On Thin Air

The Devils

"Sehun," his father called out surprised. His eyes fluttered, running over him, down then back up. "I thought you were sick. You should be in bed."

He stiffened. "Uh...well...I did rest, but I feel better now."

Namjoo's father eyed him, unbelieving.

"Well...come in." Sehun stepped out of the way. Watching as they passed him.

His father sniffed the air. "It looks like you're having dinner."

"Yes." He closed the door. Led them down the hallway toward the dining room. Saying the expected, "Come eat with us."

Namjoo's father immediately halted in the doorway when he spotted Namjoo in her apron. Helping the kitchen lady. Sehun gulped. His lids fluttered, nervous. Sensing them she stopped what she was doing by the counter. Lifting her head up and turned his way. Sehun couldn't help but lower his eyes.

She said nothing. He looked again at her to see not a welcoming smile on her face. Also aware of what kind of situation she was in. Fooling around in the kitchen with the housekeepers. Lending her worthy hand where it shouldn't be.

Spinning around she reached up into the cupboard for an extra set of plates. Calmly walking over to set them down next to her plate, next to his plate.

"Sit down," she invited.

"What do you think you're doing?" her father gruffly interrogated. Staring hard at her apron, wishing to set it on fire perhaps. His eyes seemingly disapproved before turning to look at him for an answer. "What is she doing?"

Next to the man his father offered no defense.

"I think you forgot that this is my house," Namjoo said. "Would you quickly decide if you'd like to stay to have dinner with your daughter? I'd like to put the plate back. It saves the water I need to use to wash it."

"Father, please sit," Sehun cut in, pulling the chair out for him. His father-in-law stared at him with a burning glare. With a huff he sat down. Sehun glanced at Namjoo to see the frown pulling down on her face. Without offering any greeting toward his father she wheeled back into the kitchen to resume her task.

His father sat down beside her father, making himself comfortable. "Well," he began, "what are you doing standing for?"

With no excuse to give, Sehun rounded the table and sat in front of his father. Leaving the chair next to him empty for Namjoo to face her father.

"I was worried when I heard you turned in sick." His father said. "You need to keep your health up. If you're sick, how can there be a child? Am I right?"

"Yes, father." Sehun obediently replied.

"I let her get married not to become another housekeeper in your home," Namjoo's father scolded. "It is embarrassing for the family. You need to restrain her. You are her husband. It is your sole duty to look after her and make sure she does not act out. What exactly have you been doing as her husband?"

"Now, calm down," his father crooned. "I'm sure there is an excuse. Your daughter has her ways."

"Are you putting the blame on her? It is the man who is head of the household. If your son can't do his job, what did he marry my daughter for?"

"Perhaps you should ask yourself." Namjoo leaned over to set down a steaming plate of food. "Why, father, you had me marry into the Oh family."

His face strained with irritancy. "Silence. I'm not speaking to you."

"The name mother gave me is Namjoo." Namjoo hit back. Staring her father down. "If I am not worthy enough of your endearment like precious Hea, at least I deserve to be called by my name."