE FUCK SHOULD I KNOW EGGHEAD! WHY THE HELL AM I SHIRTLESS TOO?"

"LIKE I WOULD KNOW!" Namjoon shouted back, his mind racing in pure confusion. Hoseok let out an angry growl and looked around the room furiously, searching for the shirt he had worn the day before to avoid Namjoons lingering eyes on his bare chest. Once he spotted his shirt, he went over to the corner to pick it up and hastily put it back on and turn back to send a agitated glare at Namjoon.

"well?"

Namjoon looked over, "well what?"

"don't you want to talk about what happened last night?" Hoseok asked, wanting to know how he got into Namjoons room since he was way too drunk to even take note of the past events himself.

"i don't remember anything," Namjoon huffed groggily as he walked towards the door, "and in all honestly, i doubt we did anything considering we both hate each other so much that even if were were really drunk, we couldn't have possibly done anything. i think we probably just came to my place after getting tired since its closer."