Joining BTS as a woman has been difficult since the start, having to deal with all the hate, the "pick me" accusations that became easier with time, thanks to your biggest supporter in the group; Kim Namjoon, worldwide known as RM.

Of course the rest of the members are always there, J-Hope ready to make you laugh or Jin spoiling the members like they're his own children, but something about Namjoon has always drawn you in. Maybe it's the tranquility he represents both in his tastes and his music, or the fact that you often hang out in libraries and cafes, sharing quiet moments away from the spotlight.

The bell above the door chimes softly as you step into the bookstore. It smells of old pages, cedarwood, and rain, like stories waiting to be remembered. You wander through the aisles, fingers grazing spines, until one title stills your hand: "The Art of Loving" by Erich Fromm.

Just as you reach for it, another hand brushes against yours. "Oh, sorry, I didn't know you were coming today as well." comes a low, warm voice. Deep, like the bassline of a favorite song.

You look up. He's standing there in a gray sweater too soft for this world, wire-rimmed glasses slipping slightly down his nose. Namjoon.

"I've been looking for that one," he says, half-apologetic, half-curious. "Seems like we're drawn to the same questions." He laughs, low and breathy. "Would you... want to get some coffee? In the little place next door we always go to. We could read the first chapter together."

At the café, he reads aloud in hushed tones, voice lingering on every sentence like each word matters. And somehow, next to him, it does. You talk about love like philosophers who have lived a hundred lives. About how it isn't possession, but presence. Not taking, but choosing.

After a quiet moment, as soft jazz hums in the background, he looks at you with something tender in his eyes. "You know, I've always thought you felt like a verse I haven't written yet," he says, "but I already know the rhythm of you."