On Thin Air

Nonchalant Things

"C...can we just eat?" she stuttered. Hastily pulling a chair out she slunk down. Fluttering eyes that refused to look in his direction settled on the table. Then realizing she slid off the oven mitts and handed them back to the maid, who smiled. Nodding a farewell she silently treaded back into the kitchen leaving them alone.

Discreetly clearing his throat to ward off the awkward atmosphere he sank down into the chair. Neither of them moved. Sitting like two strangers forced into a blind date. Trapped in a frozen time warp the only movement stirred from the steaming pot of soup.

Picking up his spoon he tasted the soup. Complimenting, "It's good."

Ignoring him, Namjoo began filling her plate up. Awkwardness slapped them again when their spoons clashed as they reached into the bowl of soup. They momentarily paused. Agitated, Namjoo scooped up her fair share hurriedly.

After dinner Namjoo disappeared. To her room probably. Heading outside to his car he pulled out the projector he'd bought. Pulling a chair onto the third floor he set himself to work. Skimming through the manual as he unpacked the contents of the box. Sighing, scratching his head as he figured out the tools and attachment process.

A good two hours went by. Much of which he contemplated calling someone to do the work for him. His father didn't raise him to use his hands but his head. Putting an airplane model together was not his thing having been taught to sit behind the desk. For some uncanny reason he had to do this.

The projector finally lit up filling the wall with color. Clapping his hands together he let out a yelp. He'd succeeded something so trivial for the first time on his own. Stupid, but he felt proud. Grinning happily he looked around finally taking note of how dark it was outside. On this side of the house he could see the full moon blossoming in the darkness.

Shoving everything into the corner he turned the lights off and headed downstairs.

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Namjoo couldn't stand this. Feeling so weird and disturbed. Sitting on the bed with a pillow propped at her back she chewed her thumb nail. Ashamed about the effort she'd put in earlier. It hadn't been necessary at all.

What had she been thinking? Had she been on drugs?

Namjoo shook her head.

She couldn't stop wallowing in embarrassment. She shouldn't have lifted her hands but then she couldn't just sit around and do nothing! The conflicting thoughts made her so appalling!

Touching her phone she stared at the time. It was getting later but she couldn't shut her mind up and sleep. Something was wrong with her. Would the doctor be able to diagnose her new illness?

Sliding forward she pulled her pillow down. Plopping onto the bed she stared up at the ceiling. Blinking. It was so silent she could feel her mind starting to scream. Then her eyes traveled to the side when she heard footsteps. Slightly lifting her head up she stared at the door wondering who it was? The footsteps faded down the hall surprising her that Sehun had been up so late. What was with him?

She frowned. Dismissing all inquiring thoughts she flipped her back to the door and closed her eyes.

At the table the next morning Namjoo patiently waited for breakfast to be served. Debating if she should continue helping since she had yesterday. When Auntie Park brought over the fresh side dishes she met her eyes with a smile. As if they'd made a pact of some sort Namjoo returned the tiny smile.

Forget it she decided. She'd already become a freaking housewife. Here was her home. She would do as she liked. She had to do something, or she'd die of boredom.