#rapmonsterseries

[once-upon-an-ane-blog]

The reason behind my night sky (ft Namjoon of BTS)

☽ Hello everyone, this is my first fanfiction, hope you will enjoy! As requested by @fiveyearsandmilesapart  ♡

Summary: You are trying to find a book to indulge in on your free Saturday night. You have trouble picking a title until a certain someone appears to offer you a hand. 

“I closed my eyes in obedience. I felt a light kiss on my lips where there was always a little fresh blood which never would go away. And then I fell asleep. Next morning someone woke me: I had to have my wounds dressed. When I was finally wide awake I turned quickly to the mattress next to mine. On it lay a stranger I'd never seen before. Dressing the wound hurt. Everything that has happened to me since has hurt. But sometimes when I find the key and climb deep into myself where the images of fate lie aslumber in the dark mirror, I need only bend over that dark mirror to behold my own image, now completely resembling him, my brother, my master.”

The end. 

You calmly closed the book and looked nowhere in particular. Wow. It’s over. You’ve finished reading Hesse’s Demian. You couldn’t believe that the book you’d been reading for a week now has finally run out of content for you to absorb. A feeling of overjoyment struck you like lightning and you just started kicking the air in your bed. That was so fun! People thought it was weird the way you reacted to books, they percieved them as something ordinary and not at all worthy of excitement, but to you, books were means of escape, they were different, extravagant worlds that dwelled inside a universe called The Library,  waiting to be discovered and thoroughly explored. Every book was an experience filled with different palettes of colours, different span of emotions and events. To you, it was an adventure you were always up for. And boi, what an adventure this was! Suddenly, you felt like a balloon that ran out of air. Ah, yes. The book hangover. That was such a good read that you literally sucked in every word as it came and in doing so, you didn’t even notice how fast the pages of the unread section became less and less in ammount. 

You looked at the book carefully wrapped inside your arms.

You needed another dose. 

It was a good thing libraries worked during weekends. The clerks already knew who you were because you frequented in your thirst for written words, so they wouldn’t give it a second thought when you’d start sniffing out books and occasionally sit on the floor giving something a test run. It was a regular thing.

You wandered off to the classical literature department and started your search. You were already acquainted with the russian realists, as well as the work of Shakespeare, Rimbaud, Austen, Fitzgerald etc. You were low key hiding from Jane Eyre that you felt guilty for not finishing and validated your cowardice with sentences along the lines of ,,something keeps getting in the way!”. You stood eye to eye with the literary geniuses of all eras, works of people you admired ever since you’d learnt of them and read their work. However, you found it difficult to find something you hadn’t read. You always believed the best things find their way into one’s life spontaneously. But standing here, in front of so many books, it was hard to predict which one would make the smoothest entrance into your gaze of interest. So you stood, arms wrapped around Demian, as if summoning Hesse’s spirit to guide you to your next literary adventure. You were so enthralled by the books before you that you didn’t see a person standing near you, holding a book themselves. 

-Excuse me, miss- a voice, deep yet gentle, adressed you. You snapped out of your deep thought to be greeted with a pair of deep brown eyes, who seemed as if they held a secret to the universe, with nicely shaped eyebrows lifted in curiosity and desire to assist, and a gentle smile on top of kindly parted soft pink lips. Shit, whadup. 

-You seem as if you need help. I do apologize if my assumption is incorrect, but I would gladly assist should there be something you require.- he spoke in such a tone that confirmed the idea of endless knowledge hidden behind those eyes. You couldn’t force yourself to reply for a good few moments, during which you tried to process the aura of intelligence and sexiness that radiated around this particular man. 

-Sorry, what?- you went full derp. Opposed to your brain mush, his brain remained collected and offered a kind grin, as he simply explained what he had previously said. 

-You seemed to be standing there for quite a while, eyeing Kafka’s Trial. Do you need a hand, since it is a few shelves above your reach?

Speak more, smart noodle. Wait, what? Where did the intellectual within you disappear to? You were too enchanted by his godly appearance that you didn’t register a thing he said, so you figured a nod was an internationally accepted response to anything you didn’t quite understand. He stretched without a problem and grabbed the book, handing it to you as if it was the most natural thing on Earth. He gave you a courteous smile and proceeded with his prior business. It was only then that you realized he gave you a book you weren’t even looking for so you sobered up from that bewitching presence, just enough to inform him that this was not what you had been looking for. 

-Oh?- he raised his eyebrows. He is cool even when he blinks. You forced yourself to start making sense so in the best way you could, you gave an explanation what you were looking for. 

-I actually just finished Demian so I’m not exactly sure what to read next.

-Ah, I see. Any particular genre you fancy?-he casually looked at the book shelf beside you. 

-I don’t restrict myself with that. Although, I do enjoy books that make you think hard, even after you’ve finished reading them.

-Interesting- was all he said. 

He began searching through the titles, his gaze lost between novels separated by years or centuries, seeming lost yet completely capable of navigating his way through the art. A sparkle appeared in his eye when he caught on something, so he extended his hand to reach the book that he found fit for your taste. 

-Here. I think this might do the magic. Kafka on shore, by Haruki Murakami. I hope you are acquainted with Franz Kafka, he was an extraordinary mind.- he said, giving you the book. You thanked the stars for having read Kafka’s work after the nod you gave caused the cutest of amused grins you’d ever laid eyes upon. This smart Literature God or whoever he was, seemed endlessly fascinating in his height, tone of voice, knowledge of books and this breathtaking gaze you couldn’t quite decipher. 

-Thank you so much.- you breathed and earned a soft smile.

-Don’t mention it.

To be continued