Filter (Kim Namjoon X Readers)

Chapter 6

Sweat stained your forehead and your breath was faltering as you crouched down at every crack on the floor, every carpet that closely resembled the color of the object you're looking for. Your neck was growing sore and students were laughing every time they passed you. It was normal and you easily tuned them out.

You had been searching all around the school for a while during lunch hour with no success. You cursed at yourself for not being careful or not paying attention. It could have been anywhere, like at home, or on the bus, or on the street. If it was here, the janitors must have cleaned it up for now. With that in mind, you decided to ask any janitors you could find. They all shook their heads. If they had found anything, it would be in the main office but unfortunately, they did not pick up any jewelry. They were honest people, you trusted their words. Sighing, you got back on the ground.

Namjoon heard talks at lunch that the class president on a search for something, so passionate that she was going crazy. Intrigued by that premise, he decided to look for you and had been discreetly following you passed the class bell. He was quite taken aback that you weren't going back to class. Whatever it is you were looking for must be extremely important.

Nothing, you wanted to scream. You had looked everywhere and even your mom couldn't find it at school. It was gone and it was your fault. Frustration took you as you finally let the tears go. Your eyes started burning red. When Namjoon saw the tears rolling down your cheeks, his feet moved before his brain could process what he was doing.

While crying and crouching down, you saw the familiar black and white converse and loose pants hems. You stood up quickly, the blood rushed to your brain, making your head spun a little. But you pushed through it to turn your back to him to avoid him seeing you in this vulnerable state. "What's wrong?" he asked quietly. There was a hint of worriedness in his voice, it almost made you believe his intentions.

You wiped the tears away, fabric creating rough friction against your cheeks. It became red. "It's nothing to concern yourself with," you answered with shaking voice. As you began walking away, Namjoon caught your wrist. For a second, neither of you moved, just letting the warmth flow through each other. His grip was strong and protective. The lightbulb was blinking.

"Tell me," he commanded.

Slowly, your body relaxed and you turned around, looking down at his feet. "I dropped my bracelet somewhere and I need to find it."

Namjoon scoffed, it was to mask that he was seriously concerned when he saw you cried. He was reminded that he picked up your bracelet this morning, but it was too soon to tell you. "It's just a bracelet," he stated. "What brand is it? I'll get you a new one."

You shook your head, feeling too tired to argue with him about how money doesn't buy everything. "It was my grandmothers. She gave it to me before she passed away. There's only one in the world." The thought clogged your mind and made you blame yourself further. "Forget it, just go back to what you're doing." You pulled your hand back to your side and took a step.

"I know where it is," Namjoon declared, making you freeze.

"What?"

"I know where your bracelet is."

You ran up to him, gripping his collars. He had pictured something like this would happen, but it would be because you were giving yourself to him. Right now, the look of your eyes was far from giving in. But that didn't stop his heart from accelerating and his palms to sweat out of nervousness. "Where is it?"

He cleared his throat and looked out the window. "I'll tell you, under one condition."

"What is it?" you asked with concerned eyes. Whatever he has in store for you is certainly a horrible idea.

He tilted his head playfully, "You have to spend the afternoon with me in the music room."

"What?" you yelled, instinctively wrapping your arms around your chest. Namjoon laughed, his hair bouncing around.

"It's not what you think, pabo."

"I don't care. I don't want to do that, I have to go to class!"

"He shrugged, "Then I guess you'll never see your bracelet again."

"You're really despicable," you muttered.

His eyes fell, and did his smile. "So I've been told. But what do you say?" He leaned closer, "I won't bite."

You bit your lips, thinking about how utterly reckless this would be to follow the wolf into its den. But you had no other choice. "Fine, but just until the end of the school day, and then you'll tell me where it is."

"Deal." Out of formality, you both shook hands and the same warmth flooded Namjoon's body. It was something familiar, something he hadn't expected from you, and he wanted more.

You were thanking the heavens that everyone was in class right now and wouldn't see you following Kim Namjoon to the music room. If someone did, a scandal would erupt and your life would be turned upside down. When you reached the door, you stopped. There had been rumors about the music room, almost myths. Someone said once you enter, you won't come out the same person as if there's a secret force sucking the goodness out of everyone who enters. Good thing there was nothing pure about you in the first place. "The boys aren't here," Namjoon said from behind. "I told them to go to their classes."

"Really? And they actually did it?"

"It's because I asked very nicely,"

"Doubtful." Without any further interruption, Namjoon pushed the door open and allowed you to enter first. The first thing you noticed was how dark everything was. Despite it being in the middle of the day, everything seemed to be covered in a black hue. Only the grand piano situated near the cracked curtains was illuminated. The door shut behind you, making you jumped and Namjoon flipped the lights on. The chandelier came alive like millions of stars, their lights painting every object they touched.

Your eyes were getting overwhelmed, there were too many things to look at. The marble floor, the liquor bar you heard so much about, the mirror wall, the multiple leather couches in the middle of the room, the gigantic flatscreen that fell from the ceiling, and the wall of books that reached the clouds. "Woah," was the only thing you could say. Everything in the school was quite modern and beautiful, but this room had the atmosphere of a sophisticated loft in a foreign city.

"Glad you like it," Namjoon crept up from behind, holding a glass of liquor. "Want some?"

"No, thank you." you politely declined. "What am I supposed to do now?"

"Anything you want, what's mine is yours." Namjoon winked, then he rested his body on the gold detailed couch that looked like something that came from a castle. It was going to be a long afternoon.