Someplace Like Home |n.j

12.

"You guys didn't do it?"

I shook my head.

"Just kissed?"

I nodded.

"What happened after?" Hoseok—now my relationship counselor apparently—asked. He's back at my studio now, sitting on my chair whilst avoiding my bed. I've washed the bedsheets since then, but he still won't go anywhere near it.

"Then she went to the bathroom and sent me a text saying that I could see myself out." I had knocked on the bathroom and said goodbye to her before really leaving. Nami didn't reply to me at the time, not verbally at least. She'd sent me another text with a short 'bye'.

It was cute. I didn't really mind.

"Maybe she was having a smoke in the bathroom." Hoseok joked, to which I replied with a stern look from the patio.

"She's not just a smoker, don't talk about her like that's all she does." I grab my basket of freshly washed clothes and began hanging them off of my drying rack.

"How could I know? All you talk about are her horrible habits and how they were turn-ons. Give me more to work with then." He spun himself around in the chair while I felt my body grow warm from embarrassment.

"That's not all I talk about." I defended shamefully with a quiet tone. He then hums nonchalantly, not buying my statement whatsoever.

"Come help me hang my clothes, will you?" I grumble, "All you do is come here and drink my beer. Maybe make some use of your time." My unbearable friend was thankfully cooperative as he got up his ass and headed my way.

I regretted complaining the second he reached his hand into the basket. While pulling out a familiar piece of clothing, he had on a playful smirk dancing upon his lips, "Interesting."

My eyes fearfully landed on the fabric dangling from his finger. Oh Jesus, that's Nami's sock. I'd found a pair under my bed not long ago, realizing that she must've left without them. She hasn't asked about it yet, but then again, how does one start a conversation about something as trivial as a pair of socks? Good thing I've already washed her other clothes days before, or else there's no way he'd shut up about it.

"These are little small for you, aren't they?" Hoseok has made teasing me his new hobby. It was funny at first, but now I just want to stuff Nami's cigarette butts up his nostrils.

"Don't touch it," As weirdly protective (over a sock) as it sounded, that was all I could muster up before I snatched it from his hand and clipped it onto the drying rack.

He's annoying, he's too loud, too everything. All we do is bicker and glare at each other, I really do question our friendship at times. But maybe that's it, the fact that we can interact like this, yet still find ourselves safest with each other. It's the belief that no matter what we say, our bond won't ever be affected. Even if we fight, even if we poke at each other's spots, there's no doubt that nobody will be faster than him to be on my side if I ever needed someone. And I'm sure he knows it's the same for him.

"I want to know though," There was a sudden shift to his tone, and I adjusted to this, now preparing for a question not as playful as the previous. "If anything were to become of you and Nami...do you think your mother would be okay with it?"

I knew exactly what he's talking about. Nami is Japanese, she didn't grow up here either. We don't have to mention my mother, a lot of people probably wouldn't like it. Good thing I don't have many friends, so I won't have many to lose. Funny how I'm talking as if Nami and I are really anything at all. I know that kiss wasn't anything close to it. Nami was just embarrassed, I'd be reading it too much if I assumed anything more.

I could only sigh, "Of course not. I don't think she'd need to be Japanese for my mother to not like her." My mother is very strict and prim. Nami is everything she raised my sister to not become.

She's confident with her words and has no problem being blatant. I have not spent too much time with her, but I also know she would be no fan of how we must treat elders here. Nami isn't a bad person, she won't do anything she doesn't like. But that's exactly it, she would hate to receive unearned respect. I can already imagine her complaining about it, 'Why do people have me to treat me differently just because I have sagging tits?'

"I'll for sure use this to comfort myself if our relationship doesn't go anywhere," I dig out the second sock and clip it next to its pair, "At least I won't have to face my mother's wrath."

My phone makes a sound from my nightstand. Could it be Nami? I drop the damp shirt in my hand immediately and hop in from the patio, chasing after a text while Hoseok grinned knowingly behind my back.

Nami
are u busy?

-
depends
-
what is it?

Nami
just want to hang out, maybe we can criticize the people at the park again.

I put my phone down and look up to my friend who was already grinning at me, "Go, abandon me then, young lover." He voiced dramatically.

"I'm sorry, I know today was supposed to be for you."

"Who am I to stop you? You finally got your sex life going, friends are supposed to cheer each other on. I'm proud of you."

There he is again, that annoying yet touchingly supportive best friend of mine. I smiled, looking back at my phone.

-
I'll see you in a bit then.

We met up at the park soon after. She was already there by the time I arrived. Nami was laying on the grass with her hair sprawled in all directions. Her wardrobe was a bit different from what I'm used to seeing from her. She had on a gender-neutral white shirt and black pants.

I sat down next to her as her eyes slightly shifted my way to acknowledge my presence, "Hey." I told her. Nami looked back to the sky.

Something was wrong with her. I don't know what. Maybe it was the thick swallow from her throat, the redness of those chocolate orbs or the weary expression etched upon her face. I wish her face brightened when I showed up, or when I sat down next to her. I wish I was the one able to get rid of this crushing sight.

Did she have someone like that in Japan? Someone that could make her better just by existing. Just one look and suddenly it's all okay. I hope she didn't, because that means that person would be too far away from her now, and I also wish that person could be me.

I laid down next to her slowly, now looking at the same blue sky as she was. I wonder what this sky means to her now. Does it make her feel better looking at it? Or does she prefer a cloudy sky? Or does she not care? Maybe all she needs is something big enough to take away whatever's disrupting her peace.

My body stiffened when I felt pressure on my shoulder. I strained to lift my head and look down. It's just her head. The sudden redness of my cheeks told me I was wrong to say that it was 'just'. No, this made my face burn and it made my heart race. It was a different feeling from when my hands could roam her naked body, or when I watched her touch herself with pleasure written on her lips as she bit them. This feeling was much more.

"Are we friends, Namjoon?"

My body failed to relax when I replied as normally as I could, "We're whatever you want us to be."

"Okay."

She was silent after, and I couldn't find any reason to interrupt whatever she had on her mind. This was enough for now, her head on my shoulder, with our eyes gazing at the same scenery. This is as close to what I want us to be as it can get.

I wanted to relish this moment, to treasure every drop of every second. But my body rebelled against me when I felt my eyelids meet.

I wish I'd noticed the wetness of my sleeve then. But I missed it, just like every other thing about her.