🐈🐈🐈

"Namjoon, you said your name was? Why don't you stay for dinner?"

The outgoing and friendly nature of Y/n's father surprised me. I had expected him to be at least somewhat similar to his daughter in terms of personality but as I see it, the difference between them is like night and day. Gray eyes, short in height. Hair clipped short, an oval shape face with a slightly rounded jaw, they couldn't immediately be recognized as family. Although over time I was able to catch hints of her in certain expressions he would make.

He chattered happily as he proceeded to prepare dinner, offering embarrassing stories about Y/n from her middle school days, such as the time when she went throughout the entire day with her skirt on inside out and didn't notice until she was home.

"Dad, I swear-" she snarled as she came through the door to halt him mid-story. This one had been about when she'd asked a teacher what being in the mile high club meant. During class.

"Good, you're here." Mr Lee responds flippantly, as if he doesn't notice the murderous look Y/n is directing towards him. "Help your friend with cutting those onions, he seems confused but refuses to not help."

I blush as Y/n approaches obediently and eyes the thorough mess I've created. My heart rate increases tremendously and sparks shoot across my skin when she carefully takes the knife out of my hand and our fingers brush. I watch in amazement as she quickly and skillfully dices the onion in a matter of seconds.

"Done." she moves to leave much sooner than I would have liked and approaches her father with the cut vegetables.

"Thank you," he sings happily and I'm struck again by how different they are. "Now be a dear and hang the curtains back up. See if Ronald can help and that way you won't need to use a ladder."

She shuffles out of the room with a grumble so low that I'm certain her father can't hear but I manage to pick up a, "stupid Ronald."

I'm not sure why Ronald is categorized as 'stupid'. He appeared well spoken and adequately intelligent to me. Brown curly hair, Freddie Mercury-esque mustache, lean and lanky frame. Not that I'm one to talk, but he gave off of the impression of 'nerd' as opposed to stupid.

Mister Lee is sitting down in front of me at the kitchen table the moment she's gone with a smile and more vegetables that needed to be cut. I'm a bit nervous at the size of the knife he holds, but am rendered amazed again with how easily he moves and slices the food in front of him, more adept than Y/n had been a moment before.

"So, you like my daughter?" he chirps sweetly.

A friendly smile graces his face and his warm smell is similar to Y/n's, apart from the feline part of hers, but his own unique scent has more of a sweet tint to it. I feel comfortable and at ease in his company, probably more at ease than I feel in Y/n's but that's for obvious reasons. Not wanting to seem insincere I nod with a low, "yes, sir."

He hums in response, his focus on the task in front of him.

"I work as a chef, in a restaurant downtown. I'm sure you've heard of it, but that's aside from the point." his tone of voice is even and his demeanor hasn't changed one iota, but for some reason I suddenly feel on edge. "See this knife?" he smiles, the same welcoming and friendly smile he's been gracing me with since he arrived but now it sends a chill down my spine that I can't explain.

"Yes, sir." I respond anxiously.

"I'm good with knives." As if to prove the point he tosses a mushroom into the air and flicks his wrist, his eyes remain locked on mine. When the vegetable lands it's cut into three perfectly even slices. I gulp. "I also really love my daughter." he smiles again, but this time it's so wide that it nearly closes his gray, slanted eyes. "I just wanted you to know."

"Yes, sir." I reply firmly. "I understand."

There's a second of silence where he studies me for a moment before his expression slides back into a comfortable one and he nods. "Good. Can you go help her with the curtains now? I don't think she asked Ronald for help."

A moment later I'm standing in the living room, feeling more anxious than I ever have as I find Y/n standing precariously on a wobbling stool next to the window, wrestling the over-sized curtains in her arms.

DANGER DANGER DANGER my wolf is howling at me to save our mate and I'm rushing across the room before I can blink. Easily I wrap my arms around her legs and scoop her up, ignoring her yelp of surprise, the curtains falling as her hands come down on my shoulders.

"What are you-" she begins but is already set down safely on the floor by the time the question comes out. Her eyes are wide and blinking, mouth open in curiosity as she stares at me in question but I grab hold of the curtains swiftly, scared she'll get back on the stool again.

"I will do it." I state confidently. Confident that there's no way I'll let her put herself in danger again. I have no idea how to hang curtains though and my confused look at the fabric in my hands gives my thoughts away.

"What are you, a control freak or something?" she snaps, sounding irritated. As usual. "Give me the curtains." One of her hands holds out expectantly but I turn away.

"No." I reply firmly.

Why does she even look pretty when her eyes are rolling? "Fine." she shrugs and starts to leave. "Do it yourself."

"Y/nbear, are those curtains up yet?" Mister Lee's voice echoes cheerfully through the house.

"Namjoon is doing it, dad." I frown at the way she spits my name.

"Lee Y/n, that is no way to treat a guest, help him out."

Y/n's eyes close momentarily as she lets out an irritated breath. When they snap back open she's glaring right at me and I fight not to flinch at the look I'm receiving. She's a human; it's absurd that I should feel intimidated in her presence. But even my wolf seems to whimper at that look. There's no such thing as an alpha human, right?

"Fine." she grits out through clenched teeth. "Lets do it together." In two strides she's standing closer to me than she's ever been, her concentration on arranging the bunched fabric in my arms onto the metal curtain rod.

But my eyes never leave her. Whether she knows it and is ignoring it, or is unaware, I'm not sure. Either way I take the opportunity to look at her closer greedily, noting every inch and line, every hair and movement. The crease in her eyelid. The flutter of her eyelashes as they blink. The bridge of her nose. The scrunched space between her eyebrows as she concentrates on the task in front of her. The slight plumpness to her bottom lip and the pink tongue that darts out to wet it in frustration. The scent of her filling my nostrils that puts me at ease and riles me up simultaneously. My eyes travel to her tiny, unpierced ear and then to the skin of her neck just below that. My eyes zero in on this spot specifically, my mouth starting to salivate.

"Why are you staring?" her voice cuts into my reverie before I can do something stupid, thankfully. I trail my gaze from that enticing spot to her eyes unwillingly.

"Sorry," I answer in a low voice that I barely recognize. "You're really beautiful." she blushes prettily and blinks a few times before glaring, as if I'd insulted her. "It's distracting." I offer the excuse honestly.

"Well—you-just-" she stutters a few times before stepping back, a hand covering both eyes and part of her red cheeks. "Shut the hell up! The curtains are fixed so you can hang them now." and with that, turned and fled.

I smile as I watch her retreating back scurry away.

Why is she even cute when she curses at me?

🐈🐈🐈

Embarrassed, I sprint up the stairs to my room, cursing everyone in my life. First Eun-ji for inviting Namjoon here in the first place. In-guk for breaking up with Eun-ji because if he hadn't, she never would have invited Namjoon here to make him jealous. Dad for insisting I help hang those stupid curtains, stupid Ronald for being literally no where. Where the hell had he even gone? And lastly Namjoon for being so sweet and perfect and weird.

No.

Maybe sweet. Definitely weird. But not perfect. Carefully I take a torch to those feelings and let them BURN because I refuse to fall down that same hole again. Not that I like him back, but if this spark grows into a fire and I give in and accept his confession, it'll all end up the same way as before. Once Namjoon finds out about me, he'll want nothing to do with me. There's absolutely no way around it. And I can't do that again.

Truthfully, my heart still aches when I think of him. I hate it. I hate that his rejection still stings. I hate that I miss him. I hate that for once in my life I came out of my shell only to be shoved back inside of it. At this point though I have to admit that I put myself back in it and sealed it tightly from the inside.

But I will not cry. Crying solves nothing. Besides that, I ain't no weak bitch.

Instead, with a fresh determination, I open my closet and rummage inside until I find the ugliest sweatshirt I can and pull it on. It's dookie brown with a picture of Oscar the Grouch and thin from years of use. The smell of disuse and my dusty closet clings to it. Perfect. Next I find my favorite beanie. It's pink and has a picture of a unicorn cat jumping out of a rainbow. Carefully I stuff every bit of my hair underneath until my head is one pink, lumpy mess.

Yeah, I have no idea what I'm doing.

Lastly I pull out a bottle of body spray Eun-ji had left here months ago and sprayed an obnoxious amount all over my body. That being the entire bottle.

There's a knock at the door as I study myself in the mirror, torn between satisfaction and a 'what the fuck am I doing?' feeling. "Come in," I call over my shoulder as I continue to stare at my reflection. Is this too much?

The door creaks open to reveal Namjoon, who opens his mouth to speak before he halts, his nose wrinkling and eyes starting to water.

Nope, this is just the right amount.

"Wow," he breathes, his voice strangled, eyes blinking rapidly. "That's a lot-" he freezes when he finally spots me. Our eyes meet in the mirror's reflection and I fight not to laugh. This is not funny. It's serious! SERIOUS.

"How do I look?" I ask innocently, trying furiously to keep a straight face.

He blinks and I almost lose my composure when I notice that through the evening's sun rays shining into the room I can see the mist from the body spray still swirling in the air. Somehow I hold myself together but it's the hardest thing I've ever had to do.

"You..." his eyes roam over the hideous hoodie, lingering on the green character for a moment before trailing up to my hat, the corner of his lips twitching. Yeah, that's right. Tell me I'm hideous!

"You look gorgeous."

This mother fucker.

"Your smell, however..."

I finally lose it and snort loudly. Slapping a hand to my mouth I try to contain the giggles from the absurdity of this situation. Seriously, what am I doing with my life right now? Quickly I regain my composure and slip the beanie off of my head with one hand while I straighten my hair with the other.

"I wanted to apologize if I made you uncomfortable." The corner of Namjoon's mouth is twitching and the look of fondness in his expression confuses and irritates me. I keep my eyes trained on my reflection, refusing to acknowledge it. "I meant what I said." he continues. "But the last thing I want to do is upset you, so..."

Why does he care? As curious as I am, I don't think I should know. Instead I nod in acknowledgment and adopt my customary cold and uncaring visage. Better switch on bitch mode before I catch feelings.

Dad's voice forces the conversation to an end. "Y/nbear, Namjoon, dinner is served!"

Once Namjoon leaves the room I change out of the hideous top and promptly throw it in the trash. Why do I even have that? Quickly I slip on a normal plain black t shirt that doesn't reek of this horrendous spray (pretty sure I'm never gonna get the smell out of my room now) and head down to the dining room.

Unlike everyone else's plate that contains some sort of fancy chicken mixture my chef father has cooked up, mine consists of fish and more fish. I'm a picky eater and lucky enough to have a father that obliges me...also I like to share with my cats.

Yes, I know I'm ridiculous.

Just like every night my fur babies should be strolling in to take their positions around my chair, all looking with the most adorable pleading faces. But no. We can't tonight. Stupid Ronald has planted his ratchet ass here instead. With derision I stab into my salmon with my chopsticks and send a glare in Ronald's direction.

"Honey, this is SO good!" He exclaims once he tries to dish in front of him.

"Thank you, baby." Dad answers back and I feel myself starting to gag.

Have I mentioned that Ronald is stupid?

"It is really good, sir." Namjoon pipes in.

I cough, a fist over my mouth. "COUGHsuck upCOUGH."

Namoon shoots me a look but the corner of his mouth is turned upward.

"Y/nbear, how was your school day?"

"Fine. How was work?"

Dad sighs and the hand holding onto his wine glass moves, causing the red liquid inside to swirl around. "Stressful, with the new management but we're all still adjusting so it can't be helped. By the way, Y/n, how would you feel being alone for a week? Next week is Ronald and I's six month anniversary and we were thinking of taking a trip. If you think you'd be uncomfortable then we won't go. Just something to think about, ok?"

I chewed my food and nodded, unsure of how I felt about it. I've never had the house to myself before, not overnight. Some nights dad would get home so late from work and leave again so early in the morning that it seemed like I was living alone, but that had never been a reality. But I do enjoy being alone, so it might not be so bad. It's not like an ax murderer would break into the house on the one week when dad wasn't home...right? Oh shit, who am I kidding? That sounds unlucky enough to happen to me.

My eye is caught by Namjoon, who is staring off into space and frowning. Ignoring him I go back to my dinner, now with the nagging feeling that something will definitely happen to me if left alone.

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Edited 7/20/21