namjoon’s not a saint. not by any means.
in the human world, he plays as they do. he’s mundane and simple, he’s soft smiles and polite words because the world works easier that way. no one asks questions, no one delves into matters they shouldn’t be. no one gets suspicious– because to the world of humanity, namjoon is dull, he’s boring.
but he’s so, so much more than that.
he’s got a few books on magic tucked in his hands, more for enjoyment rather than necessity. bored eyes take in his surroundings with a hum, tongue swiping over his mouth. this side of town isn’t too nice– in fact, it’s sort of slummy. there’s always one district in the city that has…less than appealing imagery.
but there’s always a diamond in the rough if you look hard enough. namjoon knows that due to experience, endless, tireless bouts of experience. there’s always someone in the crowd that catches his eye, always someone worthy of his attention (his morbid curiosity for ruin is a better phrase, but namjoon cares little for technicalities).
and he finds them. someone lithe and small, a smile so eye-catching, namjoon’s almost mesmerized. there’s a twitch in his fingers, the itch to satiate the need to ruin and defile. his knife is warm, pressed snug in his sleeve and he moves to tug it out from it’s confines, willing to bare his palm open to infection for just a taste of chaos.
a pause. a tingle in his spine. namjoon tenses, jaw tightens as he lowers his arm slowly, eyes narrowed forward. he trails his eyes away from his wanted victim, breath exhaling from his nostrils as he shuts his eyes tiredly. one arm lifts to pinch the bridge of his nose to fend off his irritation. a swallow, and his arms fall to his sides, head turning to glance behind him, looking for someone that’s watching, someone that’s staring.
there’s a familiar face– one that namjoon pauses on, a huff of breath leaving him. his eyebrows raise in question, and slowly, his head cocks to the side. inquiry resides in his gaze as he hums. he takes several steps towards the other, tongue clicking. a slow smile spreads against his face, the slightest bit of teeth peeking out.
“yoongi-ssi.” he greets slowly. his fingers tighten momentarily around his books. “i dare say, this is the last place i would think of running into you.”
yoongi has never been one to get involved. it’s arguably problematic on his part, as he is often part of the silent problem, of those who watch but don’t act. he does it mostly for self-defense truly, his energy levels always on an alarming red level whilst his anxiety seems to be constantly at peak in most situations, leading him to back away and turn his back more often than not.
yoongi, definitely, has never been one to get involved with those who fail to give him a sense of comfort. he steers away from trouble (again, perhaps judging books by their covers, not the most ideal attitude), sticks to those who make him feel safe at all times. the moment a person gives a bad vibe is the moment yoongi loses any interest he might have had in the first place. there is enough trouble that comes with being a hero, with fighting those exhausting monsters off and looking for what’s right, whatever that might be; he is not looking to add to this burden.
yet still he finds his feet following after the familiar tall figure, an odd sense of determination burning in his chest. yes, yoongi stays away, yoongi doesn’t get involved - but there is something about this person, something about this namjoon that just doesn’t fit. he can’t put his finger on it even if his life depended on it for he has no proof to confirm his thoughts, only this uncomfortable, distracting gut feeling that namjoon must be much more than the polite smiles he offers. and that distraction, that frankly annoying need to catch the taller red-handed is exactly what leads yoongi to be following him into a part of town he would otherwise never step foot into.
he just wants a single proof, a single slip to confirm his thoughts and let his mind be at rest. he was sure that if he could find this anywhere at all, it would have to be in an unappealing neighbourhood such as this one, but it seems like the taller catches him beforehand and yoongi straightens his back as their eyes meet. there was no need to attempt to blend in with the shadows anymore. “likewise.” he replies, hands stuffed into his hoodie pocket, piercing stare running down namjoon’s body, searching. nothing seems out of the extraordinary and it irritates yoongi, eye looking right back into the taller’s. “what brings you to these neighbourhoods, if i may ask?”
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