— sun-bleached record features ; an rm : indigo playlist
🎼 tracklist: someone - kim sawol // brb - epik high // woo - erykah badu // enough - colde // plastic plants - mahalia // as you wish - paul blanco // fade away - park ji yoon // higher - youjeen // winners circle - anderson .paak ++ more.
🎧 moods: records playing, breeze through an open window, sunlight on a sidewalk, book on your chest.
🪑 note: just quick samplings of each artist featured on rm’s indigo, tracklist #10 blues + a few of joon’s solo tracks. enjoy until indigo’s release<3 can be played in order or at random.
📷 src: one
“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.