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silv3rswirls · 1 year

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spilled milk

“I’m sorry “ you gasped lightly at the feeling of milk seeping into your socks and the scrape of glass shards against the floor. For whatever reason, your grip had slipped and your glass of milk had tumbled to the floor without much time to try and save it.

“What?” Namjoon’s voice bellowed from the hall, “are you making a mess in there?”

“I’m sorry” you called back, the bass in your boyfriend's voice had left a shiver down your spine. He wasn’t shouting at you, you told yourself, but even so you could feel the ever so familiar swell of anxiety in your stomach.

“Don’t- don’t be mad!” You could only quickly glance up at Namjoon as he entered the kitchen, a furrow of confusion knitting his brow as he watched you scramble on the floor to clean it. “It was an accident, I’m sorry, I don’t know- I don’t know what happened.” You babbled, hands shaky as you frantically trying to pick the glass up- ignored the little stings of glass cutting your fingers.

“Hey” he knelt down beside you, reaching to grab your wrist to put a gentle stop to your panic. “Calm down, you know I don’t care.”

“No- it’s going to stain, ruin the floor, I wasted all of it- I broke one of your nice glasses-“ you hit him with every excuse in the book, trying to hide the shake in your voice towards the end. “Please don’t be mad” you begged, reaching to wipe away the first tear that fell; smearing milk and blood against your cheek.

“Hey” Namjoon frowned, “calm down, it’s just milk. I’m not mad.” You felt him pry your hands away from the mess, tugging your body closer to his. “I’m not mad, I promise.”

You nodded, face pressed into his chest as he hugged you, rocking you back and forth. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize” he kisses the top of your head. “I understand.”

He pried you from the floor and to the bathroom, running your cut hands under the water carefully. You watch him wrap bandages around your fingers and palm.

You sniffled, grateful that he understood why it was so much more than spilled milk to you.

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silv3rswirls · 1 year

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As you walk through the city at dusk, you find yourself staring into windows and envying silhouettes of couples, their frames outlined in golden light; their eyes and words exchange loving warmth towards one another. Your shoulders drop, demeanor slouching a bit as you watch their quiet exchanges, wishing you could be in their place with someone. You look back to where you’re walking, an autumn breeze shaking your clothing and leaving a nip at your nose. You watch the sidewalk for a moment, dazing slightly as you paint pictures of a man you haven’t met, a peaceful picture of them sitting across from you at one of those cozy little restaurants. Painting silly little pictures in your mind with colors you hadn’t touched in a long time; if truly ever.

Longing had a habit of creeping into your bones around this time of evening. A feeling you denied through your typical day, but found hard to resist when the hour of doting couples and perfect dates ticked around.

The gallery was sparse, per usual this time of day. You shuffled in quietly, careful not to disturb those who were present to view the art. You came here often, daily almost if your schedule allowed it. Your cheeks stung as you accustomed to the heat and you spent a few moments wandering around the painting and sculptures, eventually finding your feet taking you back to the object of your thoughts lately. A big painting, simple and abstract with just about every shade and feel of brown, earthy colors you could imagine. It was boring, you heard some of your friends say, it’s just brown, what could be so special?

A lot could, you’d tell yourself. Your head tilted ever slightly as you stared at it. Something comforting about the large display. You did just that, standing before it with eyes fixed on it, thoughts slowing down as you stared.

So caught up in your fixation, you hadn’t noticed there had been another admiring it. You turn to him, looking away for just a moment, “Hello.”

You smile, and he smiles back.

“Hello.”

You share a moment of silence, “you like it?”

He hums a yes, “something about it.”

“It’s just relaxing?”

“Yeah” he smiles and you’re glad to have found someone to share your feelings with. Not many people could.

You don’t share many words after, but instead share each other's presence, only adding to the odd mix of comfort and curiosity you felt viewing this piece.

Your nose scrunches with a sudden tinge of nostalgia burning in your chest as you think of him.

When you look back at him, it seems that he shares a familiar feeling.

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silv3rswirls · 2 years

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Please, Lie To Me

Note: I’ve been on this blog for a whole year today! Honestly, I had no idea what do do for this, so I decided to re-write the very first imagine I posted here.

Summary: You wished he was lying to you, but you know its time to stop pretending this is a perfect, novel ending.

Warnings: Breakups, falling out of love

When do people know when they’ve fallen out of love?

Carefully you set your book aside, the worn novel propped against your thigh as your shoulders drown and lips tug downward. The recent pages of your book had asked that question, when was it time to accept a fleeting relationship and part ways. Granted, you knew the answer the novel would give as this was probably your billionth time rereading it. You knew, in the end, the petty problems would be solved and the main characters would meet again, a flame would rekindle and they would spend the rest of their lives together.

Still, you were always left to ponder the scary idea of falling out of love with someone. To part ways for the good of one another, to cut ties and go on without the person they thought would be there forever. Do you just know, or is it something to learn? Accept? You had no idea, but with how things were shifting in your life you could feel the anxiety over it pooling in your stomach.

You had first met Namjoon while in your early years of university. A small, old second-hand bookshop was just a few minutes' walk away from campus, so you found yourself there studying or reading in your free time. It was usually pretty empty, so when other patrons were found wandering around you took subtle notice. You had found Namjoon between the cramped bookshelves, awkwardly trying to avoid each other while browsing and eventually making light conversation. When you expressed your struggle to pick your next read, Namjoon thumbed out a thick, blank-covered novel and recommended it.

You took it, said goodbye, and ended up finishing the novel within the week. It had been a tad boring and predictable at times but enjoyed the cute stranger's recommendation nonetheless. Every time you returned to the bookstore you hoped to catch him again. He seemed so interesting, so kind from the conversations you shared that day. You wanted to tell him your thoughts on the book, see if he thought the same, but it appeared as if fate had other plans.

Until about six months later when you returned, having stopped hoping for the stranger by now. You just needed a book for school and found it cheaper here than on campus. Then you spotted him, between large bookcases and reading nooks he was there browsing. You doubted he’d remember you, but you took the chance and after some explanation, he did. So, the two of you talked for what felt like forever, because to you time didn’t exist in that tiny bookstore. Namjoon and you got closer and after almost a year of friendship he asked you out. The rest was history.

But now, after two long years together things had begun to feel off.

Hence why you were alone in the living room, curled on the sofa and struggling to reread the novel Namjoon had picked out for you once upon a time ago. After all these years you still found it a tad boring, but you loved the novel that had started this whole thing with Namjoon. It was so worn by now and Namjoon had insisted on buying you a new copy but you couldn’t part with the original copy. It was special in a way.

Normally you could speed through the novel, but today as you waited for Namjoon to come home your nerves kept you restless. He had texted you earlier that he wanted to sit down and talk about your relationship and you had no choice but to do it. For as long as you pushed all the problems away and ignored that your relationship was any less than perfect, Namjoon made it clear this time that things weren’t okay anymore. You knew they were, you just didn’t want to face the harsh reality; instead, you wanted to reread that novel and marvel at the happy ending.

But life isn’t a novel, and your relationship wasn’t written to be perfect.

You had expected it. Things had been off for weeks now, maybe even months but you lost track of how many things you ignored. You hadn’t spent much time together lately, you couldn’t even remember the last date you went on together. When you did go out it was always with friends and you could see the interest and light in Namjoon’s eyes when he interacted with everyone, only for it to drain away when his eyes settled on you when it was time to go home together. He just seemed so much happier to be with the boys or your mutual friends, there was no spark between the two of you. No matter how many times you excused it to stress from work or school, you couldn’t deny that the two of you just never clicked anymore. You would go home together, but not together. Barely speaking a word and going through your separate night routines as things grew worse. When he held you on those kinds of nights there wasn’t any adoration in his eyes, his arms wrapped lax around your, almost bored. Maybe you should have addressed it then, but you couldn’t bear the thought of things breaking. Because you still loved him so much, even if it seemed like his affections were lacking.

You heard Namjoon unlock the door and close it. The rustle of his coat being hung and his shoes slipping off. He moved slowly and when he said hello his tone wasn’t happy or fond like it used to be. This was no cute rambling after a long day of work. He found you in the living room, sitting in dim stillness with the pitter-patter of rain keeping you company. He walked in, he had brought you food, but you weren’t hungry. In fact, your stomach almost hurts at the tense silence in the room.

“Hey” Namjoon spoke, tone drawn out and tired. “I’m sure you’ve noticed by now, we should talk about this.”

“I know” you murmured, suddenly feeling tired yourself. “Just say it, I already know.”

“I’m sorry” he sighs, “I don’t know how it happened or when, but suddenly things just stopped being good.”

You had no idea how things could start to fade so easily. From dates that took your breath away to quiet glances and cold shoulders. Your first date together had been like a dream-like you were the princess in a fairy tale, but now it appeared that Namjoon had no princess and you had an unwilling prince. “We’ve grown apart.” You add, shyly as if saying anything right now would make him leave.

“I’ve been distant and I can’t…” He searches for his words carefully, “I can’t be the boyfriend you need any more, I just think it's time we part ways.”

You close your eyes, nodding as you feel the hot wave of tears flush your face. “I know.”

You don’t talk much after that. You leave the food untouched and go to the bedroom. You’ve already called a friend to stay with, you just need to pack a bag. You’d come for the rest of your things another day, hopefully, while Namjoon was gone. You retreat to the bedroom before you can cry in front of him. He seems so calm, so understanding over the situation. You wished you could feel the same. You wished you could be content with how things were ending, but you couldn’t. You loved him. You shared so much of your life over the past few years with him. It wasn’t as easy as he made it seem.

You ignore him in the doorway, chewing the inside of your cheeks as you try to keep a straight face.

But you can’t help but to look over to him and the tears start to fall. You bite your lip as they rush down your face and Namjoon is at your side the moment they fall. You’re pulled into his chest as he rubs up and down your back, telling you that it was okay to cry. You look up to him, tears still slick down your cheeks. He’s smiling at you and for a moment you think that maybe he’s crying too. “What did I do wrong?” You ask, voice uneven as you stop caring about sounding pitiful.

“No, no” he murmurs, “you didn’t do any wrong” he soothes, his voice faltering a bit towards the end. “You did everything right- everything you could, but I...I’m sorry.”

He didn’t regret it, not a moment throughout your relationship. He loved you for so long, he still does, but he knows that he’s just not in love with you anymore. He doesn't want to let you go, he wants to be selfish and keep you at this side, but he knows it's unfair. He was right to break things off now before things got too far and he hurt you more than he had already. Because, as hard as it was to admit, he had fallen out of love. Your days together stopped being something he looked forward to, you became another motion in his life to go through. Draining his free time, nagging in the back of his head, and stealing his focus away from his life. He never wanted it to, he hadn’t even noticed himself drifting away until Yoongi mentioned it, sat him down, and asked what had been wrong with him lately. That when he realized it all, but you still seemed so happy with him, he couldn't just break it off there. So he tried, he tried so hard to fall in love with you again, but fate said otherwise.

He knows you may not want to see him after this. He doesn't like the thought, but he knows he should accept it. Because he’ll do whatever is best for you in this situation. He’ll never forget the good times, the shoulder you gave him to cry on, taking care of him and encouraging him with work wasn’t going as planned. He’d never forget that.

“Namjoon?” You asked, tears beginning to subside. “Tonight, just one more night, can we just…”

You’re unable to finish, but he understands. You spend the night together. Quiet and in each other’s arms. He holds you like he never wants to let go and you do the same. He whispers “I love you,” and you know it's a lie, he’s trying to make things better for you, but you don’t care. You drink up your final moments in his arms, taking in his false moments of adoration before falling asleep.

You wake up before him and slip out of bed, his arms had left you long ago and he faced the wall away from you. You wished last night had been a bad dream, but you knew it wasn’t. You get dressed and finish packing your bag quietly. When you come to the living room you find the novel. You stare at it for a long time before finding a pen and opening it up. On the back of its cover, you carefully weave a note for him. You tell him you love him, you always will, and that things will be okay. You reminisce about the bookshop you met, tell him that you loved the novel even if it was a bit boring.

You return to the room and lay the novel on the pillow beside him and take one last glance at him. Peaceful in his sleep, a picture you’d miss waking up to. You kiss his cheek and tell him that you’ll be fine and that everything will be okay.

But, it's a lie.

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silv3rswirls · 2 years

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Warings: Mentions of loss of childhood and poor mental health, but nothing specific.

[7:28 PM]

Sometimes Namjoon felt guilty.

Sometimes he felt like he treated you too fragile; thought that maybe his closeness with you was for shellfish reasons. Not because he wanted you to be happy and live every moment while with him without worry. Even when he wasn’t around he kept you in mind.

Sometimes he felt like it came across as odd the way he treated you.

Sometimes others pointed it out, this time it had been Jungkook. It wasn’t hateful or anything, just pure wonder. Why did he treat you the way he did?

Namjoon, for as many times he was faced with this question, never knew how to answer. He was always lost with his words, it was no one’s business yet he wanted everyone to understand; to care the way he did.

It was hard to explain, the overwhelming need and want to give you such a pure, intense love that you would never forget. Even if the friendship faded, or you moved on to new people and things, even when your time is long finished in this life; he wanted you to remember every moment. Every name he called you whether it is endearing or cheesy. Namjoon thought, maybe it was the physical touch that threw people off? The dozing off on his shoulder when needed, poking at the other for fun, absentmindedly cradling your hand in his. All the hugs, the ones that seemed to last forever. The warmest ones that made you feel safe or calmed you down.

Or the way he watched over you. Daily texts asking if you’ve eaten or had enough water. When he found you locked up in your room, your blankets twisted and crumbled from days to weeks spent just laying there. The gentle nudges he gave you, the baby steps you took together at times like that. The sensation of trying to comb your knotted hair, as much as it made him recoil, he did it with care. He cooked for you a lot, extra portions for you in mind became his normal; a normal that he enjoyed.

Maybe how you came to him for everything. Advice and care, to vent. Sometimes you felt so bad how much you vented to him, how deep or real things could get with the blink of an eye. But he never minded. He listened without judgment. Your past walked alongside his; just as important to him. Your worries became his, he shared your anger if not holding more. Complications and messes never scared him and sometimes that’s what you were but loved tentatively cleaning up after you.

It’s never weighed on him, and he’s not sure why, but he loves it. Taking care of you: he loves it.

Sometimes he felt weird saying he wanted to protect you. Sometimes he felt like other people gave him odd looks and stares, silently judging why Namjoon of all people should protect a grown adult like yourself. He had no shame in saying he wanted to help you grow up, but it felt like others held it for him. No, there was no shame in it; Namjoon could never think of it. Others didn’t know what you’ve lived through. Most couldn’t fathom that childhood could be a luxury. Sometimes you needed it, extra care or time while everything felt like it was blurring past you so fast. Sometimes you needed to be still, to not worry or stress; Namjoon could understand that feeling well.

It never felt odd to cradle you. One day it just came naturally. To protect you yet push you gently in the right directions. Encouraging you to follow your dreams and passions as he does, even if he’s forced to watch from afar. It was bittersweet. He wanted to be with you every moment, every accomplishment, even for the smallest of wins. But he knew he couldn’t, it’s impractical, but isn’t the goal of loving someone this way to eventually let them walk on their own? When you do, even if it’s momentarily, he feels such a swell of joy. It’s special, it’s everything he wants for you.

But still, guilt set in. Sometimes Namjoon thought he only wanted you so that he could fix you. It’s not true- he knows it’s not, but sometimes he second-guesses himself. He can’t help it. Sometimes others got to him and sometimes they made him feel weird about it.

But at times when you cried and tried to understand why your apartment had become a toy box of missed moments or felt too lifeless to receive his care; Namjoon knew what you had together was special.

And yes, it was odd at times when he wondered why he wanted so strongly to give you the care you never received from your home, or your parents, or whoever that hurt you. He didn’t need it back, he didn’t need you to do the same; he never did. That's special, he thinks. For life to bring two people so opposite yet beneficial to the other together.

Sometimes Namjoon feels guilty, but it never lasts.

Your relationship was special. It was pure, it was warm.

It was healing.

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