Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
☾
Namjoon takes a seat on the bench with a loving dedication engraved into the wood for a deceased, must have been, virtuous woman.
"he's not had the opportunity to moderate his emotions."
he takes out the notebook tucked under his arm and the pen from inside of his coat. he stops his knee from bouncing up and down and sits snugly.
"how do you feel?"
"why are you here today?"
Namjoon's eyes focus on the environment around him. systematic, dread and injustice is all he sees and feels.
"what can i help you with?"
the court hall built in front of him is filled with people. people entering and people leaving with conservative expressions, it's lunch time for most people. Namjoon can feel the intensity and angst of the cases being fought for inside. he can sense the shouts, the hurls of doors, the whispers, the sweat when sitting inside, the slick shoes... everything.
"put him on anti depressants. he doesn't need therapy."
"why are you complaining? it's money for us."
Namjoon opens his notebook, focusing on his mind and he writes until his fingers hurt. by the end of his writing, he's filled several pages and has written a song with no title. still unfinished.
