Her || KIM NAMJOON ✔

III.

Namjoon's POV

In my twenty years of existence, I never felt needed. Thought, I admit I have potential when it comes to leadership and music.

But I sucked at it with smartasses who don't appreciate my efforts.

I let out a breath, squeezing the damp towel dry and placing it on the stranger's head to warm her up.

I have learned that her name is Mayu. That doesn't sound Korean to me so I assumed she was Japanese. Maybe she was a tourist who got lost and thieves has stolen her things so she was placed in a dumpster to let her die.

What a great mind to think of all those scenarios.

I shook my head, still wiping her forehead. The color of her face soon turned warm, her cheeks giving off a rosy pink color.

She was pretty, no excuses.

But I don't want to be in any type of commitment just yet.

I looked away and stood up to check the food I was cooking for her when she wakes up. It was a good thing that I successfully followed the instructions on the quick-and-easy crab and corn soup.

I could have burned the whole kitchen down.