Someplace Like Home |n.j

24.

I finally got myself to leave Hoseok's place. I left this morning and went back to my studio to face everything. Her lingering scent, her ashtray, her clothes that still appeared in places I could least expect.

I went to work last night, the whole time my eyes wouldn't leave the entrance door. I was watching to spot anything, the familiar silhouette, the shabby tote bag, or even her hair that's grown longer since the first time we met. It goes past her shoulder now.

Nami didn't show up.

I waited after my shift for an hour, sitting on the curb. It was her favourite spot. She just couldn't sit against the building like a normal person and always had to risk getting her feet run over. It felt weird sitting there alone.

The homeless man was there too. He asked me if the 'kind lady' would ever return, probably so he could share another meal with her. I only shrugged. I'd like to know too.

It could be so easy. I could just go to her studio and tell her I wanted to see her. But if I'm the one running after her even now, then everything's just going to go back to the way it was. I need to know that she's willing to do the same for me.

But was I too harsh? When I told her not to see me again? It's been over a week since then, maybe she's over it now and couldn't be arsed to talk to me. But what if it's because I went overboard and she actually listened? No, Nami doesn't listen to anyone. And she'll come around, Hoseok said so. Hoseok always knows.

I blink at the ceiling from my bed and puff out a breath. I didn't get much sleep last night, I didn't want to, anyway. I got home at two in the morning, and all I wanted to do was see her.  I ended up collecting her clothes and organized them into a spot in my closet. She'll come back for these. That was always her excuse. I even smelled them like a creep, some of them were on the ground when I found them, but I decided not to wash them, not until Nami comes back. I don't want the scent to go away before she does.

I roll onto my front and stare blankly at the headboard with my chin in the pillow. What is she doing right now? Would she be in bed right now too? Sulking like a child? No, Nami wouldn't ever let her emotions take over. Even if the sky collapses, she'd just keep living. That was her entire thing. She's probably working on her laptop at that cafe right now.

***

And that's where I found myself standing an hour later.

I'm standing by the entrance of the cafe, peering through the glass wall next to the door. There she was, hiding in the corner of the room by a table all by herself. I felt my heart thump harder right when I spot her, I felt it pound right next to my ears. Nami was working on something with her eyes practically fixed on the computer screen. She was listening to music with her earbuds on, it's probably something melancholic.

"Excuse me," A woman brushes past me to get through into the cafe and I stumble back. she threw me a glare as she entered. I look like a creep, don't I? I scratch my head and refocus on Nami. I rarely get to see her by herself, I don't know what she's like when she's alone. But it's not much different, she has that same frown on her face, it's there even without her mouth drooping. Nami's hand leaves the mouse for a split second to brush her bangs from her view. My mother used to cut my hair for me growing up to save money. If she liked Nami, she'd do it for her too.

I couldn't miss the eyebags under her eyes, or the lack of colour on her face. I watched Nami's shoulders slump as she slowly buried her face in her hands. And she just stayed like that, for maybe a minute, or two. Her shoulders didn't shake, so I knew she wasn't crying. It takes a lot for Nami to cry sober. Something in me triggered the wetness in my eyes, and my teeth latched onto my bottom lip, nibbling on it nervously while my eyes observed her every move. Is she like this because of me? Her shoulders slump even lower with one big huff, and I can imagine the long exhale leaving her lips and how it'd sound. I felt my own hands itching to touch her, to pat her on the back, or to caress the little sprinkles of brown on her cheek.

I flinch when Nami suddenly dropped her arms and snap her head towards my direction. I quickly duck out of the view behind the concrete wall. I gulp thickly as I stayed still in my spot. Is she telepathic? Passing pedestrians glance at me in confusion while they pass and I roll my eyes at how pathetic I look. After enough time's passed, I turn myself back to look at her. Nami isn't looking here anymore, nor at the computer. She has her head tilted down with her focus on something below the table, my eyes follow to see her phone in her hand. Nami's looking at it nervously with her teeth nibbling at her lip, and I see the index finger on her free hand picking at her thumb. She's probably going to come out for a smoke soon. I take that as my cue to leave.

She looks fine. Not good, but fine. What was I even expecting when I came here? Did I want to see her do well? Or the opposite? Would that be selfish? I don't think I'm some kind of sadist, I want her to be happy, just...with me. But I can't decide that for her. Nami's leaving in three weeks, and we're running out of time with every passing second. Even if she did come to find me, even if we became something, how much time together would we have by then? I wouldn't ask her to stay for me. Nami wouldn't stay at one place for anyone either, I don't need anybody telling me that to figure that out. Maybe I'm latching onto something unrealistic. Maybe I really am reading it all wrong like Nami said. I stuff my hands in my pockets and get on my way with one final sigh.

My phone's screen lights up in my pocket with a quiet buzz.

Hoseok
hey loverboy

Hoseok
it's her birthday tomorrow