ｗｅ ａｒｅ ａｌｌ ｍａｄ ｈｅｒｅ

twelve.

You watched silently in curious amusement.

The two hadn't seemed to pick up your presence by the doorway. You knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but the door was open and you just happened to walk by when you heard Yoongi and Namjoon's voices talking about something in their mother language. Not to mention, you've never seen the former's room (you also never tried to, because you took the sentence on that small mat in front of his bedroom door quite seriously, lest you came face-to-face with Yoongi's wrath, oh no, thank you), which according to the others had been turned into a mini studio slash bedroom of some sort.

They were sitting on a chair each, the older male in a comfy leather desk chair and the other in a less grander one, while they peered over some papers, eyes scanning the words and hands busily moving the pen about. Three huge monitors stood upon two desk tables pushed into one, an electric keyboard sitting right below the bezel less screens, and whatever it was displayed on them, you could only perceive them as some kind of graph.

The two boys continued their dbate, and you were just about to leave them to their discussion when Namjoon suddenly looked up and caught your gaze. To your relief, he sounded not that perturbed by your intrusion when he called your name, and even Yoongi smiled when he saw you fidgeting timidly by the door.

"Sorry, I was just curious on what you're working on," you reasoned honestly.

"I'm just helping Yoongi hyung with the lyrics in this new song of his," Namjoon explained, and you oooh-ed in awe.

"Wow. You're also a lyricist?" you asked in amazement. Then again, the revelation made a perfect sense; after all, Namjoon was an avid reader and always ha his ways with words. You could picture him channeling that talent into music.

How was he so talented and handsome and yet so humble?

"No, no, it's just, you know.... Pieces of words just comes into my mind? And I just write them down," he smiled that endearing dimpled smile, slightly avoiding your eyes. Was he shy? You unconsciously smiled wider at the thought.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's what a lyricist does, Joon."

This time, his eyes widen at the nickname you used, and he scrambled for words he could use to retort, something that sounded suave and maybe a little flirty, a set of comeback which would ignite your cheeks pink--

Yoongi's eyes watched your interaction, calculative and silently observing.

Namjoon cleared his throat, "But Yoongi hyung taught me the basics. He's the one who composes and strings up everything into an amazing piece of music."

You nodded sagely. From the lovely piano you've heard occasionally in the dorm and the amount of music majors who praised and spoke his name with high regard, you've long since fully ascertained that the boy was an amazing composer, "Well, that goes without saying. Hobi showed me one of his performance where he used the music Yoongi composed, and it was breathtaking!"

"Well, naturally," the musician smirked pridefully at your praise and motioned for you to come in, "Want to listen to what I'm working on now?"

You gaped. Even the blond stared at his friend in surprise. "Can I??" you asked in astonishment, unsure if he was just joking with you (unlikely, but still) or whether he really meant it (even though you've heard from the boys how he only lets a few selected people to listen to an unfinished piece of his creations).

"Come in and shut the door before I changed my mind."

Upon you entering, he immediately stood up and pointed at his chair to you as he moved aside to give you a clear path. You knew what he meant, and the gesture was lovely, but you were a guest and you didn't feel like you deserved the grandiose and expensive looking seat.