Work Header

Short stories

Chapter Text

Darkness surrounded us both. My eyes were still adjusting to the lack of light rendering me blind. The piercing smell of alcohol entered my nose and I felt something cold touch my hand.

"Drink?" Namjoon asked.

"What is it" I took the glass with a firm grip and held it under my nose. It released a woody scent I recognised, I wrecked my brain but could't place it.

"Don't you recognise it?" 

"Vaguely" my eyes had slowly been adjusting to the dark and I could now make out namjoon's features. His back was turned towards me and he was busy at the counter pouring, I assumed, another glass.

"It's the whiskey you gave me" Namjoon said. 

Things were so different back then, so much simpler. Caught up in my own memory I didn't realise a tear escaped my eyes. "Right, I remember now". 

Namjoon took a step closer making it very difficult to not inhale his familiar scent, leather bound books and sawdust. Desperate to consume all of that wonderful goodness, I took a step forward. We were now a few centimeters apart. 

Namjoon cleared his throat "I'll light a candle".

As soon as namjoon left my personal bubble I snapped out of my daze and took a seat on his brown leather couch. We have so many memories on this couch. I touched the smooth leather and squeezed it slightly.

The room lit up in a burst of orange light. Namjoon found a candle and put it on the coffee table. He grabbed his glass from the kitchen and walked toward the couch as well. When he sat down the seat dipped slightly. The smooth leather acted as a slide and I involuntarily slid towards him. My fingers bumped into something bumpy and clammy. I pulled my hand away and so did he. 

Namjoon turned his head towards me, his eyes barely distinguishable "How do you feel?".

How do I feel? that's a good question I thought how do I feel? "I don't" I said "I don't really know" It was true, I felt empty most of the time and when I did feel something it was, well I didn't know what it was.

"I miss you, Tae" namjoon said.

My cheeks heat up and my eyes began to sting "No you don't" I said. A heavy silence settled over us.

He didn't respond. I snapped "Fuck you" I said, my voice a little louder now. "You don't get to say that! You're an asshole and I hate you!" No I didn't.

I sprinted out of there. Because the scent of sawdust and leather binding now smelled like a rotten karkas in a bug infested casket. Maybe love had turned to hate.